The Hermetrius Conspiracy

by J. D. German

  He needed to get back on the road and find a place to hole up. He couldn’t go back to his cabin; they would have it staked out for sure. Maybe he could head up to Canada. No, they might have his picture at the border crossings. They probably had people at the airports looking for him too. He needed someplace remote with few people around. . . Lynn! If he could get himself invited to stay at Lynn’s place in the mountains for a few days, he could hide out there and plan his next move. He would call her and set up a lunch meeting, then see where it goes. He pulled up Google maps on his laptop and checked the route to Telluride. If he left now he could get to Grand Junction, Colorado by sundown and spend the night there.

  Jack loaded his stuff into the truck and did his daily sweep of the car for bugs. After he picked up breakfast to go from a drive through, and hit the road. He would be off the major highways, so that would help him stay out of sight. He didn’t want to put Lynn in danger, so he had to make sure no one was following him.

  Chapter 10

  When Jack pulled into Grand Junction the sun was still up – he made better time than he expected, especially since he had to stay below the speed limit to keep from being stopped by a cop. He got a room at the Siesta Motel and stopped by the dining room for an enchilada dinner before heading for his room. He chose this place because he could get a room around back that would keep his truck out of sight . . . and of course because it had block walls between the rooms. He backed the truck up to his room so he could get into it quickly if he needed to. He only took the essentials into the room, but he wanted quick access to his arsenal, just in case.

  It was time to plan tomorrow. He checked the Google map and found that the drive to Telluride takes about 2 hours, so if she wanted to meet him there for lunch he would have to leave by 9 or 10. He chose one of his burner phones and dialed her number.

  She answered “Hello” and he said “Hi”.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t recognize your voice. Who is this?”

  “It’s Jack . . . Preston.”

  “Oh, Jack, hi. I was hoping you’d call”

  “. . . Yep, it’s me. . . I’m staying in Grand Junction. Do you have time to meet for lunch tomorrow?”

  “Sure, I’d love that. Where?”

  “Where is a good place for lunch in Telluride?”

  “If you don’t mind driving a few extra miles why don’t you come up to my place? I could make us something. A salad or sandwich?”

  That’s what he was hoping for. “A salad would be fine. Should I bring some cold beer?”

  “No, I have plenty of that. What time can you make it?”

  “How about if I leave here about nine and get there when I get there?”

  “That sounds fine. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

  “So how do I get to your place?”

  “My place is five and a half miles north of town, on Gold Mountain Road. Take main street out of town, turn left on Gold Mountain, and take it to the end. I’m the only house out here.”

  “That sounds easy. See you around noon.”

  “O.K. Bye.”

  #

  Jack rang the doorbell at 11:30. Lynn and a beautiful Irish setter answered the door.

  “Hi Jack! You haven’t changed a bit. I would have known you anywhere.”

  “You and I both know better than that. I’ve put on 20 pounds and lost half my hair. But you on the other hand . . .”

  “Yeah, right, Jack. Come on in. I’ll get the salad and beers out and we’ll go out on the deck.”

  Jack studied her as she walked into the kitchen. In snug jeans, at T shirt, and a flannel shirt with the tails tied at her slim waist, she even more attractive than her photos revealed. But what struck him most was the way she carried herself – standing straight with her head held high. Her confidence in who she was showed through in every move.

  When she turned around and Jack looked away quickly. He didn’t want to be caught admiring her. He shifted his gaze to the big picture window in the living room. “Wow, what a view Lynn. I like the view from my cabin, but this is a new level of majesty.”

  “You should see it in the winter. It’s a whole ‘nother world. I have Bud light or Coors. What will it be?”

  “I’ll try the Coors, and some salt for the salad.”

  They talked about how she got to Colorado from Coal Creek, her granddaughter, her ex, and her career before she said “O.K. Jack. You know everything about me. Let’s hear about you.”

