Truth Insurrected: The Saint Mary Project

by Douglas, Daniel P.

“There is a positive socialization factor, something I think my brother could benefit from. I’ve learned many practical skills, but mostly I’m learning how to fit in and interact with different people.”

  Stone stared at Janice over the rim of his mug as he took another long sip.

  “There’s also my internship.”

  “Ah, yes.” Stone licked his lips. “Tell me about it.”

  “It’s a requirement for the degree. It’s part-time and pretty routine, but I’m learning some valuable lessons about civilian investigation practices.”

  Stone opened another file and clasped his hands together, resting them on the center of his desk. “What I mean is tell me about Peter Aaron Zemdarsky.”

  “He’s a career PI. Mostly fraud cases, some missing person cases. He has some corporate security accounts. That’s his most lucrative line of work. He has contacts everywhere in Tucson. Actually, throughout the Southwest. Politically, socially. Very connected. Although you wouldn’t know it to see him or talk to him.”

  “We’ve noted contacts between Zemdarsky’s office phone and Senator Vaughn’s home phone.”

  “Yes, he and the senator’s husband are longtime acquaintances going back to childhood. The two of them chat from time to time, but nothing more than discussions between old friends.”

  “And William Bernard Harrison?”

  “That’s a little different.”

  “You’ve checked him out then?”

  “I did some background on my own, but General Taylor helped fill in the gaps. You should have a copy of my status reports. The transition instructions said to direct the correspondence to you. The Harrison matter is really just for practice. General Taylor thought it would be useful.”

  “So, Harrison is not a loose cannon?”

  “No, and General Taylor didn’t really think he would be. Harrison still maintains his liberal views about national security, but his concerns these days center on his work, his dog, and a desire to find a wife. General Taylor just wanted me to practice my infiltration skills, so to speak. It worked out well that this guy also happened to be in Tucson.”

  “You know, Harrison worked for the FBI.”

  “Right. In fact, he’s helping to train me. My internship will extend to the next semester, because I started it late, so I’m looking forward to deepening my skills.”

  Closing the file, Stone said, “You really have come a long way, Janice. It’s so fulfilling to see you making this progress.”

  Janice refrained from responding. A storm surge had suddenly engulfed her and dragged her under and away from solid ground. She squeezed blue padding on the chair’s armrests. Her knuckles tightened, whitening from the pressure.

  “That’s why I don’t believe there is any need for you to return to Tucson. You’re ready for the real thing. We’ve got some exciting things coming up, and I want you involved. Your brother could use some help. We keep him busy. He never complains, though, but he shouldn’t be expected to do all of the heavy lifting by himself. You need to contribute too.”

  “But what about my formal education?”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll educate you here and, when the time comes, at North Range. You’ll love the new base. It’s in the mountains. Clean air, clear skies, quiet, and solitude. Everything is brand new. It has that fresh paint smell.”

  “I appreciate your confidence in me.”

  “That’s the easy part. Believe me, if we had more people around like you, Saint Mary would be much better off. Now, I don’t want to rush you out of here, but my adjutant out there and I have some important things to discuss over lunch. I’d ask you to join us, but you’re scheduled to meet with Dr. Schmidt in about thirty minutes.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes. And you don’t want to keep that old fascist waiting.”

  “No. I better go.”

  General Stone interrupted Janice’s exit with an awkward hug, saying, “I know how you need that now and again, Janice. Of course, I let James get his hugs from Frau Schmidt.”

  In the outer office, Janice shook off the creepy feeling. She saw Colonel Ritter squinting at a strip of old color photographic negatives. He stood up as Janice passed by.

  “It was a pleasure, Janice.”

  His sentiment felt sincere. “Same here, Sam.”

  <> <>

  Breeding?

  Silence filled the examination room, and the air inside vacated it. The vacuum surrounded and suffocated Janice.

  “Did you hear me?” Dr. Schmidt said.

  Janice blinked and sucked in what little oxygen seemed to exist in the room. “I heard you.”

