“You have a badge hanging off your neck chain there. Why didn’t you just use that to get through the doors?” the portly cop asked. Jahnni looked at his nametag and the name Eric Craigs was pinned to his chest pocket. She knew these were the same two that had followed them earlier, but they didn’t seem to recognize her and Mr. Tropopoulis. Her eyes roamed down at his hand and she noticed a big red swatch of swollen skin with teeth marks embedded in it. She realized that if he did recognize her, and that she was the one who bit him, he may not take them to their boss at all. He may have his own idea of justice. She swallowed and calmed her voice before she spoke.
“Oh... well... I tried, but there must be some kind of lockdown or maybe the computers are down? I, uh, can’t get it to work anymore,” she mumbled.
The big guy grabbed his radio, or rather SAT phone, now that she knew what it was. He hit a few keys and after a brief wait, spoke into it. “Boss, Craigs here.”
Jahnni was thinking that he probably failed the Police Academy a few times before he finally made it, if he made it. She couldn’t imagine him flipping over that tall barricade that you see them climbing over in movies about the academy. In fact, she wasn’t all that convinced that he was a real cop. He seemed more like a mob boss than a civil servant.
“Go ahead Craigs... please tell me you have something for me,” the voice answered.
“Ya, uh, well we have a lady with a Port badge and her grandfather. We haven’t been able to find those other people. They must have figured a way out, and... we haven’t found that John guy... yet,” Craigs reported.
“Bring them to me,” the voice at the other end demanded.
“You got it boss. We are at the central elevator downstairs, below you.”
They walked a little way, and then stood by an elevator door. She glanced up at the camera, wondering who was watching them. Jahnni turned to keep her head facing the other direction. The elevator door light turned green, seemingly all by itself, but Jahnni knew they were being watched on the camera that faced the elevator door and that they were scanned in remotely. They were pushed and nudged into the elevator, probably for the sole purpose of being bullied. By the look on their captor’s faces, she could tell it made them feel important to bully a lady and her ‘grandpa.’ She felt the elevator going up and her stomach lurched, trepidation replacing hunger. She was trapped in this tin box with these two bullies. Suddenly, a raw sense of protectiveness melted over her when she looked at Mr. Tropopoulis. She leaned toward him gently, and smiled when he looked up. She wanted him to feel safe, even if she wasn’t sure they were. He smiled at her, his head held high and confident like he was trying to make her feel safe. They rode the rest of the way up, both slightly smiling the angst away.
After exiting the elevator, they stood in the hallway near the main office, the Port of Portland PDX office. She glanced out the tinted one-way window that was in front of them, and saw very official looking people milling around the mezzanine and lobby areas below them. From where she was, she could see over the tops of the backs of all the ticket counters and out onto the roadway too. That was the passenger drop-off area. FBI, TSA, Homeland Security, Port Police, and even guys in yellow jumpsuits. What is going on? She wondered. The upstairs offices were fronted by a wide 180-degree arced one-way window spanning the entire length of the offices. She knew that they would still be able to see out, but no one could see back through the windows at them. Red, blue, and yellow flashing lights were everywhere, bouncing their vibrant warnings into the airport through the tall glass windows that overlooked the curbside.
She felt a big thud in her chest at the sight of it all. This is really one of those things we all trained for, but hoped would never happen. I am in the middle of it, and I don’t even know what ‘it’ is. Her heart started to pick up speed again and her face began to feel the damp chill that moistened her warm face. She didn’t see a way out and felt like a trapped animal in a small cage.
The office door dinged as the four of them went in. It sounded more like the chime you heard when a someone walked into a clothing store, letting the employees know they had a customer. Along one whole wall to the right and forward, were systems with large monitors. They were obviously security cameras, congregated among the desks, with computers and various equipment. One person sat studying them, without looking up even though he could not help but hear them come in. Buttons and switches were being punched and twisted. One camera was trained exactly on the front of the fountain. Another was zeroed in on the back of the of it. Police dogs were sniffing every square inch of the area the fountain was in, but the dogs didn’t seem to be interested in stopping to warn their partners of anything. Jahnni was still perplexed about the involvement of the fountain. It’s just a bunch of concrete blocks and water! What was the big deal? she asked herself. She thought of the Cart Man and stories he had told her about something that included the fountain but nothing specific was coming to mind to explain the intense interest that she was seeing. She came back to the present when she felt Craigs grab her arm. Then he pushed her forward.
