Blue's Code

by James Abel

  “Good. I’d say we’re about a half-hour out on I-20. We’ll head straight there and check in on them. Molly, please be careful. I’ll explain later, but there are some very dangerous people who may be out to harm us. Do you have a friend you could stay with for a while?”

  “Dad, I’m not a kid anymore.”

  “Listen, Molly. I’m dead serious. Isn’t there anyone up there? Wait! I have an idea. Why don’t you go and stay at Nana’s for a few days? Just don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”

  “But, Dad. I’ve got classes here and things to do.”

  “Molly, I’m begging you. Please?”

  “Wow. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it. But just for a couple of days.”

  “Thank you, pumpkin. Get packed and get out of there, now! I love you.”

  “Love you too, Dad.”

  Bennings glanced at Jordan and said, “Pumpkin! You still call her pumpkin?”

  Jordan smiled and said, “Just keep your eyes on the road. We’re headed to the Varsity in downtown Atlanta.”

  CHAPTER 24

  The Varsity restaurant is near Georgia Tech, in the middle of downtown Atlanta. It’s big, taking up two city blocks crammed in between the busy streets and highways surrounding the city. With its fifties vibe and drive-up carhop service, it’s popular with both tourists and locals, especially the college crowd.

  Rather than pulling into the parking deck, the Uber driver pulled up to the entrance on the east side of the building so he’d have a quick exit back onto Spring Street. As Blue and Peanut prepared to hop out of the car, he glanced around and said, “You guys better walk straight in. Looks like they just repainted the handicapped spots along both sides.”

  He was right. The parking spaces to both sides of the restaurant’s glass entrance doors had been taped off. Blue and Peanut could smell the fresh blue paint.

  Blue thanked the driver, and she walked with Peanut between the yellow cement pillars protecting the glass entranceway from errant drivers and into the restaurant. Inside, Blue and Peanut made their way to the restaurant’s 60-foot-long service counter, chose a line to stand in, and waited to place their order behind the usual large lunch crowd. A few minutes later, it was their turn. Peanut ordered her favorite meal—a chili cheese dog and a vanilla milkshake. Blue went for the pimento cheese sandwich with fries and a Coke.

  As Blue and Peanut waited for their food, the Silverado pickup truck pulled around the side of the building where the girls had been dropped off and parked on the far side of the parking lot. The driver backed the truck into a parking space, giving him a clear view of who was coming and going from the restaurant.

  Minutes later, Bennings and Jordan pulled into the Varsity’s main parking deck and parked on the upper level. Jordan looked over at Bennings and said, “You wait here. I’ll see if I can find them.” A few minutes later, Jordan pulled out his cell phone, called Bennings, and said, “Change of plans. I could use your help in here. This place is huge.”

  “Okay. Be right there.”

  No sooner had Jordan hung up when he spotted Blue and Peanut. They were weaving their way through the lunch crowd toward the exit. By the time the girls reached the doors, Jordan, gently sliding past customers, had closed to within 20 feet of them. He watched as Blue opened the door, held it for Peanut, and then followed her outside. As the door closed behind them, Jordan saw the red truck pull out of its parking spot and move past the doors and out of sight.

  What the—I know that truck!

  It was older than the one that Taylor Riggs drove, but it had his company’s logo on the side. A few seconds later, he heard the unmistakable sound of a V-8 engine revving higher and higher, and then the squealing of tires. He charged out the restaurant door, screaming “Blue! Get back!”

  But he was a fraction of a second too late. Blue and Peanut had just walked past the cement pillars, and they were standing directly in the truck’s path. It was almost on top of them. Blue turned toward the sound of Jordan’s voice, grabbed hold of Peanut’s hand, and jumped backward, pulling Peanut with all her strength. Blue had barely cleared the pillars when Peanut’s hand was ripped from her own to the sickening sound of a loud thump. It was the sound of the cold steel of a truck’s front grill and bumper smashing into human flesh and bones. As Blue hit the ground, her hat and sunglasses falling off,, Peanut’s body was spinning through the air like a rag doll. Seconds later, it hit the pavement with a dull thud, some 20 feet away. The truck never stopped. It flew out onto Spring Street and quickly disappeared.

