Rex Chase: A Novel

by Tim Wheat

  *******************

  59.

  “I love you, Edward Rex Chase.”

  A beautiful woman stood before him, and Chase stared in amazement. Blinking his eyes hard and shaking his head, he attempted to clear the cobwebs from his mind. As his eyes focused, though, the apparition came into focus; it was indeed, Mary Elizabeth.

  “I thought you were dead.”

  She approached him, her long brown hair curled over her left shoulder, a soft smile on her face. As she neared, the look of wonder in Chase’s expression was apparent. He closed his eyes and nuzzled her hand as she reached out and caressed his cheek.

  “I told you I’d love you for the rest of time.” She leaned close, whispering in his ear. “I’ll always be with you, but right now you have business to take care of. I love you my darling.”

  With that, Mary Elizabeth stood, and began backing away.

  “You need to wake up my love.”

  “No. Don’t go. I have so many things left to tell you,” Chase pleaded with the woman he loved. “I can’t do this without you.”

  “Wake up, Chase. Wake up.”

  His eyes opened and Mary Elizabeth vanished. In his love’s place, on the bed next to him, a kind looking woman sat, an expression of concern on her face. She held a wet rag in her hand, and dabbed at his forehead.

  “Wake up, Mr. Chase. Please wake up, honey.”

  “Who are you? Where am I?” Chase attempted to sit up in bed, but his muscles were stiff and sore.

  “Take it easy, my dear.” The woman’s voice was soft but stern, and colored in a thick French accent. She held him in place as she spoke again. “You’ve had a fever, but it seems to be breaking. I’ll have you good as new in no time.”

  Chase didn’t resist, and allowed himself to be pressed back onto his pillow.

  “Where is Chief?”

  “Mr. Ahiga has been quite busy, and should return soon. He asked that you please stay in bed. It seems the two of you have a busy schedule to keep.”

  Chase closed his eyes again, took in a deep breath, and attempted to focus on the image of Mary Elizabeth. She had gone, though, and for a moment, his heart filled with sorrow. Almost as quick, he purged the sorrow and replaced it with rage. He felt an animosity unlike any he had felt before towards the ones responsible for his beloved’s execution. As he opened his eyes the woman noticed the change in his demeanor.

  “You shouldn’t keep the hatred in your heart. It will burn your soul.”

  “It keeps me warm.”

  Chase’s eyes burned with the intensity of the sun. His mind was now clear, and his focus pristine. Hans and Dietrich Hoff would pay for their transgressions.

  “Revenge is for the weak and foolish,” the woman continued. “I understand what you are feeling, but you must push it far from your mind, lest your judgment be clouded. If I am informed right, the stakes are high, and we haven’t much time.”

  Chase’s eyes furrowed as he shifted his focus onto the woman. She was not a striking beauty, but she was not ordinary either. She wore her hair short, framing her face, and she spoke with a confidence that was rare.

  “How could you know these things?”

  “I know many things.” She smiled as she stood, and made her way to a table at the foot of the bed. As she dipped the rag in a bowl of water she continued. “When you and your friend washed up on the beach you were both near death. Lucky for you, a family was enjoying the area, and used a nearby telephone to call me.”

  “Who are you?” Chase asked the question with an easy tone, the anger dissipating from his demeanor.

  “I apologize.” The woman rung out the towel, moved back to his side, and sat on the bed. She dabbed at his forehead as she spoke. “I am Amy Moreau. You could say I am in charge of a few things around here.”

  Chase sat up in the bed and extended his hand.

  “Edward Rex Chase. I’m glad to make your acquaintance. How long have I been sleeping?”

  “Not long. Perhaps twelve hours. When I arrived you were in very poor shape, but as we got your core temperature up, you improved. It seems that we went a little too far, though, and you spiked a bit of a fever. All is well now, though.”

  “So, you are helping George and me?” Chase’s question was more of an open ended invitation for more information.

