“You have my permission to kick his ass for telling such a bold-faced lie.”
Ted did what he was told. The man, who had enough blubber and facial hair to pass for a grizzly bear, stumbled and fell. Ted gave him another kick, and he sprawled forward. None of his people offered to help him.
“Please, God, don’t let that man be one of those men the Prophet turns his celestial wives over to when he tires of them,” Jack muttered.
Harry stood at the open door watching as the group of men and boys straggled into the worship center. He turned on every light switch he could find. The huge room was suddenly flooded with light. The congregants blinked at the blinding glare. Jack motioned to the rows and rows of metal chairs.
“Sit! Fold your hands. Do not move. Everyone under twenty-one years of age, sit to your left. Those of you who are older, sit to the right. You, Prophet, you sit up here, front and center. Pretend you’re preaching to your people. That’s good, sit right there under that ugly picture of yourself,” Jack ordered.
“Espinosa, you getting all this?”
“You know it! I’d like a couple of the girls in here. I’m thinking Kathryn and maybe Alexis.”
“That’ll work. We’ll hold the fort while you fetch them.”
“Ted, I want you to check out the baby building. You can take some shots yourself and send them on. Keep track of the housemother,” Jack said.
Then it was just Jack and Harry in the room with the men and boys.
Jack’s phone vibrated. It was Nikki. “Tell them all except for the young ones to strip naked. Toss their clothes outside. I’m on my way to the Prophet’s house. I’m going to need your help. Can Harry handle things there on his own?”
“Surely you jest. Be there in a few minutes.”
Jack whispered to Harry, who grinned. “I’ll call you if I need you.”
Jack was at the door when he heard Harry say, “Everyone on their feet. That’s good. Now strip!”
Chapter 18
Annie, Nikki, Isabelle, and Yoko led the women into a huge room that was neat and tidy. Blinding overhead lighting suddenly came to life.
“I wonder who pays the electric bill way out here in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t see any poles or wires on the way in,” Annie said as she looked around at the women who were clustered together.
“Generators,” Nikki said. “That has to mean propane. I guess they have it delivered. So much for backward living. I’m thinking these people only pretend to be from the Dark Ages when it suits them. Look, I have to hit the Prophet’s house and see what I can do over there. Yoko, you come with me. Annie, you and Isabelle take over here. Call me if there’s a problem. By the way, Annie, call me immediately if you hear from Avery Snowden. His last call said his people would be here sometime around ten. I don’t know what the plan is, so run with it if he shows up. Ted or Espinosa can open the gates.”
Within seconds, both Nikki and Yoko were sprinting across the compound toward the Prophet’s house. Jack caught up with them just as they bounded up the two steps that led to a wide front porch.
The lights were already on when Jack slammed the door behind him. “Wow!” was all he could think of to say. Nikki and Yoko echoed his sentiments.
“Guess the Prophet doesn’t believe in prairie living. This says to me the Prophet indulges himself,” Yoko said, looking around at the costly furnishings.
“Some big bucks went into decorating this place. I know furniture,” Nikki said, “and that couch and chairs had to set him back about fifty grand. That’s an oriental carpet. Who knew prairie people even knew about carpets, much less oriental. And a seventy-six-inch high def TV. There must be a satellite dish outside. Probably brings in over two hundred channels. Wonder if he invites the others to watch sports with him,” she added, a distasteful expression on her face.
“Check this out,” Jack said, motioning to a shelf that held stacks of CDs. “Five bucks says the Prophet has a porn library. Ah, yes, Debbie Does Dallas. Peaches and Cream. I think Debbie is Peaches. Peaches must be her nom de plume.”
“Jack! We don’t have time for this! Come on, we have to find that guy’s study or office. The place where he does all his dirty dealings,” Nikki said.
“Here it is!” Yoko shouted as she looked around at an array of electronic equipment that rivaled what Charles had on Big Pine Mountain. “This must be a bigger operation than we thought it was.”
