Seminole Bend

by Tom Hansen

  “We need to get everyone back here and sort things out. Obviously, someone put the screw to our plans.” Roy was furious. Twenty years of planning were not going to waste. He had dedicated his life to this project and now it would need some immediate adjustments. But that was all, just some tinkering.

  Roy sat down by the two-way radio and punched in the frequency. The pilot replied, “Harfield One. Go ahead.”

  “This is Jackson. Put Oliver on! Make it quick!” barked Roy.

  A moment later, Oliver entered the cockpit and put on the headset. The boot of Italy could be seen 40,000 feet below. “What’s up, Roy?”

  “Change of plans. Prince Adil’s palace and compound has been blown to smithereens by none other than our Mig-25 Foxbat. Meet me back here at the ranch. The landing strip is clear.”

  The pilot had begun his descent for a planned refueling stop in Athens. Oliver removed the headset and slammed it to the cabin floor. “After we fill it up, make a heading for Seminole Bend. We ain’t going to Al Qadir.”

  The door to the cockpit was open. Sam and Yussef heard Oliver’s orders and shot a perplexing look at each other. Oliver returned to his seat and said nothing. His face was bright red and he was messaging his temples. Oliver’s headache was about to get worse.

  CHAPTER 78

  Sunday, March 14, 1982

  6:30 a.m.

  A gent Jones was reluctant to let Tyrus go back to Daughtry’s control center alone. He still had no clear picture of what was happening, nor did he know what crimes had been committed. Finally, he demanded that Agent Tecka and himself accompany Tyrus or he wouldn’t allow him to leave. Tyrus didn’t have the time or energy to fight it, so he agreed.

  After Jones, Tecka and Tyrus had departed in Jones’ car, chatter erupted in the Nike base. Everyone was in a state of confusion, each asking questions or giving comments at the same time. Everyone, that is, except for Lew Berry. He was holding the photograph taken after the Sebring basketball game and tapping his forefinger at something or someone in the picture.

  Willy, noticed Lew staring at the photo and asked, “What is it, Lew? What are you looking at?”

  “Probably nothing.” Lew paused, then continued. “But I think . . .” Lew paused again and shook his head. Now everyone in the room stopped talking and looked at him.

  “Come on, Lew. What’s up?”

  “I think I know what has been bothering me since I saw this photo. This gal here, one of the fans at the game that is in the background.”

  “What about her?” asked Johnny Murphree. Lew was still holding the picture and no one could see who he was pointing at.

  “I found a Polaroid picture in the drawer of Brett’s end table up in the master bedroom the first time that me and Phil Bennett broke into the house. Well, anyway, when I went back to the house later, it was gone. The room had been ransacked and I’m not sure what was taken, but I found it rather odd that someone would want to steal a picture of my son and his pregnant wife out on the beach somewhere.”

  “So, what does that have to do with the picture you’re looking at?” inquired Willy.

  “Well, this gal here.” Lew tapped the photo once again. “She looks a lot like Sheryl did in that Polaroid print. In fact, now I’m not so sure it was Sheryl in that picture on the beach. I’m thinking it was this girl.”

  “Show us the picture. Who are you talking about?” Lew slid the photo on the table so everyone could get a glimpse, then pointed to a pregnant gal standing next to Bard Smith, the sport’s writer for the Miami Sentinel.

  Otis was the first to speak and he blurted out, “Well, that there is Miss Foss, it sure is! She be a teacher over at the elementary school.”

  “You’re right, Otis,” inserted Willy. “But I believe she hasn’t been teaching for a couple of months. She’s on maternity leave for the rest of the school year.”

  Lew looked bewildered as he glanced up at Willy. “If this Miss Foss is pregnant, that’s probably her in the picture I saw in Brett’s drawer. . . With him. . . On the beach.”

  Lew shook his head. “Can’t be, right? Please, tell me it can’t be.”

  CHAPTER 79

  Sunday, March 14, 1982

  7:00 a.m.

