The Keeper Returns (The Wallis Jones Series Book 3)

by Martha Carr

  There was time. He could tell Wallis all about what the key could do, later.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sergeant Leonard Kipling’s wounds were healing and he was able to move around the house on his own, even if he needed a makeshift cane and shuffled more than walked. The squad that was chasing him eventually circled back knocking on doors and they stopped at the Whiting door one afternoon just before dinner.

  Jake saw them approaching with his telescope and went to warn his father and the Sergeant. They hid the Sergeant in the safe room behind the bookcase and put Ruthie in there with him. She was too little for them to be sure she wouldn’t give them all away and it was easy enough to explain her absence by saying she was at a friend’s house for a sleepover. Peter was not as steady as Jake but he knew enough to stay close to his brother and say nothing at all.

  Mark answered the door and only one of them had come up onto his porch, flashing what looked like an official badge of some sort. The rest stood down below, gently holding their weapons in front of them. They were all dressed in white, easily hidden against the snow unless you were looking for them with a sensitive telescope from the small room at the top of the house, like Jake was doing when he saw them come over the ridge.

  The small flag with the family crest was already flying at the very top of the house, signaling that the enemy was nearby and holding off the Keeper if he was trying to approach. That was Circle training and the flag had been raised days ago just in case. Mark was not taking any chances until he was sure that Management’s squad had moved on to another territory.

  He was relieved that the flag was still up there, whipping in the wind, when Jake came to tell him that soldiers were approaching.

  Jake had spotted the patrol and quickly left his post and locked the door to the tiny room before he came down the stairs. By the time the soldiers came to the door the boys were in the middle of a video game, making a lot of noise and laughing. There was a warm pizza in front of them, some of the pieces already gone, hidden at the bottom of the trash can.

  “Can I help you gentlemen?” he asked, opening the door only far enough to show his two sons, smiling and pushing each other as they kept right on playing. “Is there something wrong?”

  “My name is Lieutenant Radford. We are tracking a fugitive who escaped across the Canadian border. Have you seen anything suspicious on your property?” Mark gauged the man’s age to be about the same as his own and he wondered where he was really from and if he had an entirely different job when he wasn’t on patrol, stalking his neighbors.

  “No, haven’t seen a thing. Is this fugitive dangerous? Should we be worried?”

  “Yes sir, he’s considered armed and dangerous and at this point desperate. If you should notice anyone, please give me a call,” he said, handing Mark a card. Mark glanced down at it, knowing that’s what anyone would normally do in a situation like this. He had been trained years ago on what to do if something like this ever happened when he had originally been with Management. No one had anticipated that he’d be using it all against them in the mountains of Montana years later.

  “I’ll be sure to call you. Are you with a Federal Agency?” he asked. It was pushing things a little but to never ask was suspicious and besides he wanted to hear how they’d explain what they were doing out here in the middle of nowhere.

  “Yes sir, we’re with the Military Police, with the U.S. Army,” he said, tapping the card.

  “Oh yeah, the MP’s,” said Mark, looking down at the card. “The fugitive is with the Army?”

  “Yes, he was a Sergeant so he’s trained with a gun and highly skilled. Be very careful.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He killed a few good men and betrayed his country,” said the Lieutenant. “We’d like to take him in alive, if possible. That’s where information from people like you could be very helpful.”

  Mark smiled at the compliment. The lieutenant was following protocol, making friendly with the locals to get information. He would shoot Mark and his entire family if necessary for the mission. “Thank you, these are good people around here. Will do.”

  Mark went to shut the door and the lieutenant held it open for a moment. Mark slowly turned back like he was annoyed but not rushed. “Was there something else?”

  “Do you mind if we take a look around your property? Make sure he’s not hiding anywhere? You have kind of a big spread.”

  “Sure, no problem. I’d prefer if you were gone by sundown though. I don’t like the idea of so many guns roaming around near the house. I have children in here, you know. But take a look. I’d like to know we’re all safe in here too.”

  “You have a basement or any exterior sheds where someone could easily gain entrance?”

  “The basement is shut tight. That’s not a problem. There’s a shed out back about thirty yards behind the house that’s full of storage. You’re welcome to take a look, we don’t lock it but someone would be hard pressed to squeeze in there. We’ve stocked it pretty full of junk.”

  “Thank you,” said the lieutenant, nodding. Mark slowly shut the door again, but this time kept looking at the group until the door was shut completely. He slowly walked away from the door like he had something ordinary to do and headed for the kitchen to get the boys something to drink.

  He knew the squad would watch the house more than search the grounds, at least at first, to see what Mark did next. A rookie mistake was to suddenly try to run and tell anyone what had just happened or watch the squad out of a window. Jake and Peter knew that too and kept right on playing their games. It would be at least a couple of hours before he would dare go check on Ruthie and Sergeant Kipling.

  The next day there were tracks in the snow all over the property from where the lieutenant and his men had tromped around looking for Sergeant Kipling. It was clear to Mark that they were making a show of doing a good job and he wondered if they were still watching him from a long way’s away.

