“I can’t see, El.” He grabbed for her arm.
Moving right in front of him, Ellen laid her hand on his face. “I’m right here.” She slid it down to his arm. “Let me help you.”
Dean blinked, still looking so bewildered.
She couldn’t get him to move. Ellen wanted to wait until he was ready. She had never seen Dean like that. He actually started to look scared. “It’ll come back.” She moved closer to him as he knelt on the ground. Staying with Dean in her focus, Ellen blocked out everything around her until she was forced to remember what was happening when Dean went down. Two gunshots fired in the air, She snapped her head up and her attention away from Dean. Henry stood there with a gun, reaching down for Frank and pulling him off of John. Joe ran in quickly behind, moving to John, maybe as a sense of protection.
Henry pulled Frank back further. “Calm down.”
Frank closed his eyes and breathed heavily. He brought his hand to the corner of his mouth. “Fuck, I’m bleeding.”
“Not bad.” Henry nodded to John. “Not as bad as him.” He watched as Joe helped John up. “At least he can stand.” He then saw Dean on the ground with Ellen. He moved a few feet to them. “What did you do, Dean? Did you try to break it up? I’m not even that dumb. I fired a gun.” He didn’t get a response only panic filled eyes from Ellen. “El?”
Ellen shook her head and returned to Dean, speaking in a barely audible voice. “How’s it going?”
“It’s coming back.” He let out a loud breath and took the embrace fully that Ellen gave to him.
Frank’s mouth dropped open. “What the fuck is this shit?” He indicated to Ellen and Dean. “I get beat up and she’s all over him?”
Henry shook his head. “Oh sure, Frank. You’re beat up.”
“I am. I’m bleeding. Look.” He showed Henry the blood on his hand and watched Henry cringe. Quickly Frank wiped the still damp blood on Henry’s arm.
“Frank!” Henry stepped back, wiping his arm on his own pants. “You’re an asshole.”
As Frank started to laugh, he forgot about his anger. He was reminded of it when he heard his father’s stern yell. He spun to Joe who was balancing John. “What?”
Making sure John wouldn’t fall again; Joe released him and walked to Frank. “What was this shit?!”
“Dad, he deserved it.”
“He what!?”
“He was . . .”
“I don’t want to hear it right now. I’m taking John to the clinic. You, clean your ass up and meet me at my office in twenty minutes. You hear me.” He didn’t get a response “You hear me!?” Joe yelled louder.
“Yeah I hear. I’ll be there.” Frank placed his hands on his hips.
“You better have a damn good reason for beating this man like that. You got that? Damn good.” With a pointing finger, Joe stepped back and went to John to escort him for medical attention.
Henry watched Frank as he stared at his father leaving. “Frank? Do you have a good reason?”
“Yeah,” Frank sniffed, wiped his mouth and motioned his head to Ellen who was helping Dean in the house. “Ask her.”
“Ellen?” Henry took a breath. “Oh boy.”
“What?”
“Well Frank.” He stepped back when he saw the snapping look on Frank’s face. “For as much as I care, her word about John around here doesn’t mean much and you were part of discrediting her.”
“Shit.” Frank ran his hand down his face.
“Exactly.”
“No-no.” Frank held up his hands. “I had reason. Good reason.”
The door to Joe’s office slammed so fiercely it would have rattled just about anyone. Anyone that is, except for Frank. He sat in the chair waiting, biting his nails, looking at his fingertips, being cool and calm even though Joe projected everything but that.
“Don’t get up, Frank.”
“I’m not.”
“I was being sarcastic.” Joe walked behind his desk with a storm to his stride.
“So was I.”
“You beat the man Frank. Eight stitches in his right eye. Nine in his left. Six on his top lip.”
“He’s still alive?”
“Yes, goddamn it, he’s alive.” Joe seemed agitated.
“Then I failed somewhere.”
“What!” Joe’s voice raised. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“With me? What the hell is wrong with you coming down on me for beating up the guy? First off, you never come down on any two men for fighting.”