  “T he informant is flying on a civilian jet from Chicago to Palm Beach,” said Jim Brown from a payphone just off the turnpike in Yeehaw Junction. “The plane has been delayed at O’Hare. Snowstorm. Looks like March is still coming in like a lion. I will make the pickup and transport from Palm Beach to Homestead, but will be late. Should be there around four or five in the afternoon. Make sure you erase this message and any other messages from your machine.”

  The call was conveyed aloud over the speaker on Tyrus’ answering machine at the Nike base and everyone in the room heard it except Tyrus, Jones and Tecka, who were waiting for Jim Brown at Daughtry’s summer house, aka control center.

  “We need to let Tyrus and the FBI boys know that whoever this Jim Brown guy is, he will be coming late,” said Willy. “Johnny, you and me need to go tell them.”

  “I think we all need to stay here for now,” replied Agent Brewer. “That was the plan.”

  “If Brown doesn’t show up, they might decide to look for him thinking he’s in danger. Let’s all just go. I think every one of us is too deeply involved at this point to just sit back and wait.

  “I guess you’re right,” stated Brewer. “There’s not much we can do here anyway.”

  With that, they loaded back into their cars and headed for Daughtry’s control center.

  “Otis and me will keep a keen eye on this here prisoner of ours,” boasted Lance proudly as he led the handcuffed guard to Lew’s Trans Am. “Make sure he don’t do no escaping, you know.”

  * * * * *

  Oliver’s jet touched down on the cracked asphalt runway that was built for Jackson’s private use and for an emergency getaway if the need ever arose. The constant heat from the sun and intense humidity had taken its toll through the years and the runway resembled a county road that led to a town dump. The jet bounced twice before the brakes took hold as the passengers gripped the arm rests tightly.

  Oliver strutted down the ramp and over to Roy’s office with a purpose. For the past eight hours he tried to envision how the plan had gone wrong. There must have been a mole, but who? Every moment of that flight from the Athen’s refueling stop had made him angrier, and now he was furious. Sam Dulie and Yussef tried their best, but couldn’t keep up with Oliver’s rapid pace. The young lady who had just given birth less than a day ago was helped down from the steps by the pilot. She was bleeding, but that took a backseat to her declining state of mind. The gal was an emotional wreck. She had no idea that her newborn son was only yards away in Roy’s house and being cared for by his daughter.

  When the pilot finally got her to Roy’s office next to the barn, the rest of the men were sitting around a table, all with concerned looks on their face. Oliver Harfield was standing and pounding his fist, using cuss words rarely heard in the Deep South, or anywhere English was spoken. But that didn’t faze the young lady. She marched right up to Roy and bent down so close that he could see the capillaries about to rupture in her cheeks. The pilot grabbed her arms and attempted to restrain the women who was in the midst of a nervous breakdown.

  “Where’s my baby, you wretched jackass?!” she screamed.

  Roy looked up at her and grinned. “Now what kind of language is that for an elementary school teacher, Miss Foss?” Then Roy looked over at the sheriff and motioned for him to remove the lady. “Al, gag her and lock her in the closet. We’ve got business to discuss. I’ll deal with her later.” Sheriff Bonty did as he was ordered.

  After a few more minutes of ranting and raving, Governor Daughtry interrupted, “Oliver, calm down. We need to sort through this logically.”

  “No one in this room is going to tell me to calm down, especially you Daughtry!” yelled Oliver who was still in a frenzied state. “I made you governor and arranged th
e financing for this plan for the past two decades. Now you all listen to me. We have a mole in this organization. I’ve been thinking about it the entire flight back here. It only makes sense that it must be that Jim Brown guy that Tyrus found. We sent him to Baku to bribe the pilot and rig up the nukes. Who else could it be?”

  “We can find out pretty quick,” replied Roy. “He should be up in Gainesville with my brother Ray right now. Let me give him a call.”

  “If he’s our mole, then what are the chances that Tyrus is in it with him?”

  “Where did we find this Tyrus anyway?” asked Sam Dulie. “What do we know about him?” Sam looked around the table, but no one responded to his question. Sheriff Bonty tipped his head down so he wouldn’t have to look at Sam. He knew, but wasn’t going to say anything.