  “It seems we have a mutual enemy” Amy’s voice became tinged with anger. “Many years ago my husband had a business acquaintance named Dietrich Hoff. Upon my husband’s death Mr. Hoff was generous and kind. We didn’t have much, and the entire family tried to contribute, so when Mr. Hoff suggested my daughter go to work for him, we accepted. I sent letters to her that she never answered, and for years would attempt to make contact, so that I could perhaps arrange a visit. Over time, though, I came to the realization that Dietrich Hoff had kidnapped my daughter.”

  “How can you be sure of that, though?” Chase said. “Maybe she preferred to stay away.”

  “That thought had occurred to me.” Amy stood, walked to a window on the far side of the room, and pushed the curtain aside. “One day I saw in the paper the coverage for a great ball that was going to be held at Mr. Hoff’s Rhineland Estate. He was always throwing huge galas for the rich and powerful. I took a train that morning, traveled throughout the day, and arrived at his estate just in time for the party. At first they didn’t allow me to attend, but I found it simple enough to blend in with other workers.

  I gained passage via the service entrance, and made my way to the main ballroom. It was there that I saw my daughter for the first time in many years. She had grown so much and become such a beautiful young woman. It took all of my being not to run to her and hug her.”

  Amy dabbed at her eyes with an apron she had been wearing.

  “I pretended to do odd jobs for a short time; serving people champagne, or walking hors d'oeuvres around. Then, after a blustery speech by Hoff, my daughter and he began a dance. Seeing my opportunity, I approached them while the others joined in.

  My own daughter hadn’t the slightest idea who I was. I could see it in her eyes. Hoff, however, took my appearance in stride, and had me hustled off into a coat closet. A few minutes later he came into the room, explained to me that he had killed my husband, and now owned my daughter. If I didn’t want to orphan the rest of my children, I had to leave that instant.”

  Amy paused while she let the gravity of her story sink in. Chase had listened and waited while she collected herself. A few moments later Ms. Moreau continued.

  “I could see that he was very serious about my death, so I did the only thing I could do. I left, and came home to my children. Since then, the money I receive from Dietrich Hoff has gone up. I don’t know if he felt bad, or if it served some purpose for him.”

  “I can tell you one thing,” Chase said. “He didn’t do it because he felt bad. I’ve met this man under the most extreme circumstances and I’m not sure if he feels much of anything. He’s been sending you money to keep you quiet.”

  “Well, If that’s what it was for, he’s been quite unsuccessful.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, upon my return home, I contacted one of my husband’s old business associates. I just knew his name was Eric, and that he was Dutch. What I hadn’t known was that my husband and he had been working to track down a criminal who had been unlawfully taking people’s businesses from them. My husband was good with numbers, and Mr. Jorgensen is good at finding people. Together they had tracked the illegalities to Dietrich Hoff, who then murdered my beloved Christian.” A smile crossed Amy’s face as she reminisced. “I can still see his face when I close my eyes.”

  “I can relate to you there.” Chase nodded his head in agreement, and turned as the door to the small room opened.

  “It’s about time you woke up, sleepy head. We have some business to attend to.”

  A wide grin covered the face of George Ahiga as he entered the room, crossed it, and kissed Ms. Moreau on the cheek.


  “Thank you so much for your hospitality. Without you we would be dead.”

  “You would have been fine.” She arched her eyebrows and pointed in the direction of Chase. “That one, though, would have been in trouble.”

  “I thank you from the bottom of my heart as well, then.” Chase stood stiffly, crossed the room, and embraced his nurse in a warm hug. “We’re going to end this soon, and I promise you I will get your daughter back.”

  “You shouldn’t make promises like that Mr. Chase,” she scolded. “Promise you will do your best, and that’s enough for me.”

  “I apologize.” Chase took a step back as she spoke again.

  “Don’t let that hatred burn inside of you either. I let it run my life for a time, and nothing good can come of it. Stay focused, and sharp. Your training will serve you well.”

  “What training? He’s a college student,” George interrupted their conversation as a look of incredulity crossed Moreau’s face.

  “You’ve survived two encounters with Dietrich Hoff, when he meant you death, with no military training?” She raised one eyebrow while leaving the other down.