  As Jordan ran toward Blue, Bennings spotted him through a crowd of onlookers. He pushed past them and ran outside. He saw Jordan tending to Blue, and then spotted Peanut’s crumpled body on the other side of the parking lot. He ran over, knelt beside her, and placed two fingers on her wrist, feeling for a pulse. But he knew what death looked like, and all signs of life had already left her shattered little body. He gently closed her eyes as a bystander ran up to help.

  Bennings looked at the bystander and said, “Please, get me a coat, a blanket—something to cover her. She’s gone.” Bennings’s head dropped to his chest, and a tear fell to the ground.

  Spectators filled the doorway as Jordan held Blue’s head in his lap and said, “Blue, Blue, are you alright? It’s me, Jordan.”

  Blue’s eyes blinked open. Dazed and disoriented, she tried to sit up. Jordan put his arm around her shoulders to help her and again he asked, “Blue, are you alright?”

  Blue’s eyes came into focus, and she looked at Jordan and said, “Uh, yes, I think so. What? Oh my God, where’s Peanut! Where’s Peanut?”

  Jordan looked over and saw Bennings covering Peanut with a blanket. Their eyes met, and Bennings shook his head. Jordan turned back to Blue and said, “I’m so sorry. She’s gone.”

  “No, no, she can’t be!” Blue struggled to her feet and tried to break free as Jordan held her and said, “Please, please don’t.”

  Blue pulled away and staggered across the parking lot. When she reached Bennings, he tried to shield her from Peanut’s body, but she screamed, “No! I have to see her.” She ripped free of Bennings’s hold. With trembling hands, she knelt next to Peanut and slowly pulled back the blanket. Her body was shattered, but her face looked like that of a sleeping child—one lost in a peaceful dream. Blue, her body now convulsing and tears pouring down her cheeks, said, “Peanut, I’m so sorry. I was supposed to protect you. Please, please, can you ever forgive me?”

  Jordan walked over to Blue, knelt down, put his arm around her, and said, “Blue, it’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”

  She turned to him and yelled, “No! No, I didn’t. I’m the one who put her in harm’s way.” Then Blue buried her head in Jordan’s shoulder and cried. As Bennings pulled the blanket back up over Peanut’s face, sirens could be heard in the distance.

  CHAPTER 25

  Blue was still answering questions for the investigating officer when Peanut’s body was being loaded into the back of a coroner’s van. Behind the police tape, local camera crews were milling around, searching for eyewitnesses among the crowd. Bennings and Jordan, having given their statements to police earlier, watched from a distance.

  Bennings, seeing the coroner’s van pull out, asked, “Now what? We both know who’s responsible, and we can’t do a damned thing about it. What about Blue? Her own fucking mother just tried to kill her.”

  Jordan said, “Yeah, and there’s more to it than that.”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t know if you heard what I told the officer, but the truck that hit Peanut had Taylor Riggs’s company logo on it. I saw that same truck on the news coverage from the protest that Riggs helped us to orchestrate out at Warring Pharmaceuticals. It was Eddie’s truck—Riggs’s goofy friend. He’s the guy who pulled Heather Warring’s effigy out from the back of that truck and set it on fire.”

  Bennings inhaled deeply,
then exhaled, and said, “That bitch puts out a hit out on her own daughter, and then sets up Eddie and his radical gun-loving friends to take the fall. I can already hear the news coverage.”

  “Yup. And since dead men tell no tales, you know that when they find that truck, they’re gonna find Eddie’s body behind the wheel.”

  Neither man said anything for a couple of minutes. Then Jordan looked at Bennings and said, “You know, I don’t think that even Heather Warring could have pulled this off without some outside help.”

  Bennings nodded and said, “I was thinking the same thing.”

  Jordan looked at Bennings and asked, “Where does that put us? Are we next?”

  Bennings’s face suddenly lit up, and he said, “Maybe not. Come here, and follow my lead.”

  Jordan watched as Bennings made a beeline toward Brent Keaster and a GNN camera crew.

  Oh shit. Here we go! Jordan thought.