  He couldn’t talk about his real career, so he started back in high school, talking about old memories; what he thought when he first saw her – a green-eyed redhead standing in front of the science classroom window, the sunlight filtering through her shoulder-length hair; how he admired her from a distance but his fear of making a fool of himself kept him from approaching her.

  She asked if he remembered the movie they went to. He said he remembered sitting next to her with sweaty hands but couldn’t remember a thing about what they were watching. She said the movie was “Love is a Many Splendored Thing” and she still loved to watch reruns of it.

  He recounted more high school memories. The high school play they both were in and the laughs that went with it. Things that happened after she left for Florida. Friends they both remembered from Coal Creek. Lynn said she still chatted with some of them on Facebook.

  Before they knew it three hours had passed and the sun was going down behind the mountain. “Sunset happens early around here because of the steep mountains and narrow valleys. We had better move inside soon, the temperature will drop like a rock once the sun’s gone.”

  “I need to be going so I can get to town and find a hotel before dark. Can you suggest a good one?”

  “Don’t be silly, Jack. We’re both adults; you can stay here. I have plenty of room. You can take your pick of one of the boy’s old bedrooms upstairs. They have all the comforts of a hotel room – king-sized beds, TV’s, a desk, and a private bath. There’s internet available but I don’t have Wi-Fi, so you’ll have to connect to the DSL through an Ethernet cable.”

  “That’s perfect. I don’t like for my on-line work to be sent out on wireless radio signals. I’ll go up and work for a couple of hours, then we can get together for some more reminiscing.”

  Jack connected his computer to the internet and started searching for connections between Senator Forsythe and Silicon Systems. It didn’t take long to find several news photos of the Senator and the CEO of the company. There was one of them shaking hands in front of the new company headquarters, standing beside the computer system the Government was buying, and holding their clasped hands in the air during the Senator’s last re-election campaign. He went back a few years and found pictures of them at social events and breaking ground for Silicon System’s new San Jose headquarters building. So the connection between them goes way back.

  Next Jack tackled the other five files on Steve Adkins’ Ipad.

  He started by listing all that he knew about them: Mission number, code name, lead agent, start date, and mission target.

  What next? How about contacting the agents. He knew Richardson and Gutierrez from past missions they ran together, so he started with them. Whitepages.com gave him phone numbers of several with each name, so he narrowed it down to phone numbers in the D.C. area. He got a return on Alan E. Richardson, age 48, in Bethesda, Maryland. The age is about right. He remembered that he liked to be called Alan rather than Al, so he dialed the number. A woman answered:

  “Hello”

  “Hi, is Alan there?”

  “Who am I talking with?”

  “This is an old friend. We worked together at FRA a few years ago.”

  “Then you don’t know. Alan died three months ago.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that ma’am. Please accept my apologies for disturbing you. Goodbye.”

  Well, he wouldn’t find out anything there, so he looked at Juan Gutierrez. There were two of those in the D.C. area – a 33 year-old in Fa
lls Church and a 56 year-old in Baltimore. The younger one definitely wasn’t the one, and Baltimore was a pretty long commute to FRA, but he gave it a try. Gutierrez went by his middle name, Tom, so he would try that.

  “This is Jack Preston. I’m looking for the Tom Gutierrez that works for the Federal Remediation Agency.”

  “Jack? This is Tom. It’s great to hear from you. What are you up to now days?”

  “I retired a few months ago, after Helen died. Didn’t see a lot of reason to keep up the old grind. How about you?”

  “Me and Alice retired two years ago. Moved into my parents old home in Baltimore after they passed away. I get itchy for something to do now and then. Our jobs kept the blood flowing and the mind stretching, so the change is tough to take.”

  “I do some occasional security consulting that helps out, but mostly I keep busy in my lab and workshop, creating neat things that no one has any use for.”

  “I remember all the spy stuff you invented for the agency. You kept us one step ahead of the opposition with electronic gadgets that they couldn’t disrupt.”

