Rick Carter's First Big Adventure (Pete's Barbecue Book 1)

by Samuel Belcher

  “And I smelled milk, bad milk.” Roger added.

  “Roger was the first to spot it coming.” Mel elaborated. “He tried to warn the regular Company people, but the warnings got muddled in bureaucracy.”

  “That was a lot of bad milk,” Roger added. “I have a pet cockroach!” He eagerly explained. “And he talks.”

  “Well, before you know it we were in a full- blown crisis and swimming in…in big ugly nasty man-eating spiders. There were thousands of them that came out of the tear from somewhere. They fell on the island, and boy was it nasty. Initially, it was confined to this area. Hundreds of people were killed, the island virtually destroyed. But, then it started to spread to other parts of the globe. It took every resource we had to seal the tear and defeat the army of arachnids. That’s why it’s still called the Great Arachnid War. We lost a lot of innocent people that day. We failed to do the one primary task we have, which is to detect things before the event arrives and save lives. That’s our primary function. Hundreds of thousands were dead by the end of it.” Mel trailed off into silence.

  Rick had reached the point, listening silently to Mel’s story, where he simply did not have an adequate response. He was completely at a loss as to what to say. So, instead of something pithy, he simply said. “Crap.”

  “I made a promise to myself and others that I would never let it happen again,” Mel said in a tone filled with more depth and resolve then Rick had heard out of him yet. “That’s when Roger went south on us. Some things are just too much for one person to handle.”

  “I don’t much care for milk anymore, either,” Roger added.

  “Now, here we are, staring down the barrel of another catastrophe. And I don’t plan on playing catch-up this time while people die. That’s why we need you, Roger.” Mel looked at his twin who was smiling.

  “What about it, Roger?” Rick asked him. “What have you seen?”

  “I told the Managers. They brought me magazines to read from the future. Another bad time is coming. I’ve seen it. I also saw you and a white Crown Victoria. Want to know what you were doing?” Roger asked cheerfully.

  Mel interrupted. “What did you see, Roger? Did you see where it was coming from?”

  Roger shifted a little and ignored Mel questions. “I think it would be neat to remember when you were a baby, don’t you think?” He asked Rick. “I saw the tear, and it was big. I also saw an old Viking guy on a ship. He was dressed in yellow armor, and he was fat. I think blue was more his color.” He smiled happily. “Stay away from Rio de Janeiro, Rick.” He leaned over and whispered. “Bad things happen to you there.”

  “What about the tear, Rog? Where is it coming from?” Mel persisted, growing a little frustrated. “We need you to tell us where it’s coming from so we can fix it.”

  Roger remained silent, staring down at the table top.

  “Roger?” Rick asked softly. “Do you know?”

  Roger looked up again, his face downcast. “Not a clue,” He said, and he started talking to his shirt pocket again. “But, I do know you don’t have much time.” He added.

  Pete looked worried at Mel. “How much time, Rog?” He asked.

  Roger tried to concentrate, and the effort made him twist and contort his face into a strange looking mask. “Just a few days, at most.” He said slowly. “And the rocket’s red glare.”

  Rick was uncomfortably dissatisfied. “That’s it? That’s all he’s got?”

  “Roger, you’re sure you don’t know where it’s starting from?” Mel asked again.

  Roger smiled again. “I can’t see it. But, I know somebody who can.” He said in a half teasing half mocking kind of voice.

  Mel sighed deeply and sat back in the booth. Pete seemed agitated beside him.

  “He doesn’t know, bra.” He looked over at Mel.

  “We’re gonna need somebody else.” Mel grudgingly spoke. “We’re gonna need the best. And we’re gonna need him fast. We can’t fool with the Company trackers. They’ll take too long.”

  Pete sighed deeply and sat back against the booth. “The Tracker,” He muttered.

  Rick’s eyes darted back and forth between them. “Wait a minute.” He was more aggravated than usual. “We just broke Roger here out of some techno-twisted psych ward, illegally I might remind you, so he could tell us, according to you, what’s about to happen. And now you’re saying we need someone else too? And who’s the Tracker?”