  “Then report at eight a.m. tomorrow. We will retrieve the eggs first, and then continue the remaining exams. Get dressed now.”

  Fatigued and fearful, Janice lacked sufficient energy to fuel her anger at the disturbing news that Saint Mary planned to produce the next generation of hybrids. She used what little energy she had to resist the tears that wanted to fall.

  After removing her hospital gown and changing into her comfortable navy-blue jumpsuit, she headed to the cafeteria, trying to clear her mind. A difficult journey, especially when she noticed some of the guards wore holsters that encased a familiar firearm. Not exactly like Harrison’s Colt .45, but similarly constructed. How easy it would be to control its removal. How quickly the end would come.

  No, they would blame the guard.

  The route to the cafeteria took her through several checkpoints and up two flights of stairs. Interaction with sentries, identification scanners, and thoughts of Harrison helped repel notions of a final surrender. She hoped for change, for an escape, and for Harrison to remember what so many people needed him to remember. Assessing options was complicated and just plain hard. She was so hungry and tired.

  And buried so deep in the ground.

  “Sorry, ma’am, there’s not much left.” Along the food display, only scraps of white rice, mashed potatoes, gravy, baked chicken, and mixed vegetables remained. The young server looked confused.

  “It is late,” Janice said, noticing it was nearly seven o’clock. Some of the kitchen crew cleaned up the dinner mess.

  “We still have some meatloaf in the oven. At least, I think we do, if they haven’t already tossed it. Or, you’re welcome to what’s left of the chicken.”

  Neither sounded very appealing.

  “She wants a cheeseburger, Airman,” James Evans said, sauntering up to the counter next to his sister. “I’ll eat the chicken. Add a slice of meatloaf, too.” The airman’s compliance with his orders began right away. “Whip her up some French fries while you’re at it too. Hi, Janice, long time no see. The German bitch thought you might be here.”

  “James, I didn’t know you were here. You look good.” Janice exuded a pleasantly surprised tone, another practiced behavior.

  “More than I can say for you. You look like shit. You’ll perk up after dinner. You still like cheeseburgers, don’t you?” He grabbed his plate from the server. “Bring it out to her when it’s ready. And bring us some fruit, too. Oranges, preferably. And two Cokes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come on, Janice, let’s sit and rap for a while. I would have hooked up with you earlier, but Schmidt wanted no interruptions. She’s been in such a mood lately.”

  James took Janice by the arm and escorted her to a table in the corner of the cafeteria, well away from the service counter.

  As they sat, James said, “Your burger will be right up.”

  Janice leaned toward her brother and whispered, “Thanks, but, do you think it was a good idea to use your control on him like that?”

  James leaned forward too, mouth already full and chomping steadily. “I didn’t. They just respect me so much it’s ridiculous.”

  “I didn’t get that impression.”

  “Respect comes in a variety of ways. It’s a goddamn rainbow. A fucking spectrum.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Anyway, you know the rule
s. No unauthorized scans. Boy, if Randy Stone found out, there’d be hell to pay.” Bits of food dropped at regular intervals from James’s jabbering mouth. Scraps landed on the front of his black turtleneck and crimson cardigan sweater. He brushed away the loose particles. “We should have gone out to eat. The food sucks here. Oh well, into each life a little rain must fall, I suppose. Just ask Frau Schmidt.”

  “She seemed her usual self.”

  “Wait just a second.”

  The server approached the table. “Here you are, ma’am.” Nervously, he set the items down, accidentally dropping an orange onto her lap. “Sorry, ma’am.” He departed before she could accept his apology.

  “That actually looks good,” James said, staring at the cheeseburger.

  And it was. Janice took three or four bites before saying another word. Cheeseburgers were her favorite. Eating one never failed to remind her of the first meal she ate on the outside, a trip to McDonald’s on her sixteenth birthday.

  “You know Thirty-Seven and Thirty-Eight?” James said.

  Janice nodded, wiping a napkin across her mouth.