Benson grabbed Mr. Tropopoulis’s arm and pushed him also, standing them to face another door connected to this office. They knocked and waited for an invitation to enter. Craigs entered first with Jahnni and Benson pushed Mr. Tropopoulis in next.
The man behind the desk stared at everyone, his mouth turned down in a large frown. He then stood, walked around the desk with his hands in his pockets and sauntered over to the four of them. Jahnni stood icily still. Wait... this is the Port Manager’s Office. Does he have the power to fire me right here and now? Should I try to explain? But, what would I say? Where should I start? She tried to gather all the information she had so far from the beginning of all this, this... this... whatever this is. Her mind was jumbled and she couldn’t get her thoughts to line up in any kind of comprehensible order. Should I talk first and tell him to let me explain?
Wait a minute, this is a good thing, she told herself. Finally, finally! I can explain this whole debacle to someone who will understand and this will be all over. We’re safe!
She turned to tell Mr. Tropopoulis that everything was going to be fine. It was just one big misunderstanding with these two... these... Then she saw that Mr. Tropopoulis just stood there staring right at the airport manager.
“Well, hello Arnie,” the airport manager said mockingly, then raised his eyebrows as if he was waiting to be acknowledged.
Chapter 15
You Must Be Crazy
Mr. Tropopoulis nodded his head slightly at an angle and returned the greeting. “Hello. Why you bring me and nice Janie here to this place?”
He didn’t answer him right away. Jahnni looked at his Port badge because she couldn’t remember his name. She had seen him at Port Security meetings for years but her mind was solid stone, unthinking, frozen like an ice block. She even saw his face in the monthly newsletters. But his name escaped her at this very moment. His name is... as she squinted to read the moving display... is... Perry. Mr. Perry...? Of course, Prattle, Perry Prattle. How did I draw a blank on that? Wait, how does he know Mr. Tropopoulis? She wondered, looking back and forth between the two of them.
Perry walked 3 steps to a table. Jahnni and Mr. Tropopoulis followed him with their eyes. She gasped. The Brown Plaid Bag! But? How did he get it? Which, whose bag was that? Huh?
He opened it slowly and then turned to look at Mr. Tropopoulis. “Where is it?” he asked him.
“Where is what?” Mr. Tropopoulis asked in return with innocent looking raised eyebrows.
“Come on Arnie! After all this time, I know you have it. Why else would you be traveling to San Fran during this very timely couple of days? Who were you going to pass it to? I’ve been watching the flights, looking for you. Just in case, of course. I had you placed on the secondary screening list that requires extra clearance. More importantly, I put you on a level that would give me an alert about the person the airline was attempting to check in. How was secu
rity? Extensive?” Perry laughed.
Jahnni could not make the puzzle pieces fit in any kind of picture. She was more confused now than a couple minutes ago, when she began to assume that they would be safe now. She turned to Craigs, the Port cop who was squeezing her arm even harder now, like it would squish the information Perry wanted, right up and out of the top of her head. She twisted away and said between her teeth, “Let me go! You big... BISON!”
The Port Manager, Perry, nodded to Craigs that it was okay to let loose now.
“What is happening here? You know each other? Why are we here? I am so confused!” Jahnni breathed out as she turned her head back and stared into Perry Prattles eyes.