  Roy was at his two-way radio dialing the Gainesville op center and heard Sam’s question. “I found him. Tyrus. I took him away from his girlfriend and baby the night the boy was born. He was strong and athletic and I was ramping up our security team in Columbia where the radar jammers were being assembled. I had threatened to kill his girlfriend and baby if he ever tried to leave, and I knew he believed that I had the power to do it. He became a dedicated worker, one who I came to trust. So I promoted him to head up the operations in Columbia when the man we had in charge was found dead in his swimming pool. Drowned.”

  Everyone in the room was silent. They were waiting for Roy’s call to go through to his brother, but no one was answering on the other end.

  “He’s supposed to be there,” uttered Roy. “Something’s happened. I need to get up there and find him.”

  “Roy, this Tyrus fella, you said he was a Seminole Bend kid when you kidnapped him, right?” asked Oliver.

  “Right. So what?”

  “What’s his background? What did he do for a living?”

  Sheriff Bonty stood up and walked to the door as if he was going for some fresh air. Roy replied, “Don’t remember what he did exactly, but his brother is Willy Banks, one of Al’s deputies.”

  “You hired the brother of a sheriff’s deputy to head up operations in Columbia?” Oliver’s voice was becoming enraged. “What the hell were you thinking, damn it?!”

  “His brother was in Nam when I grabbed him. I didn’t know Willy would be hired on into the sheriff’s department. But Tyrus was a good worker, someone I trusted. He couldn’t be in on any conspiracy against us. I’m sure of it!”

  “You said the man who was in charge of operations before Tyrus drowned in a pool? Was there an autopsy done? Was it a legit drowning?”

  Roy didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure himself. He wanted to ask Sheriff Bonty why Willy was hired on as a deputy knowing he was Tyrus’ brother, but the sheriff was no longer in the room.

  CHAPTER 80

  Sunday, March 14, 1982

  6:00 p.m.

  A gent Brewer and his crew offered to escort Daughtry’s guard back to FBI headquarters in Miami for further questioning. Agent Jones said that would be fine, but to be ready to come back quickly, if needed.

  At six o’clock, Jones, Tecka, Tyrus, Willy, Johnny, Lew, Otis, Lance and Pancho were sitting around a table in the kitchen eating sardines and crackers they had found in the cupboard. Lance said he was impressed by the gourmet food that the governor stored in his pantry.

  A few minutes later, the front door opened and Jim Brown appeared with the informant he had picked up at Palm Beach International Airport. Lew, Willy and Otis all did double takes, then dropped their half-eaten crackers on the floor. They all stood up and appeared to be shaking and speechless, staring at the two folks who had just entered Daughtry’s house. The informant froze in her tracks, staring back at Lew with her mouth wide open while tears formed in her eyes. Then Lew made a mad dash to the informant, gave her a big kiss and nearly squeezed the life out of her with an enormous hug.

  “Janet, you’re alive!” yelped Lew, barely able to breathe. “I was told you were on the Heartland Lakes flight that crashed this week. Oh my God, you’re here, alive and well!”

  Janet didn’t let the embrace go. She whispered to Lew, “I love you, but I’ve done some bad things. Can we talk?”

  “Bad things?” Lew looked puzzled. “Sure, let’s go somewhere private.”

  But just then, Lew and Janet turned to find Willy and Jim Brown in a massive bear hug, two humongous men with tears flowing down their cheeks.

  Willy took a step back and looked at his boyhood friend Bo Yardly from his head down to his toes. “Bo, you are dead, man. I went to your funeral!”

  “The funeral you attended was for Gaspar Millage, a close friend in the same regiment. Got blown up walking on a land mine twenty feet from me. His mom abandoned him and his little brother when he was five-years-old, and his dad’s now serving life in prison for killing his little brother. He had no one left back in the States to give him a proper burial, so I let him be me. It was closed casket, no one knew.”

  Willy was in shock and so was Otis. But Tyrus just looked at his two brothers sympathetically. He knew why Bo had sacrificed everything, including his family and friends back home in Seminole Bend. Tyrus nodded at Bo, then started rubbing his hands nervously.

  ”Mind if we sit down?” asked Bo. “It’s time you all know the truth and what’s happening.”