  He went down into town for supplies and to sit around the diner to see if anyone else had met the squad. If they had, that was good news and meant that the Management team really did believe Mark’s story and that the Sergeant could be anywhere. If no one had seen a thing then Mark was targeted and they would have to keep the pennant flag flying for a lot longer.

  Any sudden change would attract attention and removing the pennant could invite disaster. If the Keeper tried to move across the glare of the snow toward the house with anyone watching he would be spotted and it was a sure bet that everyone in the house would be slaughtered, leaving no witnesses.

  Training had also taught him to set up routines that might prove useful later, no matter how much time they took up even if they never came in handy. One of them was going into the local diner on a regular basis and sitting at the counter having a chat with whoever wandered close enough for him to ask a question.

  Locals at first were a little put off by the stranger who kept smiling and engaging them in conversation but eventually they got to know him well enough to chalk it up to him being from the South. He never invited any of them up the mountain to his place but that wasn’t too unusual for these parts. People were friendly but no one thought it was a good idea to get that far into anyone’s business. The local temperament suited Mark’s purposes just fine.

  “Hey Sam. Hi Luke. How’s it going?” Mark called out as he came into the diner, stomping his feet to get rid of some of the snow before he walked across the linoleum.

  “Doing well, come sit over here with us,” said Sam. “Hey, you’re up on that ridge. You see them fellas in their fancy outdoor suits traipsing all over creation? They ‘bout near scared my wife to death talking about some fugitive and flashing badges. They come by your place?”

  Mark wanted to hug him but knew he needed to maintain the same amount of annoyance because in the end, anyone could be an operative. It didn’t matter that he was up in the mountains. After all, he had played for both sides and here he was sitting
on a stool, trying to act natural.

  “Yeah, they came by yesterday. Told me the same story and took a look around the place. Don’t think they found much, though because they left like they came and I haven’t seen them since.”

  “I heard they was staying at the B and B one town over. Millie’s sister owns the place and said they came in toting weapons and shaking off snow, making a big fuss. They said they were going to be there for a few days but she’s trying to get them to leave faster. Not good for business, all those dangerous looking weapons. One thing to have hunters around but not this.”

  “I see what you mean,” said Mark, sipping his coffee. “Hopefully, they’ll get their man and keep going. We can get back to normal peace and quiet.”

  “Amen,” said Sam, holding his mug up in a toast. “Amen.”

  Mark stayed for an hour and talked about the long winter and the price of fuel before saying he needed to go get supplies and head back up the mountain before his kids tore up the place or ate him out of house and home. Just a week ago he had trusted these people and was willing to believe that not a one of them had ever heard of Management or the Circle and didn’t care, anyway. Now, he found he wasn’t sure and he knew he never would be able to really relax again.

  As he drove up the long driveway to the house he tried to look around for signs of anyone else on his property. If the lieutenant saw him he knew he could always say he was keeping an eye out for intruders, which was true. He was also trying to make sure he didn’t see signs of a third group moving in a forward direction toward his home.

  Once he got inside he went looking for Sergeant Kipling and found him playing checkers with Ruthie in the safe room.

  “I haven’t really left this room,” said Kipling.

  “Do you think they know you’re trying to move the Keeper?” asked Mark.

  “They? You mean that squad out there? No, I don’t. I think they know something important is happening but I don’t believe they have a clue. Otherwise,” he said, covering Ruthie’s ears for a moment, “they would have burned the house down just to be sure there was no place to go,” he whispered, taking his hands down. “Your move,” he said to Ruthie, smiling.

  “King me,” she shouted in glee, smiling.

  “Aw, you’re too good. That’s like three in a row.”

  That night Mark waited till everyone was asleep and he turned on the ham radio he had set up in one of the spare bedrooms. He turned it on at least once a month and chatted with mostly old men who were retired and enjoying a hobby. They had a lot of interesting stories to tell about the lives they used to lead but nothing more than that.

  Mark was establishing another routine.

  He searched around for one of the familiar handles and found a regular in Winston-Salem, North Carolina who wanted to know how much snow Mark was getting. Weather was always a big topic with the retired set and it gave Mark an easy topic when he couldn’t think of anything to share. So much of his life wasn’t supposed to exist anymore. It could make starting conversations a little awkward.

  Just as he was about to sign off, thinking that his idea wasn’t panning out, a new voice came across the airwaves. It was a handle from Petersburg, Virginia addressing him by his handle as if they had chatted many times before that night.

  Mark had the out of date OTP by his side and waited to hear the first bit of conversation.

  The man immediately started talking about his marriage, like they had just left off a conversation. “Couldn’t have formed a more perfect union.” It was the connection. Mark kept track of the words he used. Sprinkled in the sentences that seemed to meander all over the place were the words Full, Faith and Credit. “The Creator sure knew what he was doing, in the course of things. Don’t you agree?”