  Mel let the criticism slide for the moment. “The Tracker is the best tracking agent the Company ever had. There’s been a lot of Trackers in the day, even some now. But, this guy was the best. No one could outdo him, and he could find anything. And I do mean anything.” Mel explained.

  “Da trouble is, he don’t work just for anybody. He was never a full-time Company Tracker. He sorta work on his own, like me.” Pete added.

  “Which means we need Tormodis, too.” Mel sat back and let out an exasperated sigh. “Why? Why do things always have to work this way?” Mel reflected.

  Rick opened his mouth ready to infuse the conversation with some more critical observations. But, Mel saw it coming and headed it off. “He’s another piece of this business I don’t like to talk about. Not the most pleasant person in the world and that’s on good days. Pete’s worked with him more than I have. He’s an older guy, maybe 60ish, heavy set, real nasty temper and not easy to deal with. But, he’s got this unique ability, and he only works free-lance with the Company. But, he’s the only one that the Tracker will work with. If we need the Tracker, then we need Tormodis first.”

  “And dat’s not gonna be easy. He go where he wants to. Impossible to trace wid my gear.” Pete added.

  “We’re just going to have to try,” Mel said. “What choice do we have? We already have one spider out there. No telling how many more are wandering the jungles as we speak. We need to get back to the Pot and see what we can find.”

  Rick looked at him stunned. “Back?! We just left!”

  Pete shook his head emphatically. “What you got to do first is get some sleep, bra. You runnin’ on nutin’. You make bad decisions when you tired, Mel. Everybody does.”

  Mel leaned over closer to his old mentor. “We already have spiders in the jungle, Pete.”

  Roger laughed. “That sounds like an old sixties war protest song.” He began to sing. “We got spiders…in the jungle…”

  Pete cut him off. “Things will be alright till morning. Da Island will manage wid one or two of dem spiders. ‘sides Rog here done tolt us we got, at least, one day, maybe two.”

  Rick huffed slightly. “I don’t understand you guys. I’m gonna get something to eat.” He declared and got up to raid the kitchen of anything resembling dinner.

  Pete raised his short, thick finger in the air. “And I’m gonna get the guns. We might need dim before the mornin’.” Pete took the motto Always Be Prepared as a life mantra. Being prepared had saved him more times than he could remember. “And tell Dennis to keep the room ready.” He added as he exited the back door of the diner.

  The sky over Guam began to grow an ominous red color as the sun settled in the west. But, no one on the island, nor anywhere else, seemed to notice. Weird things happened all the time on the island. This was, after all, the Pacific Rim, home to the super typhoon, Godzilla, giant spiders and Pete’s Barbecue.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Old Debts

  “Margaret, do we have to carry all of this around?” Sam Rogers questioned his young wife, realizing the answer to his question before it was completely out of his mouth.

  Margaret replied with a semi-pouty lip and wide hurtful brown eyes meant to engage his manly sense of chivalry. But, Sam was immune to this ploy for sympathy. She had used it on him too many times in the past. “Just carry the bags, Tor. That’s what I married you for.” She promptly moved to the next shop, chuckling to herself when she realized that her little retort rhymed. He was standing there with four white shopping bags in each hand; his shoulders slumped in ab
ject dejection.

  “Great. I thought it was my ample personality.” He replied and followed her into the busy boutique. He instantly regretted it. It was yet another shop filled with women’s clothing, women’s shoes, and women’s accessories. How could women possibly need this many shops? He caught up to her looking at purses, really expensive red purses with monograms on them that he didn’t recognize. “I mean why can’t I just pop home real quick with these bags and then be back before lunch? Why do I have to carry them around everywhere?”

  Margaret didn’t let him distract her from her quest for another purse, an expensive purse. “I told you. We’re normal today, just like everyone else. And we’re going to act normal. So, be quiet and let me look.” She commanded.

