Systematic Attrition

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  He said, “I’m young and black. That should put me in the mainstream of mostly black DC. Maybe there is some job I can do around the capital or whatever you might think I fit best in the team picture.”

  Steve perked up and said, “Yes, Agent Jones I think we can place you where you might hear something. I will relay this on to my boss and let’s see what he comes up with, if this is all right with you Brad,” as he turned his attention from Agent Jones to Brad.

  “I like it,” Brad said sitting back now against the sofa while Rocky lay his head between his knees wanting a head and ear rub. Brad then looked at his wife knowing she had something to say and waited quietly while he watched her play with her blouse.

  Sujin looked up and stared at Steve first then around the room looking at each member of the team. She said, “My agent wants a showing in New York and if these people know so much about us, then I think one or more of them would come view the showing making their presence known to us. Just a minute please,” as she reached into her pocket for her electronic dictionary and punched in some letters. “Brazen is the word I wanted to say. Even if they kill someone we would have no evidence to arrest them. Why wouldn’t they feel insulated and show us they are above the ability to be arrested.”

  Brad was always amazed at what his wife brought to the team with solid rational thinking. Simple but workable and no one even thought about not saying it was a good idea including Steve. So it was settled for the time being and now it was time to have some general conversation about the details. Billy raced upstairs with Rocky on his heels to have a smoke or three.

  For the next hour or so the Batt Team sat around talking throwing out bits and pieces of what ifs and Brad came to the conclusion these guys were serious and meant what they said. His focus now while the others talked was on the how they would murder the Speaker. What method would they use? A hired assassin or poison. He thought whatever method they used it would be clever as hell and untraceable to their group. And how big was this group. Who was the leader, if there was a leader? A hit man costs lots of money and are not reliable unless he or she was stupid to kill a political person as popular as Lance Shoalster. No, it will be done in-house and one or more of them will have to do the deed. No way, he thought could they be infiltrated. This is a closed shop of do gooders and they would not let anyone new inside their group. Now we know who the first target is, but we don’t know the when or who might be the next one. That means we will have another visit from our friend over the net. Billy must try and track this line back to its origin. He will do this on his own without saying anything and what am I leaving out of this picture, as he got up to see about his little boy who was in their bedroom having dinner from mom.

  Brad pushed through the beads and found his family rocking back and forth in his father’s old wooden rocking chair they had sent from Palm Springs last Christmas. Now he heard the creaking and groaning of the chair as Sujin rocked back and forth singing a Korean song to their son. Brad’s eyes welled up with tears and one leaked out running at first quickly and then slowed down next to his mouth. He licked the salt flavored tear and dropped to his knees putting his head in his wife’s lap stopping the rocking for a minute while he thanked the higher spirit for his good fortune. Little Brian Ki hwan Pratt was his life now and for his future he must do everything in his power to make sure the future was safe and free for all children to grow up in. Brad felt his wife’s hand stroking his blonde hair that after his operation as a monk in China six months ago, now was medium length. Sujin changed breasts with little Brian and noticed the little guy had fallen asleep. She whispered to Brad and he got up and left the room to continue his thinking with Steve.

  He found Steve upstairs looking as usual to the south down the coast. Darkness and no moon with the beginning of rain splatters on the windows made Steve feel safe and secure in his friend’s house. The wood stove gave off natural heat only the older generation knew about. The new generation had forced air either from electricity or natural gas these days. Neither one of them had the comfort of a wood burning stove.

  Brad walked up to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder and said, “How many more of these cases or operations are you going to bear up under?”

  Steve reached up with his hand and patted Brad’s hand and said, “As long as this old body and mind will continue to think and carry me from airport to airport I guess. My wife wants us to retire to Florida and I’m having a hard time arguing the point with her. As you know, my young friend, you are the best, but wisdom comes with age and not to exclude experience, but wisdom is something that just follows like a snail through one’s life. I think if I can make it till you are forty, then I will hang up the Burberry for the last time.” Brad patted his shoulder and told him it was time to eat and after dinner they would go downstairs and have a nice visit.

  It was while they were eating dinner an Asian dressed in black made his way stealthily down the creek from the Beach Loop road that passed by only a few hundred yards from Devils Kitchen. He never once glanced up at the house on the bluff. The wind was in his face and no smell would ever drift up to the house alerting its occupants to his mission. The rain would obliterate his footsteps and after burying the document that was wrapped up in a roll and stuck inside a bamboo stick in the fire pit; he would return the way he came and disappear into the black night. One job at a time and total concentration on each one made him one of the most sought after assassins groups in the world.

  His motorcycle was sitting in the State Park beach parking lot and after putting on his riding rain gear left the way he came back over highway 42 to Roseburg and then up I-5 to Eugene for a connecting flight out of Oakland back to DC where his next assignment waited for his attention.

  Billy spent the night on the computer with his friends trying unsuccessfully to track the source of the message. About the time they felt homed in on the source, a virus threatened to infect his computer. By morning, Billy was not a happy hacker. This person was good and his friends agreed as a group that they were up against a real pro. When he told Brad the next morning before the team made an early morning run and Mike worked on the cameras for the Kitchen, Brad had a deep frown on his brow, but realized Billy had been at all night and he looked it and smelled it too. Brad told him to take a rest and hit again when he had a few hours’ sleep.