“You’re right. I let whoever it is work it out. But you aren’t just any man.” He saw his son scoff. “You are the strongest man I have ever met in my entire life. You are driven by emotions. Your rage fuels your strength. You can kill a man with your bare hands and that gives you a big responsibility to control what it is that drives you. You have to. If you ever let lose it on someone, you can kill them.”
“I have.”
Joe rolled his eyes and ran his hand down his face. “You’re missing my point. You can’t just get into scuffs for no reason around here.”
“No reason?” Frank leaned into the desk. “The man should be dead. He should be made to pay for everything he did. What I gave to him was just the beginning. When he admits to what he’s done and what he’s been a part of, I will take great pleasure in tearing him limb from limb. And I will get him to admit it.”
“Admit what?” Joe threw his hands in the air. “That he had a confrontation with Ellen. He admitted that.”
“Did he tell you he called her a little bitch? Did he tell you he warned her all while grabbing her?”
Joe nodded. “He said he was harsh with her and he owes her an apology.”
“Did he tell you he tried to kill her?”
“What?” Joe laughed. “Where is this coming from? One argument does not . . .”
“No Dad. He tried to kill her when Moses went up to that mobile after her and Dean. John was there. He was the one who grabbed Ellen. Those scars on his hands are Ellen’s mark of trying to fight whoever it was that held onto her. No blood on Ellen’s clothes? Of course there was no blood. John wasn’t bleeding.”
“Frank, where are you getting this from?”
“Robbie’s investigation box. He had it noted about the scratches and the blood.”
Joe started to laugh. “None of that was conclusive.”
“And then there’s Dean.”
“What about him?”
“Dean remembers, after he was shot, seeing someone grab Ellen, seeing this person as they carried her away. That person was John.”
“Jesus Christ.” Joe’s expression dropped. “Why is this only coming to my attention now? This happened how long ago? Why didn’t Dean say anything?”
“Well because . . .” Frank slumped in his chair. “He thinks it’s just a dream. He doesn’t know it’s a memory yet.”
“Frank.”
“Here me out. We’re working on that. Jason is going to hypnotize him to see if it’s a dream or a memory. Either way, I have to do this first.”
“Frank.” Joe tried to remain reasonable. “Listen to me. Robbie went through this, all but the dream thing. None of this is conclusive.”
“I know this, Dad, and I’ve just got to get John to own up to it.” Frank spoke with passion. “Listen to me. Robbie had it noted in his notes that every single time John is provoked or threatened, he strikes out and something else happens. He gets into a fight with Ellen, someone breaks into Henry’s house. Robbie fights with him, the circuit box is rigged. There are a lot of incidents. Me, I went about it a sneaky way, but I let John know today I was on to him. In a joking way, what happens? He goes directly to Ellen, as planned. I followed him because I knew that was what he was going to do, just like Robbie’s notes said. He’s guilty Dad. Guilty and I have a feeling he’s the inside man for George. He's not doing a very good job, but he's the inside man none-the-less. He’s communicating with George somehow.”
“I just don�
�t . . .” Joe’s eyes shifted down to the stack of papers on his desk. He saw the note from Henry on top and took a second to look at the activity reports. “You think he’s communicating with George?”
“Yep.”
“What do you think he’s telling him? There’s not much to tell him.”
“I’ve been thinking about this.”
“Oh boy.” Joe kept staring at the reports.
“What if he’s telling George about our Robbie attacks and where Robbie is going to go? George knows what we’re up to. What if Robbie didn’t just happen upon this virus with his men, but it was a set up. Dean says the virus’s incubation is different. George set them up with a virus. George knows through John that Dean pegged the five day incubation period. Knowing this, George hits them with a virus with a longer incubation period. They supposedly are virus free, walk into Beginnings, and then bam . . . they get sick, therefore starting our plague. He infiltrates us with our own men.”