  “Well, Thirty-Seven tested out, and Thirty-Eight must have had some sort of union with it, because it expired soon afterward. Just sort of slipped into a coma and expired.”

  “How’d Thirty-Seven test out?”

  “I shot it. Hey, can I have some of your fries? So, Schmidt’s bummed out because almost all she has now are more ice cubes. The freezer’s loaded with them. Thirty-Nine and Forty are still kicking, though, and seem their usual annoying selves.”

  Janice pushed her plate closer to James. “Help yourself.”

  “Thanks. Schmidt just needs to get outside more often. She’d see things for what they are. She’d see what Saint Mary is up against. So many out there want us to fail. It’s hard keeping tabs on all of them.”

  “So, is that what you’ve been doing lately, keeping tabs on people?”

  “Yeah, no thanks to you, little miss schoolgirl. You’re missing out on a lot.”

  “Not anymore. Stone’s bringing me inside. My school days are over.”

  James’s face lit up. Janice had to look away. His expression, circumstances aside, exuded such innocence and purity. It reminded her of their childhood, when things were still simple, when James read to his little sister, when they played music together, she on the flute, and he on the guitar. Skills mastered, skills tested. But they were too young to know otherwise. Everything was so easy for them.

  “I know we’ll make a great team. In fact, I could have used you in Vegas.” James paused, staring into empty space. His chomping ceased. After a quiet moment, he said, “Yes, a female would have been less suspicious.”

  Janice did not need to sense her brother’s thoughts. His arrogance thumped her. It was wavelike at first, then rapid pulses harmonized into steady pressure on her muscles. He was very strong, and he was not even trying.

  His whispered, contemplative tone continued. “Yeah, that way if anyone saw you with the sergeant in the bar, it would have appeared like a couple out for drinks.”

  Disgusted, Janice asked the question anyway for appearance’s sake. “How did you handle it?”

  James glanced at Janice’s class-five security badge, and then back at her. He winked and said, “I called him in advance and told him to meet me at a particular bar. I told him I had information concerning a friend of his that had died. Then, I got him drunk. Only, this guy never drank alcohol. Until he met me, of course. I manipulated him. I walked him out of the bar, and sent him into the street. Bam!” James smacked his palms together. “That was it, end of story.”

  “What about this friend of his?”

  “I took care of that too.” James’s eyes appeared unfocused and glazed over. “Gunshot to the head. Just concentrated my thoughts and transmitted the image I wanted. No struggle, no resistance, no evidence. Except for the suicide note I had him write.”

  “They were security problems, weren’t they?” She set her cheeseburger down.

  “Yep. Are you going to finish that?”

  “Help yourself.”

  “They were weak links.” James shoved the remnants of her cheeseburger into his mouth. His cheeks bulged as he resumed speaking. “Nonessentials who witnessed things beyond the scope of their duties. Mmm, this is a good burger.”

  “What did they witness?”

  “Bad guys from outer space. Real close up and personal with the incident. Mmm, shit, this is good.” He swallowed the food along with some Coke.

  Janice’s facade weakened. Revulsion took control. She mustered what little remaining strength she had and said, “I can’t wait to hear more about your work, but I’m worn out from the flight and the exams. I should get some rest.” Janice stood, cupping her hand over her mouth.

  “But you haven’t told me about your life yet.”

  Janice faked a yawn. “How about tomorrow, big brother.”

  “Okay, but make sure it’s tomorrow. I’m leaving on another assignment tomorrow night. We’ll do lunch.”

  Hate and anger swelled within Janice on her way back to her quarters. The anger hit her hard, and she wanted to fight back any way she could. After reaching her quarters, retching and weakness overcame her. She clenched the toilet seat until her hands ached, a fitting end to the worst day ever. And tomorrow, Saint Mary planned to take her eggs. When she finished vomiting, Janice had no strength to stand. It did not matter. There was nowhere to go. No one to turn to here. She clutched the silver roadrunner pin in her hand. Hollow echoes from her sobs resonated off the solid white tiles that lined the bathroom walls and lulled her into sleep.

