****
Typically, if the need arose, Elliott silently and inwardly questioned the Captain on decisions. Rarely if ever did he verbalize them. That was in part to years of being a First Sgt.
But this time, Elliott wanted to take off his own bandana, and instead of lightly tapping the Captain on the chest, whack him in the head with a firm, “Are you nuts?”
Like every Slagel, the Captain got something in his mind and was sticking to it.
He forewent Containment to go to Danny, and now he was going to Robbie’s office.
Robbie wasn’t there.
When Elliott told The Captain that, he was greeted with ‘Watch the door, let me know if he’s coming.’
Huh?
“That’s an order.”
“Great.” Elliott stood by the door, while Hal positioned himself behind the computer.
“Let me see if I can recall how this program works,” Hal began to mess with the computer,
Elliott cringed. “Captain, this really is an invasion of privacy.”
“Elliott, please. This should be public knowledge.”
“It’s a murder investigation,” Hal said. “Ah, here.”
Elliott looked out the door. “He’s going to show up.”
“He’s probably sleeping somewhere.”
“No, Captain, I think . . .”
“Whoa.”
Elliott turned and looked. “What?”
“Eyes on watch.”
Elliot shook his head and returned to his watch. “What?”
Hal peered at the computer program. ‘My brother certainly ran an extensive search of fingerprints.”
“What exactly are you looking for?”
“He did.”
Elliott growled.
“Don’t make noises at me.”
“Well, you’re talking and I haven’t a clue what you are talking about.”
“Oh My God.”
“What?”
“Oh my God.”
“What? What? What? Shit. Robbie.”
“Fuck.” Hal immediately shut down the program, stood and inched away from the desk. In fact, he had just leaned against it when Robbie approached the door.
“Hey, Elliott, what’s going on?”
Elliott merely pointed back with his thumb.
Hal grinned.
“Hal.”
“Robert.”
Robbie shuddered. “You sound eerily like dad when you do that.”
“Almost as if he never left us.”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” Robbie chuckled out laying his things on his desk.
“Nothing.”
“What brings you and Elliott here?” Robbie questioned. “I thought you were going to Containment?”
“I will.”
“You haven’t yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Man,” Robbie whistled. “El’s gonna be pissed when she finds out that she didn’t know about Frank’s surgery.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“What’s up?”
“Two things,” Hal said. “One I was seeing how the murder investigation for Dad was going and two, I have the name of a man in Jordan who was a C-4 expert, you may want to run his prints if you haven’t already.”
“I didn’t run any Jordan prints. I’ll be glad to. But it won’t match.”
Hal tilted his head. “How do you know?”
“Because, Hal, the case is closed, solved.”
“How do you figure?”
“Dad told us.”
“Oh, that’s right. Ralph, the suicide bomber from the future killed him.”
“Yep.”
“So sorry. My bad.” With a slap of his hands to his thighs, Hal stepped from his leaning position. “Then I’ll let you go. If you need that name . . .”
“I’ll ask you, thanks.”
Another nod and Hal joined Elliott at the door.
“Hal? Containment.”
“On my way.” A smile, another nod, and Hal pulled the door closed stepping out into the sun with Elliott.
“I can’t believe you told your brother ‘My bad’”
“Well, he was lying. It was the best response I could drum up in an instance.”
“I understand how hard it is to believe that a suicide bomber named Ralph killed your father, but to call your brother a liar.”
Hal stopped walking. “You’re right Elliott. I was wrong. Robbie is not a liar. In fact, he was telling the truth when he said the prints wouldn’t match.”
“That’s good to hear you say.”
“Yes, know why? He already found a match to the prints.”
Elliott stumbled back a little from the shock. “Your brother found a match to the prints. The ones on the explosive.”
‘The one on the detonator, the person who built and set off the explosion.”
“He found a match and didn’t let this information out. It must be someone he knows and loves.”
“Oh, without a doubt.”
“Still.” Elliott shook his head in shock. “Why wouldn’t he tell someone?”
“Because he was as baffled as I was when I saw it.”
“Because he knew the person didn’t kill Joe?”
“No.” Hal replied. “Because he knew my father didn’t commit suicide.”
“What … what are you talking about?”
“The prints, Elliott. The ones on the detonator and timer,” Hal said. “They belonged to my father.”
****
Frank wasn’t really ever ‘out’; Dean saw no reason to put him under completely. He was sort of in a twilight sleep, and easily awoke when moved to recovery. Dean was battle weary about putting Frank to sleep. Especially since Frank had a history of having cardiac arrest on the table.
He mumbled a disgruntled ‘Fuck’ when he woke to see the cast on his arm.
“Toughest cast we could make,” Dean told him. “Sgt. Owens from Bowman called to tell you that captured soldier returned and they’re waiting for you and Hal.”
Frank stared at the cast.
“Frank. Don’t try to take that off. You may feel sore for a bit, after all you had surgery.”
“I don’t understand why I needed surgery.”
“Um, Frank the bone was sticking out?”