Joe slowly stood up from his desk. “You amaze me sometimes.”
“I amaze myself all the time.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, Joe moved to the filing cabinet.
“Dad, I may not be the brightest man in Beginnings, I know that. But my gut is usually right. Right now, my gut is screaming at me and I just can’t shut it up. The only thing I can’t peg is how John is talking to George.” He watched Joe rummage through the filing cabinet. “I mean, we have the communications room. We should have gotten the signal, our monitors that is.”
“Not if John’s making the call from the communications room.” Joe dropped reports in front of Frank. “Not if he's going in there and calling from there.”
“We should have a record of any indicators going off.”
“Not if he turns the tracking off.”
“How’s he doing that? We have a monitor in there?”
“He sends the monitor on a break, shuts of the tracking, makes his call, turns the tracking back on, and then monitor comes back. It’s all here. Look at all this activity. I didn’t pay it much attention until Henry brought it to my attention. This past week had a lot of activity. My guess is they were talking about Robbie and the virus.”
“So what we should do is catch him in the act.”
“So to speak, yes.” Joe handed him all the reports. “Review this tonight after your game and let me know if you can come up with a pattern here. I’m going to install a keypad down there like Henry suggested and just so John doesn’t know we’re on to him, the number we give him will be a different number than everyone else. Only he’ll think it’s the same as, let’s say, security and councils. We’ll tell him it is, he’ll use it, we set it up through the system and bingo, we know when and how much he’s going in there.”
“We can bug that room.”
“Yes we can.” Joe situated himself behind the desk. “But first thing is first. You have to go to that clinic and apologize to him for pulverizing him.”
“What?!”
“Listen to me, Frank.” Joe held up his hands. “You tell him you were upset the way he treated Ellen and you are having a bad day. You are sorry for beating him up.”
“I’m not sorry.”
Joe winced. “I know that, hard head, but you’ll make it seem that way. I’ll go and lecture him on treating Ellen with respect and get him to apologize to her. We want him to think that the beating you gave had nothing to do with his connection to George. If we are going to bring him down, we are going to do this right.”
“So let him think he’s off the hook and bust him?” Frank saw his father shake his head. “No? We’re not busting him. We’re not killing him or throwing him out?”
“Sure we will, but we’re at war right now, Frank. John is on the inside working for the enemy. I say, let him stay. Let him work for the enemy. Give him false information once we confirm he truly is talking to George. Let him give us what we need. Have him work for us, then when we have won, we deal with John Matoose.”
“Sort of like a double agent and he doesn’t know it.”
“Exactly, but let me tell you something Frank. You have to know your enemy. You have to get into his house. You have to find out his secrets. Who knows John probably better than anyone. Who’s closest to him?”
“I’d say his wife.”
Joe nodded. “Jenny. Get close to Jenny. Let her let you into their lives and once you’re in and trusted, you have pretty much cart blanc of their house. Right now, if he thinks you’re on to him, he’s not letting you anywhere near him. That’s why we have to go through Jenny.”
“Get close to Jenny?” Frank drastically shook his head. “No way. I’m not getting close to Jenny. I’m not sleeping with her, Dad.”
“I wasn’t thinking about you Frank. I was thinking about Ellen.”
“You want Ellen to sleep with Jenny?”
“Christ no.” Joe slammed his hand down. “Befriend her . . . don’t laugh. Jenny is a very strong female ally in this community. She keeps the females all together. She coordinates them, has group meetings or something like that. She comes to me with problems they have. If Ellen befriends her, through let’s say her need for female companionship, cause let’s face it, Ellen has none, she just might pull the right chord in Jenny.”
“Ellen will never do it,” Frank stated.
“Yes, she would.”
“Nope,” he disagreed strongly, “I’m telling you. She won’t.”
“And I’m telling you she will. Talk to her tonight.”
“All right.” Frank threw his hands up. “Am I done? I want to go see the kids before the game. I still have the field to set up.”