  Everyone slid backwards and two more folding chairs were set up around the table in the gaps. Bo and Janet sat down in those chairs and the kitchen became quite crowded. Bo took a deep breath, trying to think where he was going to start with his story.

  “I was assigned to a special task force named Espy. Three of us were asked personally by President Nixon to identify CIA counterspies and eradicate their plans for treason. Nixon caught wind of double agents planning to overthrow American democracy that would place our government in the controlling hands of an unknown foreign leader, but he didn’t have any specifics. Nixon produced letters embossed with the presidential seal that gave Espy permission to act on its own, basically open orders to examine any and every part of every American intelligence agency. We acted covertly and uncovered a dangerous operation being carried out in Florida, in fact, right here where we sit. Following leads, I located Tyrus a few years back in Columbia and brought him into the loop to help us infiltrate the group. Together, we assassinated Roy Jackson’s head of operations over there in order to promote Tyrus to the top spot.”

  “Assassinate?” asked Willy. “That doesn’t sound like you, Bo. How did you do it?”

  “We drowned him in his own swimming pool and made it look like an accident. And you’re right, Willy, it doesn’t sound like me. I felt I had to do it to save our nation from destruction.”

  “You joined this Espy task force on your own? Or were you ordered?”

  “I agreed to it. President Nixon had flown to Saigon and spoke only to the three of us aboard Air Force One. He had no aides or even Secret Service on board at the time. This was his furtive theorem and he wanted complete privacy. Keep in mind, it was CIA miscreant agents we were looking for, thus he trusted no one.”

  “Bo, you gave up an NFL career to join this task force? Man, you’re my hero once again, dude!”

  “What’s an NFL career without a country? You would have done the same thing, Willy. I know you! But there are two other folks sitting in this room who are just as much, or even more so, heroes than me.” Bo grinned and pointed at Tyrus, who gave an appreciative nod in return, then smiled at Janet. Lew looked at his wife, then back to Bo. He was hoping for an explanation.

  “Both of these courageous souls risked everything for the sake of their country. Tyrus hasn’t seen his son or girlfriend since the night Tyrone was born. He had the chance to return after we killed the chief over in Columbia, but he insisted on seeing our plan through to save many, many more lives. And Janet, she kept me posted on Roy’s activities for several years after I located her in Pennsylvania.”

  Lew was perplexed. He turned to his wife and asked nicely, “Is this part of
the ‘bad things’ you wanted to tell me about?” Janet affirmed with a nod.

  “Lew, I haven’t been faithful to you and that was even before I knew anything about this operation.” She paused for a moment as dead silence filled the room and tears sprung from her eyes. “After we were first married and you were on the road selling insurance, I met a man named Roy Jackson, whose name you’ve heard by now, and we had an affair.” Lew frowned and pulled out a hanky from his pocket to wipe his forehead. His eyes glistened with salty fluid.

  “It’s okay, you can tell me later,” said Lew as his voice crackled. He was embarrassed, but doing his best to control his anger. Right now, just having his wife alive and well was the most important thing.

  “No, Lew, I can’t.” Janet paused, but decided to tell him the rest. “Brett is not your son, Lew. He’s Roy Jackson’s son.”

  The room was completely mute. You could have heard a pin drop. Everyone was thinking about the implications of Janet’s last statement, especially Lew.

  “It was a one-night stand. I don’t know why I did it, I just did. I was working at the Greyhound station when he came in on the bus and started sweet-talking me. You were in Harrisburg on business, and well, we had dinner and he spent the night. I found out that he went to work at Marks, Taylor and Smith law firm, and when I knew I was pregnant with Brett, I went to his office to tell him. I knew it had to be his because you were gone quite frequently back then when you first started selling insurance, and the one-night stand fit the time frame. Anyway, he wasn’t in his office so I left him a note telling him I was pregnant.”

  Janet paused for a moment to regain her composure and pulled out a Kleenex to wipe off the tears that had destroyed today’s facial makeup. Black mascara was forming a river from the corners of her eyes down to her chin. Lew was angry and confused, but didn’t say anything. He just waited for his wife to continue.