Infringement

by Benjamin Westbrook

  Bleeker sat back in his chair and began a slow rhythmic clap, which lasted for nearly a minute. “Bravo, Mr. Martino. Bravo. There’s certainly no silencing the agent of truth, is there. Well, I’ll refrain from offering a retort as, clearly, it would fall on deaf ears. As you’ve so artfully elucidated, one cannot overcome the truth.”

  Bleeker stood up from behind the desk, and rolled his head a couple of times, first clockwise, then counter clockwise. “One of the Homeland officers will return your laptop shortly, and you’ll be on your way back home. We are, however, holding onto your passport for the time being.”

  “Under what authority?”

  “If I have to pick one,” he said as he headed toward the door, “you’re suspected of aiding a wanted domestic terrorist. The NDAA provides me with all the authority I need. If that doesn’t sit well with you, the president’s martial law order sets out discretionary travel restrictions that serve the interests of national security. Good day, Mr. Martino. I’ll be in touch.”

  Louis jumped up to protest further, but Bleeker left the room and two Homeland officers came in and forced Louis back into his seat, one of them saying, “You’ll get your computer back in a minute. Just sit tight until then and don’t give us any trouble.”

  _______________________

  In another office down the hall, Bleeker picked up his cell phone and dialed a phone number.

  A familiar voice on the other end answered, “Costello here.”

  “Costello, it’s Bleeker. It’s come to my attention that your interim Special Agent in Charge, Kevin Cameron, has been communicating with Louis Martino, apparently trying to get a message to Parker.”

  “Do you think he’s trying to help Parker?”

  “I’ve yet to fully form an opinion on that one. He could be attempting to bait Parker with news about his brother being arrested. Time will tell, but in the meantime get Cameron under surveillance. Be subtle about it. I want to know everywhere he goes and everyone he talks to. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal.”

  “Keep me up to speed. I want a report by noon each day.”

  Bleeker hung up the phone and looked at the man in the navy-blue suit. “I want a visit paid to Louis Martino tonight. Send him my regards, but don’t eliminate him. I want a message delivered that will be both memorable and painful. Understood?”

  Chapter 66

  “Everything is set inside. Are you ready, my dear?” Megan’s Uncle Ignacio asked her.

  “I’m ready.”

  Uncle Ignacio held his umbrella out over the car door. Megan stepped from the car onto the stone walkway and hurried quickly into the ancient San Antonio Abad Chapel in Cusco. She wore a simple, elegant white dress, as understated as it was beautiful.

  “I wish we could wait for your parents and family to arrive,” Uncle Ignacio said as they walked into the Cusco baroque-inspired chapel. “This is a moment that cannot be relived.”

  “I know, but Declan and I just wanted something simple, under the circumstances. We can all celebrate together after we get Declan’s family down here too.”

  They stepped quietly to the back of the chapel. Megan looked ahead to see Declan standing at the front, with Atau standing next to him and another local man standing off to the side with a small camera.

  “Who’s that?” she asked.

  “He is my friend, Freddie. I’ve known him for many years. He’s a guide and an expert on the Inca. We needed an additional witness and Freddie loves weddings, so I asked him to meet us here. I thought he could take some pictures also.”

  The priest approached the steps near the lectern and a pianist began playing Pachelbel’s Canon in D, to Megan’s surprise.

  “I didn’t think we’d have any music, given the short notice,” she said.

  “Another friend of mine and my special treat. My niece can’t get married without music. I wouldn’t allow it.”

  “Well, aren’t you a regular Red Redding.”

  “Red Redding?”

  “A man who knows how to get things.”

  “This is only the beginning. Wait until you see the suite I booked for you two here at the Monasterio tonight. Complete with a romantic in-room dinner.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “I did. You’re my only niece and you’re going to be married in style, whether you like it or not. Besides, your mother, my sister, would not let me live another day if I’d let it be any other way.”

  “What if someone recognizes Declan?”

  “My darling, there are only three people in all of the Andes who paid any attention to that article, and we’re all here. You needn’t worry. The manager of the hotel is also a good friend of mine. I assure you that you’re in good hands. You stay here tonight, indulge and enjoy. Atau and I will pick you up in the morning.”

  Megan’s eyes began to well up. “Thank you,” she replied, and kissed her Uncle Ignacio on the cheek.

  “It’s my pleasure. Shall we?”

  Megan nodded and began her walk down the aisle on her uncle’s arm. Declan stood motionless about twenty feet in front of her, watching her with an enormous smile on his face. Despite having only met Declan, Freddie’s smile was nearly as wide as he snapped pictures of Megan making her way down the aisle, in time with the music.

  “Freddie’s taking plenty of pictures,” Megan whispered to her uncle as they walked.

  “I told you,” Uncle Ignacio replied, “He loves weddings, all weddings.”

  As they ultimately made it down the aisle and to Declan’s side, Declan whispered, “You’re more stunning than even I’d imagined.”

  “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  Freddie stepped quietly to the side and snapped a few photos of the couple together, before the priest began.