  Chapter 22

  He Kept Your Little Secrets

  In Las Vegas, at the Sundowner Inn, Harrison made a point of being very visible, spending nearly two hours in the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast, and walking to and from his car after his meal. Around ten o’clock, tired of merely waiting, he drove to the police station and requested copies of the reports for both incidents described in the newspaper articles Echo Tango had sent to him.

  Now, Harrison drove to the end of a cul-de-sac in North Las Vegas trying to find an address listed on the police report about the death of air force sergeant Eric Gonzales. After finding the address and parking his car, he looked at himself in the rearview mirror. He should have trimmed his beard. Many stiff, gray whiskers, mostly around his chin, disrupted the smooth contours of the brown ones.

  With a pen already in his shirt pocket, he retrieved a notepad and the police report from inside the briefcase. He took a deep breath. There were no headaches today, so Harrison felt good putting on his suit coat, determined not to be just an errand boy for Echo Tango.

  The quiet, well-manicured neighborhood was void of cars parked on the street, with the exception of his black Dodge Charger. Bell- and holly-shaped frames adorned the street’s light poles, each wrapped in garlands and Christmas lights. Most houses displayed decorations to one degree or another. A street sweeper must have driven through earlier, as a damp trail wound around the edge of the roadway. A gentle breeze carried the scent of freshly washed asphalt.

  When he reached the door, the neighborhood’s serenity made Harrison pause. He wished not to disturb it. Healing was under way behind the door. But, it was healing without the truth.

  Harrison pushed the doorbell. A minute or so later, an elderly man, dressed in a blue sweatshirt and tan slacks, answered the door.

  “Good morning, sir,” Harrison said. “I’m Wesley Hiatt, with Insurance Underwriters. Is Megan Gonzales here?”

  “Yes, my daughter, Megan, is here.”

  “I realize this is a difficult time, and I’m sorry to intrude, but I have a few questions regarding her husband’s accident. It’s just a routine follow-up for the air force and shouldn’t take up much time.”

  “What was the name again?”

  “Wes Hiatt.”

  “And you’re with?”

  “Insurance Underwriters,” Harriso
n said. “We do some contract work with the Defense Department, in this instance, the air force.”

  Megan’s father directed Harrison to a seat on the sofa in the living room. “Megan is upstairs with the baby. I’ll go get her.”

  Out of habit, Harrison surveyed his surroundings. A Christmas tree, easily nine feet tall and densely decorated, dominated the room. Statuary, the style and characterization of which resembled that of lawn gnomes, shared space with the furniture. Three wise men stood next to Harrison where an end table might sit. Mary and Joseph, Christ in Mary’s arms, sat between the tree and a corner fireplace. Greeting and sympathy cards hung throughout the room and on the mantle.

  Just like when his parents died.

  A woman descended the staircase. “Mr. Hiatt?”

  Harrison stood and said, “Yes, ma’am, are you Mrs. Gonzales?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss and to intrude like this.”

  Megan sat in a rocking chair across from Harrison, while he returned to his seat next to the wise men.

  “I promise this will be brief,” Harrison said.

  “Thank you.”

  “These are merely routine questions, ma’am.”

  “I understand, but I thought all of this was already taken care of? I’ve talked to so many people, so many.”

  “Understood, ma’am, which is why I intend to not take much more of your time.” Harrison removed his pen and balanced the notepad on his leg. “Can you tell me, Mrs. Gonzales, did you and Eric live here?”

  “We lived in base housing, but I moved in here shortly before the accident. I needed help with my son, and didn’t want to be alone so much. Eric spent a lot of time at work.”

  “And his most recent assignment was in air traffic control?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  Harrison took a deep breath and exhaled. “I know this is difficult, and I apologize for asking, but the police report stated your husband was intoxicated. Did he have a drinking problem to your knowledge?”

  Megan blinked several times and sighed. “Actually, no. He never drank. I guess he was under more strain than I thought. This would have been the first time that I know of.”