  Keaster had just cut short an interview with a tourist who claimed he saw the whole thing when Bennings approached him and said, “Hey, you, Mr. GNN! You want a real eyewitness? If you do, he’s right over there!” as he pointed to Jordan.

  Bennings continued, “He’s a good friend of Jessie Warring, and he’s the one who saved her life. In fact, I think it might have been the governor herself who sent him out here to protect Jessie after learning that someone was going to try to murder her daughter.”

  Jordan almost swallowed his tongue as Keaster pivoted toward him and waved over his camera crew. With lights flashing in Jordan’s face, Keaster looked at the camera and said, “We’re back again live at the Varsity in downtown Atlanta. I’ve just been informed that this man is an eye-witness to this tragedy, and he saved Jessie Warring’s life.”

  Then sticking a microphone in Jordan’s face, he asked, “Sir, can you tell us what happened here today?”

  Throwing Bennings a look, Jordan said, “Yeah, I guess so. A faded red truck, a Chevy I think, came flying down the side of the building, aiming directly at… um Jessie and Peanut.”

  “The deceased’s name is Peanut?”

  Damn.

  “No, that was her nickname. She and Jessie were good friends. When I saw the truck, I yelled out. Jessie turned and jumped behind the cement pillars near the doorway as the truck flew by. She tried to pull Peanut back to safety, but the truck, well, you know what happened after that.”

  “Do you think this was an accident, or an intentional attempt to inflict harm?”

  “Oh, it was definitely intentional.”

  “I’ve been told that you were asked by the governor to come here to protect Jessie—something to do with death threats she had received. Is that true?”

  Jordan glanced over at Bennings who was off camera and saw him mouthing “yes.”

  Jordan looked back at Keaster and said, “No. I was asked to come here, but not by the governor. I’ve never met her. I’ve never even talked to her.”

  “Then who asked you?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Well, can you at least tell us what they said?”

  Jordan hesitated, but he saw Bennings violently nodding his head and egging him on.

  At that point, Jordan took a deep breath and gave in to Bennings’s prods.

  “Actually, I will tell you. Someone very close to Jessie called me and said that she was in extreme danger, that the Deep State wanted her terminated, and then they asked me to help.”

  “The Deep State? You don’t really believe that. Do you?”

  With Bennings flashing a smile and giving him a big thumbs up, Jordan looked right into the camera and said, “You’re damn right I do. The Deep State is real, and they are in the process of destroying this entire country. Now are you finished?”

  “Just about. I didn’t catch your name.”

  “That’s because you didn’t ask. My name is Jordan Nichols, and if you’re not done yet, I sure as hell am.”

  As Jordan turned and walked away, the audience watching Keaster’s broadcast in the comfort of their homes heard him wrap up by saying, “Obviously, Mr. Nichols is a bit disoriented, perhaps he’s still in a deep state of shock. I may not know everything, but I doubt that the Deep State drives old pickup trucks.”

  Keaster suddenly adjusted his earbud and said, “In fact, wait a second. I’ve just been told that the police have located the truck involved in today’s hit and run. It was found on a rural road about 15 miles out of town. The driver was found dead from a self-inflicted gun-shot wound. In the coming days, I’m sure we will find out why he would have wanted to do such a horrible thing. And while we at GNN never speculate, one can’t help but wonder if it was indeed a right-wing extremist group that perpetrated this terrible act. Now, back to the studio.”

  Jordan walked over to Bennings and asked, “What the fuck was that all about? You just had me sign my own death warrant on national TV!”

  “No, I’m pretty sure I did just the opposite.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Question! Do you think that Blue will be willing to leave here with us tonight, and not attend Peanut’s funeral?”

  “No way.”

  “Of course not! Which means that we’ve already lost our only chance to take Blue with us and sneak out of Dodge. I guarantee that Heather Warring is on her way here, right now!”

  “What did my little interview have to do with any of that?”

  “It bought us time, especially the part about the Deep State. The whole world is about to hear that some right-wing redneck killed Peanut and tried to kill Blue, and now he’s dead. So, thanks to your little crazy man statement about the Deep State, if Blue or either of us get killed, you’re not gonna look so crazy, are you? The way I see it, the bad guys now have to wait a while before they kill us—at least until things calm down a bit.”