  Coming up the stairs Brad found the team doing some stretching exercises and Steve looking out the windows south while a hard cold rain fell outside. Brad had an indoor outdoor temperature and humidity gauge next to the door and it was a chilly forty eight with a hundred percent humidity. The wind, by Steve’s reckoning was a steady ten miles an hour according to the grass bending at a forty five degree angle. He heard rather than saw them go out the door. The smell of coffee hit his long nose and he turned, walking to the kitchen table for a sit down next to the north side of the house. He sat there with a hot mug of coffee that the old Korean lady made for him. He loved the old wood table that reminded him of his grandmothers table where his grandfather sat never breaking an expression scaring the hell out him and his two older brothers. His reverie was broken as Sujin carrying her baby sat down giving Steve a good morning and a smile. Steve sat his cup down and nodded to Sujin that he would like to hold the baby for a minute or so. From an old man’s point of view, the scene represented the old and the new, however brief it may be, life has its cycle and the time and place can’t be chosen for the changing of the guard.

  While holding the baby he thought about his own grand kids. He loved them all and knew he didn’t see them often enough, but also realized they had their own lives to live. The idea of family left with his off spring. Both of his sons respected and listened to him whenever, on a rare occasion asked they sought his opinion about something. However, both knew his job was based on secrecy and tended to resent that fact whenever a reunion occurred. Both of his sons and their wives were liberals to a fault. He never entered into discussions of politics and sports he never t
ook any interest in, so consequently families and their doings were about all they found in common.

  Now with the smell of baby powder and newborn skin, he looked down at the next Brad Pratt. The only thing that appeared Asian was his dark black hair. The rest of his little face was just another baby face to him. Steve wanted to remember holding the little guy and for whatever time he had left would with keen interest watch the boy grow up.

  By the time he handed Brian back to Sujin his coffee was cold. She said something in Korean and the old woman came and poured him a fresh cup. Next thing he knew the old woman had some hot biscuits just out of the oven cooling. Sujin’s sister placed some butter and strawberry jam on the old wooden table for his biscuits when they cooled down.

  Down on the beach Mike was on his knees with a stick digging in the fire pit. Immediately he saw the bamboo stick just inches under the black coals of their recent fire. He wiped it off on his leg and handed it to Brad. Brad stuck in down his pants and told them let’s go for a run before we sink our teeth in the clue someone left us. They ran south and Brad led them at a fast pace. Mike stayed back and set up the cameras for future clues, if any were coming.

  An hour later, their tongues were hanging out, including Rocky; they took off their outer running clothes and down to shorts and a T- shirt made for a hot shower. Brad handed the unopened bamboo to Steve and wordlessly made for the shower.

  Steve followed then down to the basement and sat at the glass table waiting for the team to return. Billy took the opportunity to run upstairs and have a smoke or two before the revealing of the clue. Steve sat looking at the bamboo stick like it was a bomb about to go off. Mike came in about that time and spotted the stick on the table and rushed in to take his own shower after getting sand everywhere setting up the cameras.

  Sujin was in the bedroom rocking little Brian as her husband all sweaty winked at her going to the bathroom. Back from the shower he made for the hub where most of the team was waiting for him except Wendy. Wendy he knew liked to take care of her looks and wouldn’t come out until satisfied about her appearance. Steve sat there in his sport coat and open necked shirt. His legs were crossed with one foot wiggling up and down waiting for the results of the clue.

  Wendy came out apologizing for her lateness, but no one was listening to her. Brad reached for the bamboo and examined each end and stuck his little finger in one end and drew out a rolled up heavy bond paper. All knew dusting for fingerprints were unnecessary as only a complete fool would leave any trace to the owner. Brad unrolled the paper and held it with two hands and read the contents:

  Mr. Brad Pratt and team members. Here is what I promised you, but I fear by the time you read this, it will be too late. However, here is the clue: PEANUTS ARE OK, BUT TOO MUCH BREAD WILL GET YOU KILLED.

  Until the next time,

  P.A.E

  Brad placed the document on the table and watched it roll up upon itself. Not a sound was heard except a small cry out of Brad’s bedroom as the baby made the appropriate exclamation for all. Mike picked it up and placed it on the China board in the upper corner with stick pins where cork board lined one side. One by one the team members looked at it and returned to their seats waiting for the boss to say something. Steve looked at Brad and Brad returned the look as Sujin walked in having transferred the baby to her sister. She walked to the board and read the message. For a full two minutes she stood staring at the document. Then apparently satisfied, she moved to her place next to her husband.

  Brad, as expected, said, “My first impression is this. As I read it I think he is telling us two things. One that being poor is better than being rich via the peanut metaphor and the same for the bread as a too much money result in too much power.”

  Steve once again was impressed with his deductive reasoning. He said, “What is the second thing, if I might ask.”

  “Well the second thing is a reference to a park where you feed squirrels and ducks peanuts and bread. The kill site is in the park where the speaker exercises.”