  “I’m a quick study.” Chase flashed his million dollar smile and she took notice of his deep blue eyes for the first time. Something about this man had instilled deep faith inside of her. He exuded a warmth and trustworthiness uncommon in most men.

  “Off with the two of you, then.” She made a motion as if to shoo them out the door. “If I’m not mistaken time is of the essence.”

  Both men bid her adieu and started down the long dirt road leading to the cottage. Chase was the first to speak.

  “So, couldn’t get a car out here huh? Also, where are all these children she was speaking about?”

  “Her children are all grown. It has been almost twenty-five years since Hoff murdered her husband and kidnapped her daughter. She lives out here by herself, and has no car. It’s safer for her that way.”

  “I can’t say I understand.”

  “Neither did I until I spoke with The General on the phone.” George began double timing his steps, and Chase followed. “You alright for this?”

  “Better I find out now, eh?”

  “Anyway, it seems Ms. Moreau back there is a contact of The Organization, as is Mr. Jorgensen. The people around here, who are leery of the Germans, and therefore hide things from their own government, use her as a starting point for suspicious activities.”

  “I guess they deemed our washing up on shore suspicious enough?” Chase laughed out loud before he spoke again. “So, where to next, boss man?”

  “According to the General there seem to be no less than three weapons, the closest of which is the one in the Rhineland Estate of Dietrich Hoff. It seems he is about to have a grand party, and we may be making an appearance. We have a quick fifteen mile hike, and then a train ride to Paris.”

  “Fifteen miles?” Chase turned his head and looked at the small cottage fading into the distance. “She lives fifteen miles from civilization?”

  “You can never be too careful. What are you complaining about anyway?” George sported a wide smile as he breathed deep the French air. “This is the third time I’ve done this today.”

  *******************

  60.

  Michelle’s Café bustled with activity on the bright French morning. Men and women enjoyed the crisp spring air while partaking in coffee and croissants. Tables sat on the sidewalk outside of the café, and at one of them Bobby Poppen sat, slumped over, hiding his eyes from the sun.

  “Long time, no see. How are you feeling today, young man?” Alexei Chase smacked Bobby Poppen on the back and pulled up a seat. “I told you to stop after the first bottle of champagne.”

  “My brain feels like it could pound right out of my skull,” Poppen lamented. “I’ve had at least five glasses of water and my tongue still feels like a peach.”

  Alexei loosed a hearty laugh, a wide smile across his face. The night before, he had run the gamut of emotions. Though he knew the task at hand was important, he was having trouble dealing with the loss of his son, but the presence of Poppen proved helpful.

  “I remember my first hangover like it was yesterday,” he reminisced. “I was fishing with my grandfather and he gave me four fingers of vodka. That was about three fingers too many for a ten year old.”

  “I’m never drinking again.” Poppen groaned at the thought of more alcohol. “What time is this guy supposed to be here anyway?”

  “Should be any time now.”

  The elder Chase leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and fixed his eyes on a young woman crossing the street. She was beautiful, and her attentions seemed engrossed by a would be suitor. Alexei watched as they crossed the street, paused at the corner, spoke for a moment, and then parted ways.

  The girl had gone the opposite way of the café, and Alexei watched her, thinking of the young Mary Elizabeth. Her life had been so short, and he had done little to protect her or his son. A wave of grief passed over his being, and tears formed in his eyes, as he watched the young woman turn a corner.

  “You look like the dog just took a dump in your cereal.” Alexei Chase, jolted from his wallowing, shifted his gaze to the bright blue eyes standing over him. “I mean, she was cute dad, but you didn’t have to stare, you old pervert.”

  Dumfounded, Alexei began shaking as he stood and embraced his son in a tight bear hug.

  “You’re alive. Thank you. Thank you so much.” A wide grin now dominated his face as he picked Rex up off the ground, shaking him side to side. Giggling like a school girl he continued. “The General told me he presumed you dead.”