Perry turned to the large flat screen on the wall and clicked the remote that was in his hand. He glanced at Mr. Tropopoulis without moving his head, and then looked back at the large TV that began playing what appeared to be a recording of the 6:00 news from a few days ago. In fact, Jahnni recognized this broadcast. She slowly stepped closer to Mr. Tropopoulis. He was still standing there all stoic; just a small smile on his lips. She thought he still looked so well-groomed for all they had been through. His hair was still slicked back in place. His shoes barely had a scuff on them except for small smudges on the toe’s tips from the brief crawling on the rubber bag belt. She had spent so much time today with him that she even forgot he walked with a slight little shoulder tic. I love this little guy, she thought. What a nice man. Then the voice of the KATU News Anchor brought her mind back to the moment. Perry turned up the volume on the video.
“Yes, you heard it right folks. The winner of the Portland Water Festival’s purified water contest is... an anonymous person! Every one of the 47 entrants brought with them a sample of their most recent thirst quencher for testing. They were all tested for over 182 different water contaminants. Some are organic compounds; some are inorganic and believe it or not, even things that go bump in the night. Well, at least wiggle day and night! Oh please! Test away folks,” she announced as she shivered. “All the samples that were tested came back with unbelievable scores. Consider this... only one rated so pure, it won the Blue Ribbon. But officials don’t know who to congratulate! He or she left instructions saying, and I quote, ‘I just want everyone to know... it can be done.’ Then finished his note with, ‘If I win, I will attend the San Francisco Water Festival for the big reveal.’ Apparently, he left a secret code on the message that was left with the container for the judges that will confirm his identity in San Francisco... as the... wateristas?”
The co-anchor looked to her in mock confusion. “Is that what you’d call these... water purifier people?” she chortled. “And where do these water aficionados go from here?”
“Well,” she answered, “the top winners from all over the nation are headed to San Francisco for this weekend’s Bay Area Water Works Days. You know, I shouldn’t be presumptuous, the mystery person could be a her, not necessarily a him.”
The co-anchor then looked to the anchor and said, “True. Sounds like this anonymous water master could change life across the globe! You know, I think they could be called wateristas, like a barista is for coffee? Water-tenders? Water-purifiers? Hmmm... Up next... Have you ever wondered...”
Then another news feed was spliced in saying, “City of Portland Development Services is asking the public for their help. Some thieves have broken into the offices overnight, and besides making a mess of things, escaped with some old archived city blue prints. They are not sure why they would want these outdated prints. If you or anyone you know has any information concerning these stolen blue prints, you are asked to call the Portland Police Department, at 800-555-0199 to share your information.”
Perry began walking back towards his desk, before looking at Craigs and Benson. “Well, you can scratch that plan. You guys got the wrong ones,” he said with a grimace as he glared at the two of them standing behind Jahnni and Mr. Tropopoulis.
Then Perry said matter-of-factly, almost like a side note, “Nice contest, huh, Arnie? I used my dad’s research papers. Surprised even myself! I’m astonished you or your brother didn’t enter this year. Biggest prize ever. So, where is he?”
Jahnni was now quite sure Benson and Craigs were not Portland Airport Police, but possibly armed security guards or something like that. She watched and listened as Perry continued speaking directly to his two hired goons. “You stole the ones that PDX used when they moved the airport and built over the top of the previous buried tunnels!” Then Perry added, “I specifically said I wanted the ‘original’ originals.”
They looked at each other. Benson shrugged his shoulders. “You said grab the originals, so we found the ones that were listed as the originals.”
“No, you didn’t. You got... oh never mind. How many times must I explain how this system used to work? Forget it. Arnie here can help me... or else,” he said as he turned and bore his eyes into Mr. Tropopoulis’s. “You know Arnie, no matter how thorough we searched, we could never find, or understand how this piping system could ever have done more than water the garden, or give us such a beautiful waterfall display. It is so basic, what was left buried, that it just didn’t make sense. Dead ends everywhere. No access. Just your basic plumbing. Sort of. The pipes were an odd size, but extremely useful with the basic system. All I wanted was the original blue prints. Is that so much to ask Arnie? Is it?” he asked sternly as he paced back and forth behind his desk.