  “Who presents this woman in marriage?” the priest asked.

  “I do,” Uncle Ignacio responded and stepped back, leaving Megan and Declan standing opposite one another before the priest.

  The priest began in English, with a heavy Peruvian accent, “Megan Neary and Declan Parker, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?”

  “Yes,” they responded in unison.

  “Will you honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?”

  “I will,” they answered.

  “Will you accept children lovingly from God, and bring them up according to the law of Christ and His Church?”

  “I will,” they replied again.

  “As it is your intentions to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and His Church.”

  Declan looked directly into Megan’s green eyes and began, “I, Declan Parker, take you, Megan Neary, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you, to love you with everything I have within me, in good times, in bad times, and in all times in between, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life, until the very second my last breath leaves my body.”

  Megan wiped a tear from her cheek, and began, “I, Megan Neary, take you, Declan Parker, to be my husband. I promise with all my heart to love you and to be true to you, in good times and in bad times, in sickness and health, and through whatever lies along our path together, come what may. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life and throughout eternity.”

  “The rings,” the priest said.

  Atau handed Declan a simple, white gold, wedding band, which he slid gently on Megan’s finger, saying, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

  Megan took a matching wedding band from Uncle Ignacio, and slid it onto Declan’s finger, also saying, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

  “What God has joined together,” the priest declared, “let no one divide. I now pronounce you husband and wife. Please, you may kiss.”

  With joyful tears in both of their eyes, Megan and Declan joined hands and moved toward one another. They were buried in one another’s eyes, for the moment ferried away from
the rest of the world, as if God had reached down and enveloped them in His love, temporarily shielding them from the world. Standing there together, nothing existed but each other. It was with such a singular love in their hearts, a love untouched and untarnished by anything the world had or would throw their way, that they kissed for the first time as husband and wife.

  Chapter 67

  The L train slowed to a stop at the Logan Square station on the Blue Line, finally just three stops removed from the Damen station near Louis’ apartment in Bucktown. The brakes screeched and the train came to a halt. Louis spotted a contingent of Homeland Troopers and Chicago PD, fully clad in tactical gear and carrying automatic weapons, uniformly positioned along the station platform.

  The doors slid open and a few people from Louis’ car disembarked quickly as four Homeland Troopers stepped into the train car. As the doors slid closed again, Louis watched the passengers who had exited at Logan Square being carded and, in many cases, frisked. Not wanting to make eye contact with the Homeland Troopers on the train, he lowered his gaze to his iPhone, pretending to check his email.

  “ID,” he heard one of the troopers say to a passenger a few seats away.

  “Excuse me?”

  “ID, show me your ID.”

  “Okay, just a second,” the woman replied.

  Louis looked up to watch the woman’s trembling hands frantically search her purse. About ten seconds later, her hand emerged with her driver’s license. She handed it up to the trooper, who removed it from her shaking hand and scanned the photo and information.

  “Where are you heading?” he asked.

  “Home,” she replied. “Just on my way home.”

  Without a word, the trooper returned the woman’s driver’s license and moved toward Louis.

  “ID,” he said in the same cold tone as before.

  “Here,” Louis said, handing the trooper his driver’s license.

  After reviewing the license, the trooper looked down at Louis, who was looking directly into the trooper’s eyes, and asked, “Where are you headed?”

  “Home.”

  “Where’s your stop?”

  “Damen.”

  “Are you armed?”

  “No.”

  “Stand up and step out into the aisle.”

  “Why?”

  Another trooper approached and Louis slowly stood up from his seat and stepped into the aisle.

  “Put your hands on your head and spread your legs.”

  Louis obliged and the trooper frisked him, slowly and deliberately, from his calves to his upper torso.

  “Here,” the trooper said handing the driver’s license back to Louis. “You’re clear.”

  Louis took his license back and stood for second in the aisle as the trooper made his way to another passenger a few seats behind him. A few minutes later, the train pulled into the California station and came to a stop. The doors again slid open and the Homeland Troopers exited. Looking out the window as the doors closed again, Louis caught sight of a man and woman in their late-twenties or early-thirties being escorted, in handcuffs, along the platform by two Homeland Troopers.

  The scene was the same at each of the remaining L stops. At Damen, Louis quickly exited the train, again showed his driver’s license to a Chicago Police Officer stationed at the end of the platform and again answered questions about his destination. Finally making it back to his apartment just before the curfew went into effect, Louis was exhausted. He ate some pasta from a box, took a quick shower, and checked his email from his home laptop. Finding Megan’s response, Louis forwarded it to Kevin’s email and, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, finally went to bed.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, Louis awoke to something that sounded like scraping near his front door. He groggily stepped out of bed, picked up a golf club he kept nearby, and walked cautiously into the living room.

