Duty With Honor Book Five: An Unexpected Pause

by Jordan Bollinger

  "Hold on a second," she called out, as she moved over and examined the bullet wound. "That's a kind of funny looking bullet hole, Andrew. It's like a little five pointed star." She bent over and looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Why is that?"

  "Just let Jack bind me up, Beth. So we can get on our way."

  Jack took the hint, and carefully placed the little butterfly bandages over the bullet hole. But Beth didn't move. Andrew, on the other hand, was squirming around, trying to avoid her eyes.

  "Well..." she said.

  He looked up at her, and as he pulled his shirt back up, answered, "All right. The doctor did exactly what you wanted to do -- cut a few nicks to open up the wound a bit, and popped it out like a pimple. Satisfied?"

  "Totally," she said, grinning down, as she buttoned his shirt again.

  "Ah..." Jack cleared his throat, "Whenever you two are ready..."

  "Oh," Beth said, snickering, "we're ready. Aren't we, Sweetheart?"

  "Yes."

  "All right then, everyone follow me," Jack instructed. He led them through to the kitchen, and down into the cellar.

  "Be sure to close the door after us, Andy," he said.

  "Where are we going?" Beth asked. "I don't like this. I feel like the Russian royal family must have felt, as they were being led to safety in that cellar...and that didn't turn out well for them."

  "I'm going to share one of the secrets to my success," Jack quipped. He led them to an ancient wooden shelf along one wall, pressed a concealed catch, and watched their mouths drop open, as the shelf slid to one side, revealing a tunnel.

  "Bloody hell!" Drew moaned. "Sir Anthony's got secret tunnels, and now you. I feel downright deprived."

  "Oh hush," Beth said, brightly. "If you promise to be very good, I'll get you one for your birthday." But she hesitated at the opening on the tunnel and looked uncomfortable.

  Jack didn't seem to notice. He clicked a switch, and a string of low watt light bulbs lit the passage for as far as they could see, before it turned. "The original owners of this house were 'conductors' on the Underground Railroad. This tunnel connects to the cellar of another house several blocks over. I own that one, too. And that's where Ruth is going to meet us with the rental car. With any luck, our shadow won't even realize we're gone -- until it's too late to do anything about it."

  "Several blocks..." Beth said, in a very unhappy voice.

  "It's all right, Bethy. You'll be all right. We're going to be with you."

  "But, several blocks," she repeated.

  "Honest, Liz," Jack told her. "It's safe. If it didn't collapse while they were digging the metro system, it's indestructible. I promise you, it's completely safe."

  "Uh huh...it didn't collapse. But how do we know it won't?"

  "You've got to have faith, Liz. It will be fine."

  "You know, I'm pretty sure that's what you two are planning on saying if and when I ever do take the sky diving thing -- have faith -- right before you shove me out of the plane. Just so you know -- it is not particularly comforting."

  "We'll be fine. Now, move along, children. Our ride will be waiting," Jack told them, as he ushered them into the passage and closed the door to the cellar behind them.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Ruth was, indeed, waiting for them when they emerged from a similar townhouse several blocks over. She had the motor running, and when she saw them coming, she moved over to the passenger seat. They all jumped into the car, and Jack drove off in the direction of the beltway and Baltimore.

  Once they were on their way, Jack patted Ruth's knee and asked, "Did you have any trouble, honey?"

  "Not a bit. I don't think my cab was followed. Although, I was able to catch sight of your shadow. I don't understand these people. I mean, they aren't very good if they lose important items and are easily spotted. After all, I have no idea what to look for -- but there they were. Plain as day. So obvious even I could make them."

  "They..." Jack repeated. "Did you see more than one?"

  "Yes. I'm sure I did."

  "To be honest, I don't understand them either. They lose a valuable asset, and go to incredible lengths to find it again. But then they're so inept that Ruth can spot them. There's just something not right about this bunch."

  "Well," Drew said, "you're the one who said it was a splinter group. What are they a splinter group of -- exactly?"

