LOST AND FORGOTTEN: Book 2 The Secret Path

by Maurice Barkley

  “Hey, James,” she said, “how you doin’?”

  “On the way home in Harry’s taxi,” I replied. “I have the package.”

  “I know, Harry checked in a while back. Have you examined it?”

  I described the contents including the penciled lines on the maps.

  “So now we know where he came ashore,” she said, thoughtfully. “Do you agree we should follow up on the sub?”

  “I think it could be a mistake not to. Too many things are still up in the air and there might be some critical information waiting for us. Who knows?”

  “I’ll contact our oceanography experts,” Alice said. “We think he came ashore during the early morning hours. Those guys know all about currents and stuff so they should be able to give us an approximate location for a search. Lord only knows if there’s much left after all this time.”

  “It might not be in international waters,” I said. “Gunter had to be near the shore to have survived.”

  “Where there’s a will,” she replied, “there’s always a devious way. We’ll have a planning session as soon as you’re here. Bring Harry with you and oh, yes, I have a report on the bastard, Morgan Bruno.”

  “Can’t wait,” I said. “Can we go to dinner after?”

  “Yes, we can and yes, it will be on me again.”

  “It’s only fair,” I said. “I still don’t know anything about my salary or where the money is.”

  “Children, I’m dealing with a pack of children,” she moaned. “Mommy will make it all better. Stinky—out.”

  CHAPTER 6

  A car was waiting for us at Bill’s Garage. After a fond look at the Hercules, Harry and I hopped in for a quick ride to HQ. After our welcome home, the Band gathered around the table for Alice’s report.

  “I’ve been in touch with Amisi, who has been very busy and has transferred from cloud eleven to cloud twelve. It was no mistake to leave her in the tomb. She has learned that it was probably an unknown Pharaoh that perished in a major flood. It was possibly around three thousand BC, near the time of the Pharaoh Narmer, the first known Pharaoh, but she isn’t sure. The flood seems to be the cause of the end of the so-called industrial revolution of that particular society. She found references to someone called the teacher or the instructor who also went away at the same time. Her search goes on, but she misses us and sends her love to all.

  “A ship is on its way to the coast of Brazil. I expect that by the time it is on station, our experts will have determined a likely location for the sub in question. A missile frigate from Mayport, Florida will go along to provide security. Next, Morgan Bruno is under house arrest on his airplane and will leave Germany very soon. The plan worked perfectly and Fritz has earned another bonus. The one fly in the ointment is Howard Rector who is the chief bastard in charge of the bastard Bruno. I saw him earlier today and he is why I’m delivering this report while standing. God, I wish we could get rid of him. He is to Bruno as a lion is to a pussycat. My ass is black and blue from the chewing I got. He’s one of the Directors useful idiots so we have to stand and take it. That goes for you too, James.”

  “Me?” I said. “Whaad I do?”

  “You’re alive and you work for me and that’s all he needs to know. El Bastardo convinced him we caused the trouble and he’s out for blood.”

  “Perhaps I should return to the Canal Zone,” I suggested.

  “If you do, I’ll go with you,” Alice said, “but it’s your turn in the barrel so suck it up and report to his office. All you must do is stand there and take it without giving any lip and without telling him a thing. My report is complete so you might as well go and get it over. When you return, I’ll tend to your wounds.”

  “Who is to be my guide?” I asked. “You know I can’t find my way anywhere in this maze.”

  “There’s an under-aged lady named Amy waiting for you in the lobby. She will be your guide. She’ll probably fall in love with you on the way, so control yourself.”

  “I’m getting a reputation I don’t deserve,” I said. “Just remember the tend my wounds thing when I get back.”

  I said farewell to the Band and went to the lobby. The only person other than Jackie the receptionist was a small woman standing next to her discussing something or other. She appeared to be in her early twenties. I approached, introduced myself as James and followed her bouncing ponytail out the door.