“So you put it back in and sewed it up.”
“Yes.”
“So why the cast?”
“The bone was broken.” Dean folded his arm. “Why all the questions.”
“I have a busy schedule and some shit on my plate.”
“Including what broke your arm?”
Frank nodded.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel fine.”
“Then if you feel up to it, you can go back. Just take it easy the rest of the day and watch that cast.”
Frank gave thumbs up and slid his legs from the table. Just as he did, the door opened.
Ellen walked in. “Hey, Dean, I was looking . . . Frank?”
“El.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I had surgery.”
“What?” Ellen asked in shock.
Dean interjected. “He broke his arm.”
“And he needed surgery.”
“Hello!” Frank lifted his good hand and dropped it. “That’s what I asked.”
Dean cleared his throat. “He had a compound fracture, pretty severe. Luckily, it was a clean break. And . . .” Dean looked at his watch. “I gotta get going. Frank, check in with me in a couple hours so I know how you’re doing.”
“Will do Dean, thanks.”
After Dean left. Ellen turned to Frank with compassion. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”
“I thought you did. Fuckin Hal was supposed to tell you. He left to tell you.”
“He didn’t. I haven’t seen him in hours.”
“Man, I feel bad.”
“Why?”
“Because our captured man ret
urned and Hal’s probably getting impatient.”
“How about I drive you, since you’re still groggy, and you can call and say you’re on the way.” Ellen suggested. “Plus, gives us time.”
“I like that.” Frank leaned down and kissed her. “Can you make the call while I get dressed?”
Ellen winked with a nod, and grabbed the phone, leaving the recovery area to make the call.
****
Hal cringed through the same message, of ‘Why didn’t you tell me my husband was in surgery asshole.” even if rephrased, he waded through the estrogen fueled hormonal rage and eventually handed the phone to Elliott. To which he was certain, Ellen changed her tone and said, “Oh hey, Elliott.”
They talked about a lot of things, from Hal’s end, and more than likely when Elliott hung up the phone, it would ring once more because Ellen would have forgotten why she called in the first place.
And it did.
Hal chuckled.
“Frank is right behind us a few miles,” Elliott said. “He asked for us to not be impatient about debriefing Jay. He has no idea we haven’t even been to Bowman yet.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
“Captain, please. Let’s not avoid this conversation,” Elliott pleaded. “You haven’t said much. Just tossed out words here and there. Am I to believe you assume your father is alive?”
“Yes. Alive. Well and living in Beginnings. Under, of course, the knowledge of my brother.”
“Robbie.”
“Yes.
“What about Frank or Jimmy?”
“I haven’t determined if they know yet.”
“But you are certain, if your father is alive, Robbie is aware.”
“Without a doubt.”
“Then why not ask him.”
“Elliott, please.” Hal scoffed. “If Robbie wanted to share that information, don’t you think he would have done so already?”
“Captain, forgive me, but I believe . . .”
“Your phone is ringing Elliott. More than likely Ellen.”
Elliott huffed. “Fine. But we will continue this conversation later.”
“Without a doubt. And some.”
“Excuse me?”
“Answer your phone.” Hal directed.
With a hard exhale, and a quick jabbing stare, Elliot retrieved his phone.
****
The secret code of ‘Knock-knock, it’s me.’ Precluded Robbie’s entrance into Danny’s office.
Danny sat with Joe, almost as if they were just kicking back and talking.
“How’s Frank?” Joe asked.
“Good. Out of surgery,” Robbie rolled up a chair. “On his way to Bowman to debrief the returning prisoner.”
“Maybe we ought to go and find out what’s said.” Joe suggested.
“Frank will tell us. Besides, we need to set up tracking differently in the Killer Baby region.”
Danny laughed. “I don’t know who the hell is going up there now to do it. They attacked Frank.”
“Because he had interaction with the toddlers that’s why. He’s fine in the suit. But we have a situation up there, without a doubt.”
“We have situation here, too.” Joe said. “Danny tell him.”
“Hal was questioning me about the invisible suits.”
“Ok.” Robbie nodded. “Does he need one?”
“No, he was questioning about the amount. Why the adding was off.”
Robbie crinkled his brow. “Why is he so curious?”
Danny shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Joe interjected. “Call it a gut instinct, paranoia perhaps. But I’m telling you, he’s suspecting I’m not dead.”
Robbie chuckled. “Dad, there’s no . . .” he stared off.
“What?”
“Fuck.” Robbie stood up. “I’ll be back.”
“What’s going on?” Joe asked.
“He was in my office wanting to talk about the investigation.”
“And?”
“Well, what if he went into my computer. I’m gonna check.” Robbie walked to the door. “If he did, he may have seen my test results, and asking about the suits. It may be time for damage control. I’ll be back.” Robbie walked out.
Danny hesitated before saying anything. “The suits. The computer. If Hal suspects, it’s gonna get ugly.”
Joe whistled and sat back. “Tell me about it.”