  "Usually, when our intel denotes someone as a 'splinter group', they mean that they have no clue who these guys work for. Somewhere along the line, one of them came up with this term, and now they use it as euphuism whenever they don't have an answer. It's really tragic."

  "You see," Beth said, emphatically, "this is exactly what Father complains about. He is always grousing about how there's no honor in the profession anymore. These people don't seem particularly organized. Yet, they have all this money and time."

  "It is very odd."

  "Oh, and Ruth," Beth said, "I've already warned them that we'll expect bathroom breaks, and snacks."

  "Good," she giggled, "because I forgot to go before I picked up the car."

  "Good Lord!" Jack moaned. "See, this is why we shouldn't play with you all. We have to stop already?"

  "Oh hush, Jack," Beth told him. "I want to stop anyway."

  "Why?"

  "I know why," Andrew crowed. "She needs a Coke. I bet you didn't know that Beth's subject to car sickness."

  "But, she drove all that way," Jack protested.

  "True," she said, laughing, "but for some reason I don't get carsick if I'm driving."

  "I see." He caught her eye in the rearview mirror and said, "You know, I don't really."

  "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine if I have a Coke."

  "Bethy," Andrew crooned, "did you go on a lot of double dates before you got married?"

  "You know the answer, perfectly well. No. Why?"

  "I just thought you might like to...you know...fool around. Jack won't watch. Will you Jack?"

  "Andrew!" she cried out, blushing crimson.

  "I do love winding you up," Drew confessed, laughing.

  "I do wish you'd stop. It's bad enough in front of Jack. But now you're doing it in front of Ruth, too."

  "Well, how about this...halfway through the drive we swap places. Then you could tease them."

  "No. Now just stop!" But she leaned against him for a moment, before she remembered about his injury, and jerked away.

  "It's fine, Elizabeth. You weren't hurting me. And, I've been yearning for a bit of personal contact."

  "Andrew..." she said, in a low voice. "Hush." But she snuggled closer and rested her head against his chest.

  *****

  "All right," Andrew announced as they got back into the car after their third stop, "I've called the house. Helen and John will be waiting for us." He looked at Jack, held up his hand, and said, "And yes, she's making you muffins. Good Lord! You're as bad as the women."

  "It's all Helen's fault," Jack protested. Then, grinning, he added, "She makes the best damned muffins I've ever tasted."

  "Okay," Beth said, "once we get to the house," she paused, and checked her watch, "in another half hour or so... Then what do we do?"

  "We get the purse, locate the pen, and then examine it carefully."

  "Well, that sounds easy enough," Ruth said.

  "Yeah, it does. Doesn't it?" Beth agreed.

  "And that," Andrew inserted, "is why I'm worried."

  *****

  Emery House

  Maple Road, near the Bantam line

  Litchfield, CT, United States

  "Oh, Elizabeth," Ruth gushed, "the house is beautiful."

  "Tell Richard. It is, after all, his house."

  "Beth," Drew said, "you know that's not true. Technically, he owns it, pays the upkeep on it, and uses it for tax purposes. But, it's your house -- he bought it to be your home."

  "I suppose."

  The back door opened, a trio of golden retrievers spilled out, followed c
losely by an older couple.

  "We're here Helen," Beth called out, as she exited the car. "I hope you have coffee and muffins ready. That's all Jack's talked about for six hours."

  "The second batch is just about ready to come out of the oven, and I flipped the switch on the coffee maker when I heard the car. So, it will be fresh and hot by the time you all get inside and settled."

  "Thank you, Helen," Beth said. "Show Ruth where the powder room is, and then bring two utility trays from underneath the sink into the dining room. I'll be right down."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  By the time Beth came back into the dining room, the other three were comfortably seated -- Ruth at the far end, Andrew and Jack sitting beside one another on a long side, and an empty chair for Beth at the near end.

  A platter of cold cuts, a basket of various breads and rolls, and a little tray of condiments filled one end of the table. While the coffee carafe held a prominent place in front of Jack, along with a large, napkin lined basket of steaming blueberry muffins.