  The journey to this guy’s office was even longer than the usual expedition from one place to another in this mammoth complex. In retrospect, this was a good thing because, if anything, I would wish that his office were on the dark side of the moon. My very necessary guide was at first highly solicitous of this ancient package in her charge. She kept a slow pace and kept asking me if she was walking too fast. Little did the poor dear know that she was dealing with an ex-Army Ranger. One who had, just days ago, run full tilt over a very inhospitable desert in the wilds of Egypt. My masculine ego urged me to demonstrate my splendid physical condition to this little twerp, but I knew she meant well. She soon saw I was walking without effort and led me on at a normal pace. On entering the anteroom of Mr. Rector’s office, my guide told me that she would wait there until I returned.

  “Bless you, my child,” I said. “I’m sure you would not abandon me here in this frightful maze.”

  After informing the severely attired receptionist that I was here to see Mr. Rector, I took a seat next to my guide. By then she had opened the book she had been carrying and was deep in her studies or her entertainment. We were ten minutes early so it didn’t bother me to sit with nothing to do. It did begin to bother me when, according to my Ralex I had logged twenty-five minutes of thumb twiddling.

  Finally, a buzzer buzzed and Ms. Prim ordered me to enter through a solid door behind her desk. I grabbed the knob, but it would not turn. I looked at the lady with raised eyebrows. With the innocence of a newborn babe on her face, she pressed a hidden, button under her desk and the lock released. She sure showed me who was in charge in this area.

  I smiled and said, “Thank you,” while opening the door and passing into a new and unknown realm.

  The office of Mr. Rector was big, but sparsely furnished. His large oak desk sat centered near the back wall. This left a bigger than necessary open space in front, completely empty except for two plain oak chairs placed about four feet from the edge of the desktop. This was my first sighting of this particular big cheese and I was very much not impressed. First, because his looks reminded me of my long ago third grade teacher, Miss Londers. She, like the specimen before me, was past middle age, scrawny and very strict looking. She did not like children. I couldn’t yet pin that charge on Mr. Rector, but to my mind it was a sure bet. He, like Miss Londers did not look up from his writing as I approached his desk. This was an ancient and unimaginative ploy and I felt my hackles rise as I reached the first chair.

  “Sit,” he said, while indicating the chair with a twist of his pen.

  Still he did not look up, but I sat quietly and looked around. There were no photographs on his desk. What little there was on the walls seemed to be internal awards of merit for obscure reasons. The guy had the same style wire-rim glasses that graced the beak of Miss L. I found myself wondering about the color of his eyes. He must have thought that the old guy sitting in front of his desk had poor vision, but my twenty/twenty revealed that the son of a bitch was just doing wiggly lines on a scratch pad. I made a long count to ten then stood up. “Mr. Rector, I’ll come back when you’re not so busy.”

  “Sit,” he said without looking up and with the same pen motion as before.

  I turned and walked toward the door.

  “YOU SIT DOWN RIGHT NOW,” His voice boomed throughout the room so loud that I suspected he had a hidden microphone and speaker in his desk.

  I turned and looked at him and by gum, he had gray eyes, just like my third grade teacher. The first thing I did was to send him the two-arm lewd Italian gesture that I reserved mostly for Batts. That
shut him up as I thought it might with these pompous office dictators.

  I then replied in my loudest voice, “SCREW YOU, SHITHEAD.”

  He looked aghast, but curiosity overcame his anger.

  “Your name is Cagney, but what are you—Indian. From India?”

  “No,” I replied. “I come from Bovalino by the Sea, but you would do well to avoid that place.”

  I popped through the door and told Ms. Prim that her boss wanted to see her. Grabbing my much-surprised guide by the hand, I left that terrible place on the double. Not feeling safe, I didn’t slow down until we were down a long corridor and around a corner. It was with surprise and pleasure that I noticed that my solicitous guide was quite out of breath while her elderly charge was breathing normally.