  Yeah. . . There’s not much of a market for that stuff in the real world, though. I did some of my own research outside the agency and patented some products that paid off well, so I don’t have to live off the FRA retirement checks.”

  “Is this a social call, Jack, or is there something I can help you with?”

  “Actually it’s about a mission you did back in the spring of 2013 related to Wilson Aerojet. Does that ring a bell?”

  “ . . . Uh, you know I can’t talk about that Jack. I should hang up and report this call to FRA security. . . .”

  “Wait, Tom, hear me out. I’m not asking you about the mission, I just need something confirmed. I had a similar mission and I need to know if they were related.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s something unusual going on that may be about my mission, and I’m trying to sort it out.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Someone has me under surveillance. I did some digging and found a possible link to an old mission of mine that hasn’t been closed out yet.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “To keep you out of trouble let me pose a hypothetical situation and if it sounds familiar to you just clear your throat. Then we’ll hang up. This hypothetical is about going into a defense contractor’s facility to replace an existing file with another file. That’s it.”

  Tom cleared his throat, said “Don’t call again,” and hung up.

  #

  Jack lay on the bed thinking about what he’d learned from Tom. At least one other mission had the same objective as his Shiloh mission. His next move would be to try to talk with the other three agents. They didn’t know him, so it would be a lot tougher to find out what their mission objectives were. Right now he had no idea how to approach them.

  He wanted to try one more thing before he joined Lynn downstairs. He hunted for Alan Richardson’s obituary in the Bethesda newspaper. There it was. He scanned down to see if it would have cause of death. “Mr. Richardson was the victim of a shooting during a car jacking incident on August 8, 2015.” Nothing more. So Jack went to the news reports for that date.

  “August 9, 2015: Mr. Alan Edward Richardson was killed last night during a car jacking at the East Mall. Witnesses say that, as Mr. Richardson was getting into his car, two men forced him into the back seat of his car and drove off. It happened so quickly that none of the witnesses could describe the attackers. One of the witnesses called 911 to report the incident and police arrived within 5 minutes. An APB was issued for Richardson’s car but the carjackers escaped. At 3:45 pm today his car was discovered abandoned in Rock Creek Park. Mr. Richardson’s body was found locked in the trunk with a fatal bullet wound to the head. Police are searching the car for clues.”

  What were the chances that Alan was murdered during a random carjacking. Especially since Jack had some serious people trying to take him out. Was Alan killed because of his mission to Caspian Industries? Why would they go after him? Tomorrow Jack would look for news stories and obituaries for the other three Shiloh agents.

  Chapter 11

  Lynn called upstairs. “Jack, I’m having a drink before dinner. Are you interested?”

  “I’m coming. What are you serving?

  “My ex always kept a well stocked bar, so I can make you just about anything.”

  Jack walked into the kitchen. “How about a double Singapore Boxcar.”

  “What in the world is that?”

  “I just made it up. You said you could make anything so I was testing you.”

  She laughed at that, pointed to the bar, and said “Help yourself.”

  “Well, bein’ a hillbilly, I’m partial to moonshine, but I’ll settle for scotch on the rocks. Can I fix you something?”

  “I just drink wine most of the time, but on special occasions I’ll have a margarita. A special occasion is whenever I fix Mexican food, which is about once a week. What do you feel like for dinner? I can offer some frozen Lasagna, chicken and noodle casserole, or steaks on the grill.”

  “Well it’s probably too cold outside to be grilling, so how about the Lasagna?”

  “Great. I’ll preheat the oven, then we can go back to laughing at our teenage selves.”

  When Lynn returned from the kitchen she picked up the conversation where they left off.

  “I remember when you and Carl made your own gun powder and brought it to science class. The teacher was afraid to set it off in the classroom, so we all went outside. You lit a long fuse and ran back. We all expected it to go bang but it just fizzled for awhile. You said it was because you couldn’t find any bat guano like they used in the 1700’s, so you had to use drug store chemicals.”