  There were two plastic cafeteria-type trays in front of Andrew, along with his little business bag. Beth handed him the purse, which he unceremoniously dumped onto one of the trays. There amid the plethora of the bag’s contents gleamed the golden pen.

  Drew pulled on a pair of latex gloves and picked it up using only his index fingers on the very end and transferred it to the empty tray. "Okay, Helen," he said, indicating the tray with the purse items, "you can take this over to the buffet."

  "Be careful, Andy," Jack warned, as Drew removed the fountain pen's cap.

  He set it down at one end of the tray and examined the pen itself. He looked closely at the nib, frowned, and passed the tray over, in front of Jack.

  "Don't touch it. Just look at the point, Jack. It looks like some sort of delivery system device. Perhaps like a hypodermic needle, or maybe even a tiny air gun." Andrew passed him a pair of the gloves, and then looked at Beth. "It might be better if you and Fitz go into the kitchen. Or, take Helen and John and the animals outside into the back yard."

  "Helen," Beth called out. When the housekeeper's head popped through the swinging kitchen door, she said, "You and John, gather up the boys and all of you go outside. Way outside -- beyond the stone wall."

  "Beth," Andrew began, "I said--"

  "I heard what you said. Ruth heard what you said. And neither of us is moving. So, just do whatever the hell it is you're going to do."

  Jack tugged the gloves one last time, and then looked at Ruth, then Beth. Then he turned to Andrew and shrugged. "Women...you can't live with them..." He grinned and said, "They aren't going to leave, so, here goes." Then he gingerly unscrewed the top of the pen from the bottom.

  As it separated, he tilted the pieces at a slight angle over the tray. A small, glass vial, filled with minute ball bearings, no bigger than pinheads, slid from the top half. Jack set the bottom half down and examined the tiny test tube as well as he was able without touching it.

  "This is bad," he announced. "I can't be sure about it. Not without having some lab rat test these pellets, but I bet you anything they're treated with something. Something very bad.

  "And, I think Andy's right about the nib of the pen being a way to propel or inject a bead into someone. We need to keep these parts separated and safe. Any ideas?"

  "Yes," Beth said. She stood up, moved over to the hutch and retrieved a small bowl, and then went to the tray containing all her purse's contents. She poked through for a second, picked up an Altoids tin and emptied the little mints into the bowl. Then she wiped it out with her napkin and handed it to Jack, asking, "Will this do?"

  "Yeah, Liz. It's perfect." Then Jack set the top of the pen and the glass vial in the tin. He'd started to close it, when he stopped and said, "Maybe we need to pad it with something?"

  Ruth pulled a tissue from her pocket, and handed it to him. He smoothed it out and folded it -- first in half and then in half again. He carefully tipped the vial and pen nib into the tissue, and gently folded it around them. Then he placed the little bundle into the tin, and closed it.

  "Put the tin over there on the hutch," he told Beth. "Then, put everything back in your purse and just set it down in the foyer somewhere. Wherever you might drop it whenever you come back home."

  Andrew spoke up, "It's too bad we don't have another gold fountain pen to stick in her purse. These guys aren't very good. They probably wouldn't even know one from another."

  Beth stepped back from the foyer, and called to Helen, "Send John to the stationary store on the green to see if he can find a gold fountain pen. And have him bring it back here."

  Jack had removed a tube from the bottom half of the pen and was studying it. She sat down at her place and fixed herself a cup of coffee, and waited.

  "Well..." Drew queried, impatiently.

  "It's a little...I don't know what to call it...I don't know...a microscope, maybe."

  "To examine the beads?" Ruth asked.

  "I don't think so. If they're intended to be used as weapons, I'm pretty sure they're coated or impregnated with the poison, or whatever. No, I think this is to read the NOC list," Jack told them.

  Andrew picked up the bottom half of the gold pen and peered into it. "There's something stuck in there, but I need a pencil, or something to get it out."

  Beth jumped up and disappeared into the living room. She returned moments later, carrying a fine crochet hook. "Here, Drew. This should work."

  "It's perfect, Sweetheart. Thank you."