  “Amy, my child,” I said, as we walked along, “I have involved you in a rather nefarious caper. Before long people will be looking for us, so I expect you will deliver me to Ms. Dance’s office by the most devious route possible.”

  “No kidding?” she said, looking at me with wide-eyes and a smile as good as Miss Magic’s from the Silver Diner. “What did you do?”

  “I called Mr. Rector a shithead.”

  Amy choked with laughter that filled the entire hallway, causing people to stop and look.

  “That’s priceless,” she said, while gasping for air. “We only call him Mr. Rectum and only behind his back. Okay, so we’re on the lam—follow me. Does this make me your gun moll?”

  She swiped her card through one of the small devices that stood guard over most of the doors in the building. We entered a stairwell that looked like an area of the building reserved for janitors. It was not dirty, but it lacked decoration or carpeting. I was glad that we headed down instead of up. I didn’t want to further test my stamina.

  About four floors later the stairs ended and we went through a door marked BM. Amy told me it meant building maintenance to some and bowel movement to others depending on the individual’s needs. I was liking this gal more and more as we moved through dim corridors filled with a multitude of piping and mysterious metal boxes. The absence of hissing pipes blowing steam across our path disappointed me, but the clanking and ticking did create a satisfying atmosphere.

  We soon came to a larger room that was even more loaded with pipes and control panels. Amy made a beeline for a large pull-down wall map that looked incredibly complex. She finger traced a route, grabbed what looked like a large allen wrench from a rack of similar tools then scooted down another corridor. I trailed along in her wake.

  “These are all maintenance tunnels,” she said, while weaving around some odd protrusions. “This makes it possible for workers to move around the building without disturbing the professional occupants. I think maybe they also don’t want a guy in bib overalls hauling his toolbox down the main corridors, but of course, they wouldn’t admit to anything like that. The best part is that virtually none of you office workers know that these tunnels exist. Internal security is a joke if the fugitive has access to these places.”

  Eventually, we reached and ascended a clanking iron stairwell that I handled quite easily, then toodled down a few more tunnels. Amy stopped at a door with one of the ever-present numbers stenciled in industrial black spray paint. She turned a handle, pushed through and I found us in a place I had visited on my first day in the building.

  “This is the entrance to the bathrooms that service the lobby where Ms. Dance has her office,” Amy explained, as she closed the door. “On this side there is no handle, just this little hole. When I go back, I’ll use this wrench. I’ll bet you wouldn’t even recognize this as a door, would you?”

  “Not a chance,” I said. “It just looks like a wall.”

  This bathroom complex had its own mini lobby and that was where we were standing. Doors on each side led to the Ladies’ and Men’s rooms.

  Amy turned to me. “Why don’t you take over? I’ll pretend I’m just a hostage.”

  “You have an admirable streak of self-preservation,” I said. “You should do well in a place like this—let’s go.”

  When we exited the bathroom, I noticed that the big lobby was empty except for the ever-present secretary. It occurred to me that, although I had not passed through here often, I had never seen another warm body in any of the comfortable chairs.

  “Hi, Jackie,” I called to her across the room, “can you buzz us in?”

  Jackie spun around in her chair and looked at us wide eyed. “Where did you come from? I saw you go out. You didn’t come back. How did you get here? Everyone is looking for you and I do mean everyone.”

  “Relax Jackie,” I said. “Just be happy that you’re not me and buzz us in.”

  “Momento,” she said, while picking up her house phone. “Ms. Dance, the man called James and his escort are here, shall I have them come in?”

  Amy and I couldn’t hear Alice’s response, but we noticed Jackie’s face go a bit red as she quickly reached under her desk for the buzzer. Alice and the boys were standing behind the table with their backs turned toward us until we were in and the door closed. As soon as they heard the click, they turned and graced Amy and me with howls and hoots of raucous laughter. Harry was banging the table with both fists. Amy just looked around in confusion and clutched her book to her chest. It took me a moment to reorient my defenses because I was expecting a hurricane, but walked into a tropical breeze.