“You’re done.”
Frank stood up. “You still refereeing?”
“Yes. You boys can’t play nice without me. Don’t forget your clinic stop to John Matoose.”
“I won’t.” Frank moved to the door.
“Frank,” Joe tapped the activity reports, “you forgot these.” He waited until Frank picked them up. “One other thing. Remember what I told you about controlling those fists of yours. You’re usually really good about that.”
“I know.” Frank headed back to the door. “I don’t know what came over me. I lost it.”
“Even if you feel you have good cause, try not to lose it again on some poor unsuspecting soul, especially people you have to live with.”
“I will.” Frank opened the door. “Thanks.” He pulled the door closed, wiggled his jaw, and spoke out loud. “He didn’t say anything about John nailing me. Fuckin Dean.”
“I heard that.” Joe called from his office.
Frank looked puzzled at the door and lowered his voice to a whisper as he walked away. “He heard that? Man, I thought the hearing was the first to go when they get that old.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Let’s go. You’re out.” Joe tapped Henry on the shoulder as he held the clipboard and pointed backwards to the sidelines of the field.
“No, Joe.”
“Henry you’ve been hit. You took a shot center chest. That’s a deadly hit. You’re dead. You’re out.”
“Joe, that’s not right.”
“Why do you argue with me every game we play?”
“Because Joe, I’m the only one you always send out no matter if they get hit by a corpse or not. Dan shot me. Dan’s been dead for ten minutes, therefore I’m not dead.”
“So therefore you’re out. Get out Henry or you won’t play next game.”
“Aw.” Henry stomped off the field plopping down next to Dan who was covered with red paint. “I hate you.”
Joe stood watching the game. Four men remained and one of them was Frank. He could see Frank darting in and out rolling around acting like such a big kid. Soon he heard the popping gunfire and saw Frank, red paint on his thigh holding Marcus in the air. “We won! I caught him.”
Joe lifted his whistled and blew three times loudly. “Game’s over. Fall in for scores.” He moved across the field to Frank. “Good
job.”
“Sixty fuckin miles an hour and I got him.” Frank held out Marcus who looked almost six but was barely one. The pudgy kid with a square head and no hair kicked his legs out and laughed a grunting laugh. “Marcus,” Frank spoke to him, “if I put you down will you go with Joe?”
Marcus grunted and nodded his head.
Frank set him down and bent down to Marcus level. “Good job. Rest up and we’ll do it again.” Frank held out his hand and quickly retracted it. “What did I tell you about that biting shit? Take him, Dad.” Frank stood back up.
Joe reached down for Marcus but stopped. “What is this? Who shot the kid?” Joe indicated to the red paint on his back. “Who killed the trophy?”
From the field, weeds high, Cole held up his hand. “Sorry Joe. I was trying to get Frank.”
“Well that takes fifty points off your score. Come on Marcus, let’s go let Andrea check you out to see if you can play another round.” He held tightly to the little boy’s hand and brought him over to Andrea who sat reading a book. An umbrella shaded her from the evening’s sun. “Check him out, Andrea.”
Andrea set down her book. “Come here, Marcus. Let me look at you.”
“Why are you here today instead of Dean? Marcus is his study.” He watched Andrea examine Marcus.
“Dean’s not feeling well. I think it’s stress.”
“Stress?”
“Joe, you know he has an awful big load to carry on his shoulders with this virus.”
“So do the rest of us, Andrea. I’m trying to keep it out so he doesn’t have to deal with it. I’m not stressed. Do I look stressed?”
“Old. You look old, Joe.”
“Eh.” Joe waved his hand at her. “Where’s he at now?”
“Home. He and Johnny confirmed it today. Robbie’s men have our new virus. They just injected rabbits or something like that to get a grip on it. They said it’s mutated so they don’t know how well the agent they had reaction from will work on it.”
A huffing Frank joined them. “How is he? Is he ready? My men await.”
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 245