Nikki flexed her fingers. “I’ll take the computer. It’s a given that it is password-protected. I’ll try and see if I can crack it. If not, you’ll have to squeeze it out of him, Jack. Yoko, start going through the files, the drawers, and the closets. We need a list of every person in this compound. All the information you can gather up to take with us. If I can’t crack the password, then we have to take the computer with us. And, this is really important, find the birth and death certificates. That’s going to be crucial.”
Jack walked back out to the main room. The log-cabin walls were adorned with colorful Chagalls. A fire was blazing brightly in the huge fieldstone fireplace. The mantel held framed photographs of the Prophet with various women in wedding dresses. Jack counted thirty-seven framed photographs. Above the mantel was a huge oil painting of the Prophet himself in a tuxedo, sitting on a throne. The only thing missing was a jeweled crown. A few trees in full foliage stretched almost to the ceiling. Several ferns and other bushy green plants were scattered about the huge room. They looked well tended. All in all, it was a pleasant, cozy room, as opposed to the dreary ambience of the other buildings in the compound.
Jack walked down a short hallway. “Girls! Girls! You have to come and check this out. Wooeee!” Jack said as he held open the door to the bedroom so Nikki and Yoko could see what he was seeing. “Think harem, and this is it!”
Yards and yards of gauze adorned the huge four-poster. Gossamer hangings decorated the windows. The smell of incense was so powerful, Nikki sneezed.
Above the bed was another painting of the Prophet but this time he was naked as a jaybird, all his attributes, or lack thereof, showing clearly.
“I’m thinking he was thinking he had a rocket there. Or maybe a missile.” Yoko burst out laughing as she jumped up on the bed and reached for the painting. She had the back off the gilt frame, and within seconds, the canvas rolled neatly. “I think we should fly this on the flagpole. At half-mast. I’m going to call over to the worship house and have them send someone to run this up the flagpole.”
“Go for it,” Nikki said as she headed back to the computer room.
Even from where they were standing, both Jack and Yoko could hear the furious sound of the clicking keys of the computer.
“I was right, Jack,” Nikki called, “this is password-protected. Are you finding anything?”
“The guy is one sick bastard!” Jack said as he opened and shut drawers. “We need to set fire to that shrine to himself. I’ll call Harry. There’s a book here dated 1990. It has a list of names. It looks to me like there are only a handful of first names and just an initial for a last name. There are nineteen women named Julia, twenty-three named Mary, and forty-four named Sara. It goes on like that. There are all kinds of symbols and markings next to the names. It must be some kind of code.” He turned away after Harry answered his phone. “Tell his highness we need the password for his computer. Don’t take no for an answer, Harry.”
While Jack waited for Harry to get back to him, he looked around and saw a pack of cigarettes in what he surmised was the bar area. Next to the cigarettes was a gold lighter engraved with a naked woman holding up her enormous breasts. He looked under the bar itself and saw a large rack holding fifty or so bottles of fine wine that he certainly couldn’t afford. He plucked a cigarette from the pack and lit it with the gold lighter. The flame almost singed his eyebrows. He tapped his foot as he waited for Harry to give him the password, but all he heard were squeals of outrage. He knew Harry was talking, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying. Just Harry being e
xtra nice, he assumed.
A sandy-haired young man opened the door and poked his head inside. It was obvious to Jack from the expression on the guy’s face that he had never been in the Prophet’s home. Jack wasn’t sure what he was seeing—awe, revulsion, fright?
Yoko bounded out to the room, the rolled-up painting in her hands. “Take the picture off the flagpole and hang this one,” she said sweetly as she unrolled it for the young man to see.
Jack thought the guy was going to faint at the sight of the picture on the canvas.
The guy, who said his name was John, turned away. “I can’t do that!”
“Sure you can,” Yoko said. “If you don’t do as I say, I will personally hang YOU from the flagpole. By your dick. What’s it going to be?”
John of the sandy hair reached for the painting as though he were reaching for a snake and backed out of the door.
“I sure hope those colors are waterproof,” Yoko said as she scampered back to join Nikki.
“Jack, you there?”
Jack tossed his unfinished cigarette into the fireplace. “Talk to me, Harry.”
“The password is salvation.”
“Is the son of a bitch still in one piece?”