  The front door burst open and three men, each wearing a ski mask and carrying a police style baton, burst through. Louis startled, then, instinctively, swung the golf club at the closest of the three, hitting him on the arm. Within seconds, Louis felt a streaking pain on his left side, as another of the men delivered a blow with his hard black baton. The blow caused Louis to fold over and he was quickly set upon by all three men, each bringing their batons viciously down on his head and back, until he finally fell to the floor.

  Two of the men headed for the front door. The third, still standing over Louis’ badly beaten and bleeding body, leaned over and lifted up his head by grabbing a handful of his hair with one hand. Raising Louis off the floor slightly, the man said, “John Bleeker sends his regards.” Still holding Louis by the hair, the man reared back and swung the baton in his other hand as hard as he could, striking Louis squarely in the ribs on the left side of his body. His body jerked sideways and he fell again to the floor, desperately straining for a breath.

  The man took Louis’ passport out of his jacket pocket, dropped it on the floor next to him, and walked out the front door behind the other two assailants, leaving it open.

  _______________________

  Evan and Jessica left the house in Denton at sunrise, the trunk of her father’s car loaded with clothes, food and water for the drive to the lake house. They drove slowly, cautiously, out of the neighborhood and back out onto the main road, near the grocery store parking lot where they’d left Al Rawlins pickup truck.

  “The truck is still there,” Jessica said.

  “Good. That probably means nobody’s thought to see who it belongs to. There’s no line at the gas station yet. Let’s stop and fill up. Who knows what we’ll find once we get out away from the city. Your dad had a couple five-gallon gas cans in the garage. I’ll fill those up too.”

  “Wow,” Jessica responded looking at the gas station billboard. “It’s $10.89 a gallon for regular unleaded.”

  “And that’s if we’re lucky enough for them to have any to sell.”

  They pulled into the gas station, where, given the early hour of the day, there were only a few other cars filling up. Jessica gave Evan some of the cash she’d gotten from her parents’ house, which was nearly $1,000.00, and Evan went inside to pay.

  Jessica sat in the car, looking at everything around her and remembering what it had been like just weeks earlier. She took a few moments to think back on her childhood, growing up in Denton in the very same house where they’d buried her parents the day before. She thought about her brother and hoped with all her heart that he was out there somewhere, still alive. Sitting in the car, while Evan filled up as quickly as he could in order to avoid becoming a tempting robbery target, Jessica realized she’d very likely never see her home again. Everything and everyone she’d ever known, except Evan, she was saying goodbye to. Evan was heading toward his home, toward his family, while Jessica was leaving hers behind, forever. Despite her prior feeling that she was out of tears, the thought of leaving home forever brought more to her eyes.

  Evan hopped back into the car and said, “Are we ready?”

  Jessica wiped the tears, vowing to herself that it would be the last time she’d ever do so and replied, “Yes, let’s get you home.”

  Chapter 68

  Megan’s parents, two older brothers, and their families all arrived in Cusco the following morning, along with Tom Langham, her father’s pilot. Uncle Ignacio threw a small celebration at the main hacienda. Despite being somewhat disappointed about missing the wedding, Megan’s family was thrilled to welcome Declan into their family. Declan made arrangements with Tom to leave the following morning for the States. They were to fly into a tiny, little used, private airstrip a few miles by road from the lake house.

  That night, Declan was unable to sleep and sometime around two in the morning, he gently nudged Megan, who because of her own nerves, was only partially asleep herself.

  “Babe, are you awake?” Declan asked.

  “Yeah, I’m not having much luck sleeping tonight.”

  “I want y
ou to stay here tomorrow.”

  Megan sat up and turned on a lamp by the bed. “What do you mean? I have to go.”

  “No, you don’t. I have no idea what I’m getting into. It could be as simple as getting everyone from the lake house to the airstrip, or it could be a lot more complicated and dangerous. I can’t put you in the middle of that.”

  “Declan, you can’t go alone. I’m coming.”

  “No, you’re not. The truth is that I know the forest around the lake house like the back of my hand. Evan and I spent tons of time up there, running around and playing in those woods. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but if something does go down, if it gets sticky, I’ll be faster and better off alone. I’ve already put you in harm’s way once. You’ve had to bail on your career, your apartment, everything, for me. Now, your whole family is here and you’re safe. I’m not going to put you in danger again. I can’t take a chance on losing you.”

  “But, …”

  Declan leaned toward Megan, gently took her face in his hands, and kissed her. “You’re not going to win this argument, counselor.”

  “I’m beginning to see that. But you can’t go alone.”

  “I’m not. I’ll have Tom there with the plane and I have the Lone Ranger.”

  “The Lone Ranger?”

  “My dad’s 9mm. I had Tom tuck it away on the plane, along with a couple clips, on the way down here. He still has it.”

  “God, I pray you won’t need it.”

  “So do I, but I’ll have it just in case.”

  “I have one request,” Megan said as her eyes began to tear up.

  “As long as it isn’t you coming with me, it’s yours.”

  “Come back. Just come back to me. That’s all I ask.”

  Declan took his wife in his arms, feeling her streaming tears against his t-shirt and replied, “I’ll be back. I promise.”

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