He turned back to look at Mr. Tropopoulis again before continuing, “One night I sat struggling over the fact that my dad mentioned a long time ago that everything was hidden; buried; concealed. I mean, I was just a kid, really. But I knew it meant something. It dawned on me the blue prints that were handed over to the Port were specially designed to conceal the underground web that was really buried under the ones that were shown to be buried! Or rather, there was at least another level, possibly more... Who would even know? Don’t get me wrong, the simple water purification allowances make for a spectacular waterfall. But let’s be honest Arnie, we both know that you are the key to this dilemma. So where are the prints Arnie?”
Jahnni was more confused with the added information she gathered. Mr. Tropopoulis is involved? I mean, how can this quiet man have anything to do with any of this?
“Were you going to meet Zale, in San Fran Arnie?” Perry leaned forward to ask. “Is that where he lives now?”
“I really don’t know what you want from me. I no see Zale for many, many years. You have my bag right there. If I have anything to give someone, wouldn’t you find it in my suitcase?” Mr. Tropopoulis offered in a low innocent voice. “Why do you want these old things?”
Perry paced while staring down Jahnni and Mr. Tropopoulis. He stopped for a moment then slowly started speaking in a calm sing-song manner. “You do remember me, right Arnie? You aren’t so old you could have forgotten such important people in your life?”
Mr. Tropopoulis squinted his eyes like he was trying to decipher hieroglyphics, and then said, “Yes, I do.”
“I am Perry Prattle,” he said, pronouncing it Prawtlay as if he was a French Dignitary. Jahnni assumed he wanted to impress people with a French sounding name. “My dad worked with you and Zale. He was one of the original scientists that developed the water purifying process alongside good ol’ Uncle Zale. I am the head of the Port now, as you can see of course. I thought this position would allow me to freely comb the underground area once I figured out how to get down there. I knew the original development would still be there, because I just didn’t believe Zale would destroy his baby completely. I’m going to have my own blue prints developed, once I find it, match it with my father’s work, and sell the unparalleled water purification to China for more money than Bill Gates is worth. Yes, I knew this was my fate, my calling, you might say.” He stared at them with unfocused eyes.
Jahnni caught her breath and said, “This sounds like an impossible plan, Mr. Prattle,” pronouncing his name to rhyme with rattle. “You can’t just
dig up the ground under an airport.”
“No,” he offered, “not just anyone could, but the right people could be working on the plumbing for the sake of the Port. If I need to go that far, that is. I’ll just get the right people who will follow directions and shut up about it. I don’t believe there needs to be any digging... so to speak. Just access. So, the original plans would be better.” He paused to make sure he had their full attention. “And once everything is in place, I can rebuild it on a much smaller scale, and then sell everything. The Chinese like techie stuff you know. Even they didn’t have this water technology down. They’re probably still working on it using shells, sand, charcoals and hope. They still depend on chlorine, large amounts of chlorine, and we all know that isn’t a good idea. The world needs me and I plan to be their hero. Zale was way ahead of his time. Pity he got shut down and disappeared. Probably in hiding all these years from embarrassment. Right Arnie?” Perry laughed and laughed but no one else was laughing.
“If this is true, you don’t have the methods and all the scientific data, or anything yet,” Jahnni noted. “Why now? Why all this?” she asked as she waved her arm motioning to the entire airport dilemma.
“No, but I have my father’s work that is clearly documented. Each scientist worked on a different portion of the water study. And each person had a hand in the original construction. I will have more of the pieces when I have Arnie’s plans, and Zale Baptiste’s underground safe... or rather underground vault,” Perry answered like he was adding up a ‘to-do’ list.
This made Mr. Tropopoulis’s head jerk up and he asked, “Underground what?”
“Oh, so you do know about the vault, Arnie?” Perry asked. “I always wondered why my dad said no one could find Zale. No one would find his work. Then when my dad... passed, I found this odd, misshapen rock alongside his original scientific contributions to the project. Etched in it was the number eleven. I pondered this for many years. Then when I was watching the Pope on TV one day, for some reason, it all came to me! Roman. Roman numerals. It wasn’t an eleven. It was the Roman numeral two. Due, as the Italians say.”
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