  “My God you are right,” as Steve jumped and moved quickly to his room and a phone.

  Brad said, “Well gang, what is your take on this. I’ve said my thoughts and now we need to kick this around for a while.”

  Wendy chimed in and said, “I think you are dead on, no pun intended, with the interpretation and let’s concentrate on how this might happen and when.”

  Billy said, “Mike what or how would you take out a well-guarded man jogging or walking around a park in broad daylight?”

  “Billy, there are two ways it could be done. The first is by long range rifle and the second is a distraction and maybe a blow gun with a poison dart or something like that.”

  Sujin raised her eyes and nodded to her husband that she was going to speak. The team was familiar with her ways and turned silent as Sujin said, “The bamboo is used by the mystics Ninja for carrying messages thousands of years ago. What the message portends is more your more culture than mine. My guess is they or PAE has hired an assassin who if trained in the ancient ways of killing and stealth, will be very difficult to catch.”

  Brad elaborated on what his wife said, “Let’s assume that an assassin has been retained for a contract kill. I believe we are too late as the note says, but now what the hell do we do about a future hit on someone like the speaker? There are hundreds of possible victims and we can’t protect everyone who stands to the right. All of the president’s closest advisors and cabinet are dyed in the wool Republicans. Is this PAE group starting at the bottom working their way to the top of the other way around?”

  Agent Jones who had sat quietly and listened said, “We need to put some people in place and listen to the underground and current dissenters of our policies coming from the White House.”

  Brad was up now pacing around the room expecting any minute to hear from Steve the news former Speaker Lance Shoalster was murdered or collapsed while doing his morning exercises. Probably, he thought the latter as they could cover it up as a natural death rather than a hit on a prominent man. Meanwhile Billy left for a much needed nicotine injection outside with Sandy. Sujin followed him up the stairs to check on her baby while Mike moved off to the side and used his cell to call his wife telling her to pack his bags for an extended stay back east. Both Wendy and Agent Jones sat there running different scenarios through their heads. Wendy needed her laptop and went to her bedroom to get it and Rocky sat there watching people come and go looking a little bewildered.

  Steve finally returned and with a downcast look that said something had happened met Brad’s eyes telling him that indeed the former speaker was dead. Steve sat down heavily and Brad moved back and sat across from him waiting for some details. Steve with his hands folded in his lap said, “The former Speaker collapsed while fast walking and was pronounced dead on arrival at a local hospital. The FBI is on top of it and an autopsy is being performed as we speak. A dart was sticking out of his neck and of course they suspect poison. In a couple hours we should have some concrete details. Meanwhile Brad, what do you suggest we do about this very complex case? Do you think we should move our operation to Washington or what?”

  Brad leaned back and rubbed Rockies ears and head while saying, “Let’s have some breakfast and do some more thinking before we rush off without a good game plan.”

  “Yes, even though I don’t feel very hungry I know we need the time to make a plan,” Steve said quietly standing up to follow the team slowly up the stairs. Topping the stairs a good smell greeted the team. Sitting on the floor tables was fresh baked biscuits and scrambled eggs with diced ham. Hot green tea sat in two pots along with bowls of fish soup fresh from yesterday’s catch of perch off Fish Rock. An old timer regularly fished and left them in a bucket where the old Korean woman left a few dollars and filled it half way with ice at the head of the trail to the beach. Once the dogs had his smell they tolerated his coming and going.

  The team was quieter than usual. Billy was outside now after a quick
e-mail to his friends having a pre breakfast smoke playing with Sandy in the rain. After a couple of bites of eggs and a spoonful of soup Brad was lost in thought as he drank his special herbal tea for health. What now, he thought. How can we even get on the same page as this group bent on bringing down the balance of a two party system set in place more than two hundred years ago? Where do they operate from and how can we get a lead or some idea that is behind this vendetta to knock off some of the most powerful men in Washington. He got up and walked to the window staring out at the rain streaming down the glass like worms crawling across the ground. A few minutes later he put on his Gore-Tex coat and boots for a walk on the beach.

  The rest of the team finished eating and disappeared one by one down stairs. Rocky had replaced Sandy and now she was with her master on the beach. Steve sat on the sofa next to the wood stove and Mike left for home. Sujin was down in her room with the baby rocking trying to put him to sleep. The house both upstairs and downstairs was eerily quiet. However, it wasn’t long before a trail began to hopefully lead to the group of killers.

  Silent Trail

  Chapter 3

  In Washington DC a group of five men sat talking in a basement that housed the latest design from IBM mainframe computers. They were discussing the next target and the results of today’s elimination of the former speaker. All five looked pretty much alike. They were under forty and all were fit and trim, dressed nicely but conservative. Looking around the table you saw intelligence and confidence from these highly educated men. Strangely it appeared no one was a leader, but a consensus of opinion seemed to govern the group. One member said, “Our next target, I’m told is the Undersecretary of State. He’s made a fool of America in Africa lately and his past record of siding with oil rich Sudan and Nigeria is disgraceful. How say you boys?” A murmur of agreement was heard. “Well then let’s contact our man and put out the lights.”