  He watched her move in and out of the many racks, inspecting every little item that she came across. He hated shopping with her, but he couldn’t help wanting to at the same time. She was so radiant. Her round face framed in her long brown hair, her big brown eyes scanning the merchandise and her small frame moving like a fairy in and out of the stand and racks. He was enamored of her, had been since he met her just four years ago. He loved her completely and, in truth, would do anything she asked him to. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t complain about it first. He had some male pride.

  “Why did it have to be Tampa? I hate Tampa; you know that.” He whined.

  She shot him a disapproving look as she set down another pair of designer shoes. “We haven’t been here before. I just wanted to come.”

  Sam sighed. “I’ve been here before. And it wasn’t a pleasant experience.”

  “You shouldn’t let one little incident spoil you on the whole place.” She chided him. She found a silk scarf that matched her light complexion and began to model it in a mirror. “Besides, that was a long time ago.”

  “Long time yet.” He corrected her.

  “Whatever. It was one time. You were young.” She laughed as she spun lightly around with her scarf. “Grab a taxi for us. I’m going to buy these purses and this scarf.”

  Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. “You already have six purses here. How much is this stuff?”

  Margaret waved her finger in the air disapprovingly. “If you have to ask…” She started. “Besides, I don’t think you’re going to miss the pocket change. You promised me you would let me shop and not give me a hard time. Now, taxi, please.” She smiled at him.

  He knew better than to argue with her. He pretended to stamp in protest and then went back outside to do as she asked. He could never say no to her.

  He walked down to the curb of the street, in front of the long row of boutiques and dress shops and looked up and down the street. The street was busy, with all four lanes almost bumper to bumper but there was no sign of a taxi. Finally, he saw one approaching, a white Crown Victoria with the letters Tampa Taxi on the side and the number 168 prominently displayed on its light-up roof sign. He tried to wave frantically with his hand full of bags. He felt like an idiot. Fortunately, the driver spotted him and maneuvered through the traffic to stop directly in front of him. Sam opened the back door and tossed in the bags, he leaned over and spoke to the driver. “My wife’s finishing up. She’ll be out in just a second.” The driver nodded that he understood while he lifted a radio microphone to his lips and began to speak inaudibly. Sam didn’t care. He just waited on the sidewalk at the open door until she finally came out with two more bags. It was a good thing that they were insanely wealthy.

  Sam’s attentions were on his beautiful wife, and he failed to notice the two men slowly and stealthily approach him from the right. They had been watching him for the past few moments, but their presence had gone unnoticed. They were just a pair of businessmen in gray suits talking to each other on a busy sidewalk under the bright glaring sun of the blue Tampa sky.

  “Mr. Rogers.” The tall thin one addressed him sharply, unconcerned with his rudeness or tone.

  Sam turned quickly, hearing his name spoken so formally. “Yes?” He asked as he turned. His eyes met the thin man and he instantly knew the face, the tight, almost gaunt face with the tight pale lips, the thin red eyebrows, and the well-groomed red hair. “Oh, for the love of all that’s holy.” Sam said in disgust. “We’re on vacation here gentlemen can you not leave us the hell alone?”

  The thin man straightened himself slightly as if he had just been affronted, but chose to pass it off instead. The second man, the shorter and heavier set of the two, grinned and rubbed his forehead. “Mr. Rogers,” he said, “we need to discuss this situation.”

  “What we need to do, Mr. Ball, is kiss off. I told you no and I meant it.” Sam became defensive. By this time Margaret had come out and, seeing the two men beside her husband, instantly recognized the issue. She walked up to Sam with a queenly air.

  “You two have some nerve,” She said. “We’re on vacation.”

  “I was just explaining that to them,” Sam added.

  “Mrs. Rogers.” The thin man bowed slightly in greeting. “I’m sure you have to understand that we need to settle this issue.”

  “Mr. Tabert, I believe my husband told you no last time. In fact, I think he threatened you with a shotgun. What’s it going to take to get the point across?” She spoke pointedly to him.