  It was the request for an affirmative that he would take in the Keeper. He knew it was coming and had resigned himself to the answer. “I definitely do. If I could meet the right woman, I think I’d take the same course of action.”

  “We’ve been married just on forty-five years this coming May third with three kids and four grandkids. It’s a good life.”

  There was a party of four and the Keeper coming his way and they were already in the area. They would wait five more days but then would have to either turn back or come up the mountain.

  Something had gone wrong and the Keeper had only been able to give them partial information. The sender was letting him know that things might get hairy, quickly and he should be prepared. Mark thought about his kids and wondered what he could do to ensure their safety. There weren’t many options at this point. It was too late to make a run for it to someplace else. They might get caught on the open road with too many questions from an armed military squad that could be watching them.

  He couldn’t just force Sergeant Kipling to leave without similar results. He would have to play it out to the conclusion. There was one last piece of code that came through and made no sense at all to Mark. It translated to, ‘the proof is safe but the Keeper is not.’

  “No kidding,” he mumbled to himself. “Tell me something about the Keeper I don’t know.” He had no idea what they meant by proof but decided to let it go. There was enough to worry about and he wasn’t going to start sending coded messages back to try and clear it up.

  If the radio chatter was to be believed, it would be a few days before he would get his chance. Mark, Kipling and Jake had started taking shifts so that there was always someone who was awake and watching the grounds for any unexpected arrival, whether friend or foe.

  Three days later, Mark was drinking strong coffee watching the snow gently falling at three in the morning wondering how he had so easily slipped back inside of the Circle when he noticed movement among the trees.

  The pennant was still flying at the top of the house, so he wondered if the squad was making a reconnaissance at night to see if they could catch everyone with their guard down and finally discover where the missing Sergeant was hiding.

  He felt for the rifle by his side and held it up to his shoulder to look through the scope. He knew not to look down at the ground but train the scope on the tops of the pines and watch them sway in a way that would tell him if a group of people were moving through them. It was also easier that way to know which direction they were heading.

  There it was again. There was definite movement and they were headed in a curve in a general direction toward the house. He put down the gun and ran into Jake’s room, gently shaking his shoulder and putting a hand over his son’s mouth so he wouldn’t make a sudden noise and wake his brother.

  Jake’s eyes popped open and he tried to sit up but Mark stopped him and gave him a signal to be quiet and follow him out of the room.

  “Someone’s coming,” Mark whispered, once they were in the hallway. “Carry your sister down to the safe room and put her with the Sergeant. Do the usual protocol and make sure you don’t leave any pattern in the dust on the floor. They’ll be here in just a few minutes or less, so you have to hurry.”

  Mark said everything as calmly as he could but he could hear his pulse beating in his ears. This was not the life he wanted for his family and he had taken great risks to protect them from something exactly like this. None of it, in the end, had worked.

  Jake quickly gathered up his sleeping sister in his arms, and Mark watched how gently he carried her down the stairs. He ran back to the window and picked up the gun so he could see how close they were getting to the house.

  He looked through the scope but couldn’t see anything. For a moment, he wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he was just tired and overwrought.

  But Jake came running up the stairs and whispered in an excited voice. “They’re here. The Keeper has made it. They knocked on the basement door, just like you said they would. They knew the right code.”

  Mark followed them downstairs and found everyone sitting in the safe room. All of the lights throughout the house were still off in case someone was watching, even f
rom miles away. A single light would look too suspicious at that time of night.

  The group was gathered in the small safe room and Ruthie was now awake, rubbing her eyes and sitting in the Sergeant’s lap. Ruthie always made friends easily.

  “You must be Mark Whiting. My name is Tom Weiskopf. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

  Mark took his hand to shake it, wondering what it must be like to be the head of such a large organization without any of the trappings that normally came with such a post. Tom Weiskopf had all of the burdens without any of the pleasures.

  “I have a message for you,” said Mark, remembering the odd postscript that had been added to the transmission.

  “Already. They’ve been busy, I see,” said Tom, smiling but Mark could see the exhaustion around his eyes.

  “Yes, the message was ‘the proof is safe’. I don’t know what that means, though. I’m hoping that has some meaning for you.”

  Tom Weiskopf sat down on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. “Was that the entire message?” he asked. “There had to be more.”

  “There was one other thing but you’re here so that can’t be useful. It was just that the Keeper is not. We already knew you were in trouble. You’re safe here, at least for now.”

  Tom looked at one of the men who had arrived with him. His face had turned ashen. “We can’t stay here. We will have to move again as soon as we can. The Keeper isn’t safe and we have to get to Richmond or die trying. Esther has sent a message. Everything hangs on it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Fred was surprised that he could feel that much anger and still function. It was a new sensation. He was sleeping when Norman came to his door. It was almost dawn and Norman looked like a man who had seen too much and didn’t know what to do with all of it. His face was drawn and he looked far older than his forties as he tried to explain what had happened that night.