  “Put me down, you vodka stinking beast.” Chase laughed as his father released him from the death grip. “I’d say if anyone looks deceased, it would be Bobby over there.”

  Poppen lay face down on the table, snoring. Chief walked up to the three men, smacked Chase on the back, and took a big bite from a bagel. It seemed to Alexei his son’s best friend always had a smile on his face. The elder opened his arms, picked up Ahiga and hugged him as if he were his own son.

  “George Thomas. It is a real pleasure to see you again as well.”

  “You’re crushing me, sir,” Chief groaned as Rex’s father set him back down. “What did you do to Poppen anyway?”

  “Ahhhh. It was just a couple bottles of champagne. He’ll be right as rain when he sees the two of you.”

  “Champagne,” Rex questioned. “I’ve never seen him have a drink in his life.”

  “Well, I’ve gotten him drunk twice on this trip. He is a real lightweight.”

  All three men laughed and pulled chairs up to the table.

  “So, when is this guy supposed to be here?” Chief asked the question.

  “I was just telling young Bobby here, before he passed back out, that it should be any time now,” Alexei answered.

  “I’m not passed out. I’m just resting my eyes.” Poppen woke enough to realize they were talking about him, but wasn’t fully aware of his surroundings. “If you guys could keep it down, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Dreaming of mathematical equations, champagne, and pretty French girls?”

  “Shut up, Rex. I’m dying over here.” Poppen opened his eyes, and the look of shock on his face was evident, as his senses caught up. “Wait a second.” He looked at his best friend seated across the table. “You’re not dead, right?”

  “I don’t feel dead.” Chase smiled, reached across the table, and ruffled Poppen’s hair. “I felt pretty dead a few hours ago, but I got a nice run in, and now I’m feeling a bit better.”

  “I hope the reunion was fun, girls, but we haven’t time to spare for pleasantries. I’m Commander Eric Jorgensen.” The man had appeared out of nowhere, and the four men at the table stood. “Don’t worry. You’re Alexei, you’re Ahiga, you’re Rex, and you’re Poppen. Forgive me for being short with you, but we have somewhere we need to be in less than thirty minutes.” All five men sat down at the table as
Jorgensen continued. “I’d like to start by saying I protested your involvement in this mission. The General insisted all of you were integral, though, and in my experience, his judgment is not often faulty.”

  “I’ll be honest. I’m not cut out for any kind of mission. I don’t know what you’re planning here, but I’m no soldier.” Poppen had spoken first, and received a withering glare from the commander.

  “I am in full agreement with you, but it has come to my attention that you might be the only person in the world capable of disabling the scalar devices.”

  “If I might, sir; what is it we are planning to do?” Chase asked.

  “Without getting into too many details right now, I’ll summarize. First, I will brief the four of you on our plan of attack. Second, we will leave here to go to a small landing strip in the countryside. Next, we will do a crash course in night time parachute infantry drops.”

  “Awesome.” Chase said.

  “Yeah.” followed Ahiga.

  “While I don’t hold their zeal for jumping from an airplane, that does sound exciting.” Alexei spoke third.

  Poppen rolled his eyes, and buried his head back in his arm as Jorgensen continued, a slight smile on his face.

  “After parachute training, we will go over the plan again, and I will be sure you all know your parts. We will have a quick rundown on weapons, and then we will work on our identities.”

  “Our identities? I thought we were planning an assault. Why do we need identities?” Alexei Chase asked the question.

  “An integral part of this operation is to exit the country alive. I don’t want anyone to be left in the Rhineland to die. I understand the Chase family speaks native German?” He addressed Alexei, but Rex answered.

  “Mine is native, Dad’s is tinged with a slight accent. He won’t pass as a German for long.” The concern in his voice was evident.

  “I guess you’ll have to do most of the talking, then. I had planned on you being the ranking officer and those of us who don’t speak German will be wearing gas masks on the way in. We weren’t able to secure proper Fallschirmjager masks or genuine uniforms, but we do have weapons, patches that should make our uniforms look right, a canteen, a pair of field glasses and a length of rope.”