  Mr. Ball spoke instead. “Margaret, look you have to understand that we can’t just let this thing go like that. We’re obligated to follow up on this type of anomaly. And you two are about one of the biggest anomalies we’ve ever seen. We can’t have people just porting about at free-will, no matter what their abilities allow them to do. That just completely undoes everything we’re trying to accomplish here. Now, as we indicated before, we’re going to have to go to our headquarters and discuss some arrangements, something to guarantee that your trips won’t interfere with our work.” He spoke very kindly and calmly with a dash of rational thrown in for good measure.

  Sam raised his hand in a threatening like manner. “I go where I please, gentleman. Look, I didn’t ask for this. We’ve been through this. But, I’ll be slapped silly if I’m gonna shackle myself down with your Company rules. Margaret and I go where we please when we please.”

  Mr. Tabert looked at him coldly. “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Rogers. We cannot allow this to continue.” He stood firmly, eye to eye with him and didn’t flinch. The battle of wills was almost tangible in the air between them.

  “Or what, Mr. Tabert?” Sam asked. “And drop the Mr. Rogers crap. It’s Tormodis now.”

  The taxi driver spoke up loudly from the front seat. “Mister, are we going?”

  Sam turned. “Just a second!” He shouted back. “Look, we’re late, and we’re leaving. Just leave us alone.” He said, and he stepped aside so Margaret could get in the taxi. He followed directly behind her. Before he shut the door, Mr. Tabert leaned in.

  “We will talk, Mr. Rogers. It has to be done.” He said, and he slammed the door shut with a loud boom that rocked the Crown Vic from side to side. The driver didn’t wait but pulled away from the curb quickly sensing that an altercation was about to happen.

  Margaret watched the men standing there behind them on the curb watching the cab drive away.

  “What an ass.” Sam said and settled back into the fake leather seat.

  The driver seemed somewhat agitated. His eyes were frantically watching his passengers in the rearview mirror. “Everything okay?’ He asked. He was a heavy-set man in his thirties.

  “Yeah, it’s all good,” Sam said, grabbing his wife’s hand and holding it tightly. She looked at him with those big wide eyes. “Say could you just take us to the Marriot?” He spoke to the driver.

  “Sure. Which one?” The driver asked.

  “The one down by the bay.” Sam quickly replied.

  Margaret was troubled “Are they never going to leave us alone?” She asked her husband.

  “I don’t know. They’re the most dogged two bastards I ever saw.” He shook his head.

  “They worry me, Sam,”
She said. “I mean what can they do? They sound serious.”

  Tormodis held her hand tightly, for his well-being as well as hers. “They can’t do anything. They’re just blowing smoke. Just ignore them, honey.” He said. His youthful ego wasn’t impacted by idle threats from two annoying suits. He was still young enough to convince himself and her that he could handle it.

  “I didn’t want anything to spoil our anniversary,” She said with a sad little voice.

  “And it won’t. Don’t worry. I’ll take you someplace tonight for a great dinner.” He tried to sound enthusiastic. “After all, it is our first.” He said with a, smile and he leaned over and kissed her lightly.

  They had been married for a year. It took four years to corner him into getting married, or at least, that’s the way he liked to tell it. Their relationship started in 1987. The four years before their marriage were filled with a whirlwind of strange and bizarre revelations and discoveries. He did finish college, though. Finally, in 1991, they were married. Now a year later they were enormously wealthy and vacationing in Tampa, Florida in 1997. That’s how things work when you can travel through reality at will, taking advantage of historical knowledge to build a fortune in investments and land deals. The last they checked they were worth over $400 billion but that was an estimate and was subject to change each day. It might be double that by now.

  “Where are we going for dinner, Sam?” She asked.

  “I heard about this great barbecue place. It’s supposed to be the best in the world. But, it’s in Guam.” He replied.

  “Oh, Sam you said no porting while we were on vacation.” She seemed annoyed, but he knew better. She was just giving him the usual hard time he got from her when he refused to obey the rules.