****
Jay looked worn, but not mistreated. He said he hadn’t had a full meal in the time frame he was held captive. He was given water to cleanse some, but was not beaten nor questioned.
“They didn’t say much,” Jay informed Hal, Frank, and Elliott.
“Did you ask why you were taken captive?” Hal asked.
“Yes, they said it was to make sure I wasn’t a threat.”
Hal rubbed his chin. “And they disclosed nothing to you.”
“Only a few spoke English, and it was broken.”
This caught Frank’s attention. “What was the language, do you know?”
“Chinese, Russian, some other language, I’m not familiar with.”
“The leader, or person in charge, do you know what language he spoke?” Frank questioned.
“He was Chinese or Korean.”
Hal exhaled, “So they definitely came from the Far East. Tell me Roberts, what did they say when they released you.”
“You may go.”
“That’s it?”
Jay nodded.
“Did you get a good look at the camp?” Hal asked.
“Only when they were bringing me in.”
“I see.”
Frank handed him a tablet. “I need you to write down everything you recall, every fine detail, even something as miniscule as where you took a piss. Ok?”
“Yes, President Slagel.”
“We’ll let you go.” Frank walked to the door, and Hal and Elliott exited the office behind him.
“What do you think?” Frank asked.
“Spot on.” Hal said. “This is what you predicted, and it happened.”
Elliott interjected. “You know what that means.”
Frank nodded. “Position troops up there just in case. We’re gonna have trouble.”
****
“We have trouble,” Sgt. Owens warned Hal as soon as he stepped into the sun and placed on his bandana.
After a quick look to Elliott, Hal wasn’t sure what the problem was, he was certain, it wasn’t good and a part of him hoping it was exciting. Trouble. Danger. Death.
“Pickles.” Owens said.
“Pickles?” Hal questioned.
“Fucking guy,” Frank said.
Hal’s mouth formed the word ‘Who’ as he turned to Frank. “What are you talking about?”
“William Pickles, the leader of Jordan is always starting trouble.
“His name is Biggles,” Hal corrected.
Frank shrugged.
Owens agreed. “He is. I don’t like him much.”
“See.” Frank pointed at Owens.
Confused, Hal faced Owens. “The leader of Jordan is starting trouble?”
“Yes. But not now,” Owens replied. “The problem is pickles.”
“Him again,” Frank shook his head once in disgust.
Hal groaned. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Well, seems Hector tried to grow cucumbers. Which have not been a successful harvest ever. Well, he got them, but they’re small.”
“Like pickles?” Hal asked.
“Yes.”
“And this is a problem how?”
“There aren’t that many, and Hector along with Mr. from Fabrics made pickles. They have them on sale, one per person.”
“Go on.”
“As you can guess people are pretty excited about having pickles again.”
“Wait.” Frank held up his hand. “Where are they selling the pickles?”
“At the Unique Boutique.”
“Excellent. See
ya.” Frank took off running.
Owens exhaled. “Hence the problem. Another person in line.”
“So they are lined up for pickles, big deal.”
“All the way around the block and getting antsy because they haven’t opened the selling door yet. And some people are getting irate about the price.”
“Which is?”
“The problem. Ten Danny Dollars per pickle.”
“Ten!” Hal barked. “They are changing ten dollars per pickle? Good God, in Beginnings market compared to old world pricing that would be 500 dollars a pickle.”
Elliott shook his head. “Your father did not want to bring back money because of this.”
“Exactly.” Hal said. “He wanted to avoid profiteering. Thank you Owens. Let’s go Elliott.”
Just as they stepped to leave, a call for Hal rang out. Hal turned. It was Jay.
Out of breath, the soldier caught up to them. “Sorry.” Jay said. “I just remembered something.”
“What is it?” Hal asked.
“It may or may not be important, but as I was writing I recalled finding something odd in the woods on the way back. It’s with my belongings.”
Elliott suggested. “How about I go there and you handle the riot.”
“Sounds good. Check back with me,” Hal said. “But I have no fear. My brother went ahead. He will be the first to stop the madness of the price.” Another shake of his head as they walked. “Ten dollars a pickle.”
****
“I’ll pay twenty!” Frank shouted. “Are they kosher, dill, or sweet?” Frank asked Hector who manned the door.
“Kosher Dill.”
“Fuckin awesome. I’ll pay twenty-five for that shit, as long as I get a big one.”
A sudden murmur of ‘Captain’s coming’ rang though the mob and Frank turned to see Hal approaching.
Hal sighed out in relief. “Frank, glad to see you up front.”
“Me, too.”
“You are handling the situation?” Hal asked.
“Absolutely. Under control.”
“Good. Good. It was outrageous,” Hal said. “Hector you understand, right?”
“What was?” Hector asked.
“Charging ten dollars a pickle.”
“Oh, yeah,” Hector nodded. “Totally wrong pricing. People want pickles, I know, the reason we set the price so high was we wanted those who really loved them to get them.”
Frank added. “People are willing to pay, too. But the price was wrong.”
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