“Depends on what you mean by one piece. He’s minus his four front teeth. He’s bleeding all over the place.”
Jack sighed. “Anyone look like they might revolt?”
Harry laughed. Jack thought it was the most evil sound he’d ever heard.
“Not on my watch, buddy.”
“Nik, the password is ‘salvation.’”
A minute later he heard her say, “Okay, I’m in. Hey, my phone is vibrating. Will you get it, Jack?”
Nikki’s phone glued to his ear, Jack continued to paw through the drawers of the Prophet’s massive desk as he listened to the voice on the other end of her phone. He announced himself and waited.
“Avery Snowden, Mr. Emery. I have my demolition people with me along with my caravan. My ETA is ten minutes. Will the gates be open?”
Demolition people? Caravan? Well, damn. “They’ll be open,” Jack said, ending the call.
“That was Avery Snowden, and he said his ETA is ten minutes and he has his demolition people with him. Nik, did you hear what I just said?”
“Hmmm. I guess Annie won’t need her hellfire missiles after all.” A second later she was engrossed in what she was doing.
Jack called Harry again. “Now we need to know if those gates can be opened from here. Avery Snowden said his ETA is ten minutes. He said he has his demolition people with him. And a caravan.”
“Does it mean this is part two of the plan we don’t have?”
“Yeah, yeah, Harry, that’s what it means. Hurry up, the clock is ticking. Snowden sounded like a mean sucker, so we don’t want him and his demolition people to be kept waiting. Ditto on the caravan, whatever the hell that is.”
“Eat shit, Jack. Will it make you happy if I go after the Prophet’s bottom teeth?”
“It will make me positively giddy, old buddy. How are the others holding up?”
Harry let loose with his evil laugh again. “Believe it or not, buddy, they’re waiting for the women to rescue them.”
“You talk too much. I’ll hold on while you…uh…get me the information I need.”
Jack walked around the main room trying to find a keypad of sorts, something that would open the compound gates. He couldn’t find a thing. Shit, that had to mean he was going to have to drive down to the damn gates and open them himself. He heard a sharp whistle in his ear. “Yeah?”
“Keypad is in the linen closet, right side, second shelf.”
“How many teeth did that cost the Prophet?”
“Four more,” Harry said lazily. “Just for the record, I’m getting tired of doing your dirty work.”
“I’m going to make this up to you, Harry. Yoko said to tell you she loves you,” Jack added as he sprinted toward the bathroom. He found the keypad immediately and pressed the red button, not knowing or caring if the ten minutes was up or not.
Jack looked at the contents of the linen closet. Any woman would be proud to call it her own. Stacks of fluffy yellow and pink towels. Scented satin sheets, every color of the rainbow. Jars and jars of bath salts, perfumes, and powders. Another shelf held what looked like Frederick’s of Hollywood fashions. Everything was sized extra small or small. Of course, most thirteen-year-olds would require small clothing. One whole shelf was devoted to fragrant candles. “Linen closet my ass,” Jack muttered. This was a rape closet, pure and simple. On his walk back to where Nikki was glued to the computer, Jack found himself shaking with rage. He couldn’t ever remember being so angry.
Blind with his rage, Jack called Annie and he was like a runaway train as he told her what he had found in the linen closet. “I want you to bring those goddamn women over here and show them this linen closet. I want to know how a mother could send her daughter to this den of iniquity and still sleep at night. Never mind, Annie, I’m just venting. There’s no point, they’ve all been here at one time or another. They have to pay for this, Annie.”
“And they will, Jack, they will. What are all those flashing lights outside?”
His anger under control, Jack said, “It must be Avery Snowden and his demolition crew. And his caravan. He called a few minutes ago. Do you know anything about that, Annie?”
“He’s part of that plan we didn’t have when we first got here. It’s better than two trucks full of pumpkins, Jack. Remember, Snowden is Charles’s right-hand man, so whatever he wants to do, I say we should just let him do it.”
Jack walked out of the Prophet’s house to the center of the compound, which was now so blinding white with light he wished for sunglasses. He looked up at the canvas painting of the Prophet snapping in the brisk breeze. “Serves you right, you asshole!” he muttered.