  “What?” I said, with a slack jaw look. “Is my fly open?”

  Alice came to stand next to me and flung one arm around my neck. “My man, you have become legend in this building. Word of your escapade has spread faster than crap through a goose. You’ve become a bona fide hero to hundreds of long suffering employees. My only problem now is how I’m gonna kick your ass and pat you on the back without losing my balance.”

  By now I knew that my rear end would never really feel her boot. I also knew there would be questions.

  “How about the Director?” I asked.

  “First,” she countered, “tell me how the hell you avoided detection. The whole place is searching for you.”

  “Amy here has a magic wand.” I turned to my guide and lifted the hand that was holding the door opener. “I think that a demonstration is in order so let us retire to the restroom and Amy will reveal all.”

  “I can do it right here if you like, “Amy said, with all of the innocence of youth. “I see a door right over there.”

  She was pointing at the wall behind Alice’s desk. Now it was my turn for a surprise, along with the rest of the Band.

  “Holy cow,” I exclaimed, while the rest of my tribe looked on. “Go ahead and show us please.”

  With a self-important demeanor, Amy marched to the wall, inserted her allen wrench and pulled open the heretofore-invisible door. We all stopped breathing while waiting for the eruption.

  “Sonovaroyalbitch!” Alice gasped. “What in the livin’ Hades is that?”

  “A door,” Amy said, with the impish grin on her face.

  “Careful sweetheart,” Harry said. “The carpet you’re standing on is high explosive and you just lit a match.”

  “Just kidding,” she said hurriedly. “It’s the entrance to one of the many maintenance tunnels. They go all over the building.”

  “Who?” Alice said, while looking around.

  The news overwhelmed her so much that she couldn’t form a sentence. I turned to Amy and asked her to tell them what she had told me. She complied swiftly and soon the Band members were up to speed along with Alice’s temper.

  “Can you believe it?” she sputtered. “Our security is Mickey Mouse and Goofy imitating the Keystone Cops. Never again will I leave anything of importance in this office. I’m living in a Swiss cheese factory and the mice are in charge.”

  “Squeak,” Amy chirped, with the impish grin back on her face.

  “Sorry Amy,” Alice said. “I wasn’t making a reference to you.”

  Our boss went to a chair and sat down with a thump th
at sent it rolling back several inches. “Jesus. Everyone sit down while I digest this.”

  Her loyal troops did as told and quiet reigned for a short while. Alice threw her feet up on the tabletop and pressed her fists to her eyes. “The Director wants to see all of us as soon as possible so I guess we should move out. Amy, can you take us there via the service tunnels?”

  “Sure,” Amy replied. “As I said, they go everywhere.”

  “Lead on then,” Alice said, while rising from her chair.

  “We should leave through the bathroom,” Amy said, while heading for the door to the waiting room. “It gets confusing otherwise.”

  As our group trooped through the waiting room, I saw Jackie watching us closely. When we entered the bathroom, her eyebrows reached their maximum height.

  “Don’t worry, dear,” Alice called to her. “Just be cool and play dumb.”

  As our journey began, Alice asked Amy, “How long will this take?”

  “About fifteen minutes,”

  “Can we arrive in the Director’s conference room?”

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I check the tunnel map.”

  When we arrived at the basement room, Amy went to the big wall chart. After finger tracing a new route, she told Alice there was a door opening to the conference room.

  “Excellent,” Alice said, “Lead on Minnie Mouse.”

  We left in yet another tunnel. Alice called the Director and informed him that the entire Band, including James, was on its way. She told him to expect to see us in the conference room and to get ready for a big surprise.

  A few minutes later Amy stopped before another numbered door and indicated that we had arrived. She pointed to the handle and Alice slowly pushed the hinged panel open. The door we were at was on the wall opposite from the door we had entered before. The Director was standing in front of it with his back to us.