  “Thank you. I feel so much better now. I’m alive and crazy, rather than dead and validated.”

  “Something like that… but stop complaining. After the funeral, we’ll figure out a way to grab Blue and head to my safe house. From there, we’ll plan our next move.”

  “Did you just say ‘my safe house’?”

  “Of course. When you work undercover for over 10 years breaking up international drug rings, it pretty much goes with the territory.”

  “Yeah, I guess it would.”

  A chopper could be heard approaching from a distance. Bennings looked out beyond the crime scene and saw that the police had West Street blocked off. He looked at Jordan and asked, “You wanna stick around? Looks like the gov is about to land and give her little girl a big hug and shed some fake tears for the cameras.”

  Jordan nodded and said, “You know what, I do. I want to look her in the eye and give her a chance to thank me on national TV.”

  Bennings smiled and asked, “I wonder if she’ll ask you about the Deep State?”

  “Shut up. Just shut the hell up.”

  CHAPTER 26

  It was another beautiful fall day when Peanut was laid to rest. Heather Warring, taking advantage of the photo op, had arranged to have her buried at noon with as much pomp and circumstance as one can bring to the death of an unknown orphan. The cemetery chosen was Memory Hill in Milledgeville. It’s on the National Register of Historic Places and is the eternal home to many of Georgia’s antebellum and post-antebellum legislators as well as author Flannery O’Connor and the University of Georgia’s first football coach.

  The service was held at the gravesite, providing the convenience of one-stop shopping for the press. In fact, there were almost as many reporters and cameramen there as mourners, in spite of the fact that Heather Warring trotted out plenty of orphans from the Atlanta WWA foster home and state Senators and Congressmen. In reality, the only people truly mourning Peanut’s death that day were Blue, Jordan, and Bennings.

  When the service concluded, Heather Warring remained by the grave, talking to reporters and posing for pictures. State troopers and several secret service agents stood
in the background watching. The situation unfolded exactly how Bennings and Jordan had anticipated.

  As her mother talked to the press, Blue walked with Travis toward the family limo, which was idling nearby. Jordan and Bennings walked behind them, keeping a respectful distance. When Travis opened the door for Blue, Jordan and Bennings pulled their Glocks out from under their suit jackets and rushed the car. Jordan shoved Blue into the backseat and jumped in beside her. Bennings yanked Travis away from the car door and punched him in the stomach. With Travis buckled over in pain, Bennings ran around to the driver’s side, jumped in, and took off down the road. As Travis lay on the ground, he watched the car peel away—and smiled. The fake kidnapping had been perfectly executed. Travis had worked it out with Jordan the day before over lunch at Bully’s.

  Inside the car, Jordan yelled, “Go. Go. Go!” as Bennings flew down the street. Looking back through the rear window, Jordan saw the state police run to their cars and take up pursuit as the secret service men in attendance pulled out their cell phones.

  Jordan, staying focused on the rear window said, “Dude, we’ve got maybe three or four minutes max before they’ve got eyes in the sky. After that, we’re screwed.” Then, turning to Blue, Jordan said, “Remember, if this goes bad, you’ve been kidnapped. You got that?”

  Jordan’s harsh tone startled Blue, and the magnitude of what had just occurred hit her. She nodded her head and said, “Yes, sir.”

  As Bennings slid through a hard right turn onto RT 24, the tires squealed, and Jordan crashed against Blue in the backseat. Bennings slammed the pedal to the floor and yelled, “They’re gonna catch us within a couple of miles, so I sure as shit hope he’s there!”

  “He will be,” Jordan said.

  Bennings saw the pickup truck at a crossroad ahead and said, “Thank you, sweet Jesus, I see him.”

  As soon as the limo flew through the intersection, Taylor Riggs pulled his truck and landscape trailer across the road and stopped. Inside the truck, Riggs reached down and pulled the hood release. Then he jumped out, popped the hood, and yanked off the radiator hose he had loosened earlier that morning.