Coming toward him was a tall man dressed the way they all were, in camo outfits. He looked to be in his midfifties and no doubt retired from some secret gung ho Black Ops organization no one knew about. He sported a military haircut and was clean-shaven. His entire toned body shrieked professional something or other. Jack thought he looked bigger than a goddamn oak tree.
The man held out his hand. “Snowden,” he said smartly.
Jack felt the urge to salute but jammed his hand in his pocket. “Emery,” he said just as smartly.
Snowden turned slightly to indicate the eight men behind him. “These are my men. We can have this place rigged in two hours. Then we’ll want another hour to go through each and every building to make sure they’re all clear before we implode them. Detonation is three hours from now. That means one o’clock to you. Does that work for you, Emery? What about those pumpkins? I wasn’t counting on the pumpkins. The de Silva woman said the pumpkins were part of the plan.”
“Yeah, yeah, she did say that. Can we get back to the pumpkins later on? How…How much explosives did you bring?”
Snowden’s eyes narrowed to slits. “If I told you that, then I’d have to kill you. If we’re finished here, Emery, my men have to get to work. You want those ambulances parked anywhere special?”
“Ah…I’m going to have to ask the…the de Silva woman.” Jack wondered if he looked as stupid as he sounded.
“Three hours,” Snowden called over his shoulder.
“I got it, three hours.” Jack was glad the guy didn’t go with that military time shit. He hated counting backward to figure the time. For some crazy reason, he felt the urge to salute again. Rather than stifle the urge, Jack walked over to the flagpole and snapped off a crisp salute to the naked man and his rocket’s red glare swaying in the breeze.
“Who the hell is that?” Snowden asked Jack as he climbed into a military-style vehicle.
“No one you want to know.” Jack laughed as he headed back to the Prophet’s house.
Chapter 19
“Jack, can you come here a minute? I have a major problem.”
Jack sprinted
into the Prophet’s workroom and looked questioningly at Nikki. “What can I do?”
Nikki raised her hands. “This is beyond my immediate capabilities with our time frame. Call Maggie and ask her to call her friend Abner Tookus. He’s that ace hacker everyone talks about. He’s…he’s helped us before. Give her the password to give to him and have him take everything off every one of these computers. We have to take them all with us. Then you have to call Lizzie and tell her not to file any of those lawsuits. There’s enough money here to set all these people up somewhere for a good long time. I’m talking food, housing, and intensive therapy, as well as counseling. Once this place implodes, there won’t be anything here for any of them except those damn pumpkins. What I’m not sure of is if one of the other sects, or places, whatever you call them, would come to rescue them if they elect to stay behind.
“Tell Harry to call the doctor these people use. That piece of garbage is not going to be left behind. He needs to be punished just like the rest of them. I’m sure he has a remote that will let him enter the gates. Have Espinosa or Ted escort him in. We don’t want him turning tail and running or calling someone before we take this place apart. Then you have to call Bert, and this is what you tell him…”
Jack walked away to make his calls. He heard Nikki shouting for Yoko. All in a day’s work. He had to admit that when it got down to the wire like this, his adrenaline kicked into high gear. He could hear the conversation between Nikki and Yoko as he followed orders.
“Yoko, gather up all these cell phones. How come this guy needs twelve restricted cell phones? I bet those women, and probably the men, the ones who live inside this compound, don’t even know how to work these. For a peaceful people—if you believe that crap he spouts—how come he needs two guns and a shotgun? Poachers? I-don’t-think-so!
“As soon as I finish what I’m doing, I’ll disconnect, and we put everything into the trunk of one of those police cruisers.
“You know what else, Yoko, this land is free and clear. They paid cash for it ten years ago. I’m going to print out a quitclaim deed and the Prophet is going to sign it over to his people. Lizzie can finesse the legalities. The last thing we have to make sure of is that Avery Snowden’s people do not in any way harm the cemetery in back of the buildings. That must remain intact. I’m not sure about this, but I think somewhere along the way the authorities are going to be doing some exhumations if they don’t get the answers they want any other way.
Under the Radar Page 16