  “I got that recipe out of the encyclopedia. I was also supposed to roll it in a barrel after I mixed the ingredients, but I couldn’t find one.”

  “Always the boy genius. I’m surprised you survived to adulthood.”

  “Just barely. I should have killed myself a dozen times. Carl and I got Mr. Dixon at the hardware store to give us his old neon sign. We pulled the high-voltage transformer out of it and made a spark generator – a 4-inch, 4,000-volt continuous spark ran between the two wires. Death was just a finger length away.”

  #

  After dinner they relaxed by the fire with a cup of decaf. Lynn brought up Helen.

  “I remember that you and Helen were going steady even back in 10th grade. How long did you two stay a couple?”

  “Until the day she died. We stayed together all through high school and college, and got married as soon as I graduated from WVU.”

  Jack was quiet for several minutes after that.

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I shouldn’t have brought up Helen. It must still cause you a lot of pain.”

  “Yes it does. But it’s getting better. I was really depressed for awhile, but I’ve started taking antidepressants and they’re pulling me out of it. I worry, though, that when I quit the medication I’ll fall right back into that black whirlpool unless I can find a purpose for my life – something to put some life back into my life.”

  They both got quiet and enjoyed the warmth of the fire for awhile. Then Lynn said

  “I think I’ll go to bed and read myself to sleep. If you wake up first, start the coffee. The smell will wake me.”

  As she headed for her room Jack went upstairs to his room. He thought about spending some more time on the computer, but he needed his brain to work on the problems in the subconscious mode before he made his next move, so he got into bed and tried to shut his mind down. He was out in 15 minutes.

  Lynn tried to read her book but her mind kept coming back to Jack. It was one thing to have a husband leave but to have your wife die suddenly must be tough. She really enjoyed being with Jack, but she would have to pick her subjects carefully. She wondered if he’s had any relationships since Helen’s death. Not likely if he was depressed. Maybe he
would open up to her and get some of the pain out.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning Jack woke up early and put the coffee on. He thought it was probably too early for Lynn to wake up, but five minutes later she was in the kitchen. She still had her flannel pajamas on with an old denim shirt to keep her warm. That was a nice look on her.

  “How about some coffee?”

  “I’d love it. Thanks. What would you like for breakfast? I make a mean breakfast burrito.”

  “That would be great. I haven’t had one of those since I lived in New Mexico early in my career.”

  “So, tell me about your career. Where did you go after college?”

  Jack had to tread carefully here.

  “I went to graduate school and stayed on to do some research. That’s where I developed some of the patents you looked up. After that I spent the rest of my career working for the Government as an engineer on several different projects that took me to other countries.”

  “That must have been interesting. Did Helen go with you?”

  ‘Damn,’ Lynn thought. ‘Stuck my foot in my mouth again. I shouldn’t have brought up Helen.’

  “No, my jobs were always in remote places where she wouldn’t have been comfortable. Besides, I worked 16 hours a day and we wouldn’t have had much time together anyway. But most of the jobs were short, only a few weeks, so I had lots of time at home before the next assignment.”

  “You know Jack, I’m really enjoying our time together. How long can you stay?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m planning my next consulting job. Maybe a few days, if that’s alright with you.”

  “Great. Maybe we’ll have some time for hiking. There are lots of trails around here.”

  “Sounds like fun. Well, I need to go upstairs and work for a bit. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

  #

  Jack started on the names of the agents from the last three files: James Foreman, Michael Nelson, and Harriet Goodman. On the wild assumption that whoever was after him might have killed other agents to eliminate evidence of the missions, he went back to the nationwide obituary search site and entered the first name on his list, James Kenneth Foreman, searching over the last 12 months. No hits on that one. Next was Michael Shawn Nelson. He got a hit on that one. And it was in the D.C. area –Bethesda. The obituary stated that he was 46 years old and survived by a wife and two children. He died two months ago, but it didn’t say how he died.