  He took the hook, fished around for a second, and drew out two little slips of microfilm. He handed the first piece to Jack, who used the tube microscope and held the film up to the light. "Well, here's our missing NOC list. Although, this is odd..."

  "What?"

  "Well, Liz is the first name on the list, but General and Mrs. Morgan are the second ones on the list."

  "What?" Beth asked. "Why on earth would my folks names be on a MI-6 NOC list?" She looked at Drew and waited. As if she expected him to admit something.

  But he merely shook his head and said, "No, Beth. As far as I know, the Morgans are not agents for anyone."

  "Let me see it, please, Jack."

  Jack passed both the magnifying tube and film to her, and waited.

  "I don't think this is an MI-6 NOC list. I've seen at least a dozen of them in Sir Anthony's files. And none of them included addresses -- including zip codes for the US addresses." She continued studying the list of names and addresses, and suddenly burst out laughing.

  "Just what is so damned funny?" Jack asked her.

  "This isn't a NOC list -- MI-6 or anyone else's. It's part of an old Christmas card list of Richard's."

  "What?"

  "No, Elizabeth..."

  "Are you sure?" Drew asked.

  "Positive. That's why my folks are on it, along with Cathy's oncologist, and the kids' orthodontist. I know he's been dead for at least three years. He was killed in an auto accident. I remember, because the twins didn't care for his partner -- but had to see him until their braces could come off."

  "But...why?" Ruth asked, wearing a very puzzled expression on her face.

  "I've no idea. To quote Alice, 'Curiouser and curiouser...'"

  Jack's hand sprang out, as he said, "Let me see the glass again, please." Then after a several moments perusing the second piece of microfilm, had let out a gasp, and said, "Holy Guacamole!"

  "What?" the others asked in unison.

  "This is a list of bank accounts -- in Switzerland and the Cayman Islands. Whoever these people are, they have way too much money and dangerous toys to play with."

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Jack Lloyd's House

  Georgetown, Washington, D.C., United States

  A car pulled up in front of Jack Lloyd's Georgetown townhouse and two men got out. They seem unworried and unhurried as they moved to the stairs.

  "I have no idea why we're doing this. All I know is, Jack called and said he needed a p
aper from his desk. We're to overnight it to him," the first man said, as they ran up the steps to Jack's front door.

  "Where is he this time?" the second man asked, in a rather loud voice.

  "Back in Connecticut again. He's always getting caught up in things with that Oliver guy -- you know, the one that works for our 'brother,'" the first man answered as he unlocked the front door and headed inside.

  Laughing, the second man followed him, saying, "Yeah. I don't think that guy can do anything if Jack isn't holding his hand."

  Fifteen minutes later, the pair re-emerged. The first man was carrying a 9-by-12-inch Fed Ex envelope, under his arm, with the address written in big, black, block letters, facing outward, and clearly visible.

  They returned to their car and pulled away. Once they'd turned the corner, the passenger pulled out a cell phone and dialed it.

  "Yeah?" the voice on the far end answered.

  "They're on their way. It was like stealing candy from a baby."

  "Well, one of you should probably get out of the car and watch -- just to make sure they got the message. Whoever these people are, they attended the 'Lucy Ricardo Spy School'. And even then, I don't think they graduated."

  The man laughed and then agreed, "Okay. I'll have Phil drop me off and I'll hang around. But, Jack..." he added, "you owe us for this." Then he ended the call.

  *****

  "Well," Jack said to the other three around the table, "you heard my guys. Our shadows are on their way. Now, I'm going to run this," he said, holding up the Altoid tin, "to the Hartford field office. Want to come for a drive, honey?"

  Ruth stood up, smoothed her skirt and said, "Well, yes. I think I would. As long as Andrew and Elizabeth don't need me."

  "You all go on. But Jack," Andrew said, "don't wait for an analysis. Just drop it off. Get them working on it and come right back. No side trips."

  "Spoil sport," Jack said, as he reached out for the last muffin in the basket, and added, "One for the road."

  "Be careful, you two," Beth warned as they left.