FATED TO THE PURPOSE (Richard and Morgana MacKenzie Mysteries Book 2)

by Jack Flanagan

  “Cattle rustling is big out west. Everyone out there carries a gun — dangerous work for the FDA . . . Is Serena okay?” Before Morgana had a chance to answer, I added, “She’s older than I am. She’s no spring chicken, you know.”

  Morgana relaxed her shoulders and gave me an empathetic half grin. “Your old girlfriend, as far as I am aware, is okay. I think that I saw Serena outside the inn with one of the men dressed in black just before the explosion.”

  “The explosion — ”

  “Yes, that scared us all. I found out from Peterson that while Kyle distracted our captors’ attention with his impromptu pratfall, the deputy took advantage of the situation. He crawled over to the bag with the explosives and attempted to get it out of the building.“

  “Thank God that Peterson took the thing out. That bomb could have — ”

  “He didn’t get it out.”

  “What?”

  “He never had the chance. He was intercepted by the guy who brought you upstairs. The one whom I thought had killed you.”

  “Williams! He took the bomb?”

  “That’s what the Peterson told me. And according to him, Williams relieved him of the bomb It was very odd, he thought.”

  “Odd?” I was quite intrigued by this piece of news.

  “Peterson said that after he had grabbed the satchel, he crawled to the foyer. He was about to open the door when from out of the smoke, Williams suddenly appeared aiming a gun down at him and demanded the bag of explosives.”

  “How was that peculiar?”

  “Well, Peterson said that Williams told him, in effect, ‘to trust him, give him the satchel, and no one would get hurt.’ If Peterson didn’t turn over the bag, Williams said that he would blow Peterson’s head off, take the satchel and the only person who would have gotten hurt would be Peterson.”

  “Makes sense,” I said which made Morgana look at me a little surprised.

  “It does?”

  “Our day had been so crazy, almost unbelievable, why wouldn’t Williams ask for the explosives in such a weird way? Was anyone hurt by the explosion?”

  “I think Williams was. He grabbed the satchel from Peterson and ran out the front door of the inn. There were guns shots and right after that, then came the explosion. I haven’t seen Williams since the shootout in the lobby, and when I asked about him from our rescuers, they flatly said that they don’t know whom I’m talking about.”

  “How about Serena?”

  “I don’t know,“ Morgana reluctantly said. “I’ve asked but I was only told that Agent Boswell’s condition and whereabouts is restricted information.”

  “Restricted information?” That didn’t sound good. Bo had been an important part of my life, and though our paths diverged some years ago, I still had some feelings for her.

  “That is what Agent Wagner told me. I think she is the one in charge. Richard, if Serena was — ” Morgana stopped speaking. She must have seen something in my eyes. “No, she is probably fine. She seemed to be a very capable woman. There must be governmental protocols to follow in an event like this.”

  “Are there any events like this?” I said with a tremor in my voice. “This whole affair has been a big fat maze of deceits and puzzles. How are Kyle and Peterson?”

  “As far as I know, Peterson had some superficial scrapes and bruises. He is filling out some type of reports for the authorities, and your brother is fine and is resting. If you could step outside your room, you can hear him snoring from down the hall.”

  “Do you know what happened to the inn’s staff?”

  “Everyone was shaken up, but okay. And for Mrs. Prosper, well I’m so proud of you getting her out of the building. How did you ever managed to carry her down those stairs in your condition?”

  “Was she hurt badly? The woman is in a wheelchair.”

  “According to Mrs. Prosper, the doctors are over protective and worry too much about lawsuits. They insisted that she use the chair while she is staying here at the center. She admitted to me that she was too tired to fight with them about it, so she agreed. Can you blame them; after all, she is eighty-something years old.”

  Morgana leaned a bit towards me and added, “She confessed to me on the side that she was secretly enjoying being push around; it makes her feel special .”

  “Good for her.” I may have been too acerbic in my response, but hey, I had just awaken to find myself in a hospital bed, after almost being shot to death and drowned. I was sore, tired, and still confused. “And who precisely came to the rescue? And what happened to our gun toting-friends?”

  Morgan scrunched her face into that painfully ponderous look that she makes when she has to choose between similar mutual funds for her IRA. “I don’t know.”

  “How could you not know? Those guys in black — ”

  “That is why I don’t know. They all had some type of black stocking over their faces and were dressed in black combat gear — black helmets and jumpsuits, black body armor and military boots, matching black backpacks, and such. Even the guys flying the helicopter wore black from what I could see. There were at least three of these black-clad troopers scurrying about on the grounds. There may have been more, I can’t say. They all looked the same to me, and I never saw more than three of these guys together at one time. They were always moving around. But each one was armed with weapons like those in a movie. They all had sidearms and knives, and God only knows what else—”

  “But whom did they work for? Were they state police, FBI, DEA — ”

  “That’s just it, Richard. They didn’t wear any markings or insignias on their outfits. None. They didn’t identify themselves and when the shooting began, I wasn’t going to ask.”

  “But after, did you ask? Did they say anything?”

  “I did ask, and they didn’t, or better said . . . they wouldn’t.” Morgana sounded annoyed.

  “What about the bad guys?” I asked. “Anyone of them hurt?”

  “Smith was shot; that was scary.”

  I held Morgana’s hand tightly again to offer some comfort as I said, “I bet it was. Seeing anybody getting shot would be unnerving.”

  “True, but it wasn’t just that Smith was shot that made the situation terrifying. It was because he held some type of trigger mechanism that would set off the bomb.”

  “Oooh.”

  “So when Smith got shot, not fatally the lucky bastard, he must have set off the bomb thinking that green satchel was still somewhere in the inn — ”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  “No, and thank God. But as you know, it made a powerful explosion outside the building. That Williams guy was the last one to have the bag. The explosion must have taken him with it.”

  “That could have been Peterson,” I said, I left it at that.

  “It could have been all of us,” said Morgana hauntingly. She paused, took a breath and forced herself to smile. “Not much to tell about after the explosion. It kind of marked the end of the battle at the Whyte Post Inn, I suppose. Smith and his friends were rounded up.”

  “And?”

  “The guys in black ushered all us non-combatants out into the rain, and told us to wait for help. Then they flew away.”

  “That’s it? Didn’t they say anything before they left?”

  “They told us nothing other than we should stay away from the building, which was still billowing smoke at the time, and wait for the emergency crews. Then, before we knew it, the guys in black, Smith and his colleagues got on the helicopter and just flew away. . . The emergency vehicles arrived about ten minutes after the chopper left.”

  “And these guys in black didn’t say who they were?”

  Morgana grimaced and slightly shook her head.

  “Didn’t they even check any of you for injuries?”

  “No. In fact, they treated us quite brusquely considering the circumstances, I thought. They wouldn’t answer any of our questions or talk to anybody. Except for one, a woman in their group. Her f
ace was covered like the rest of her buddies and — ”

  “A woman? How do you know if it was a woman?”

  “Her voice. She was smaller framed, not physically built like the others. I assumed that she was a woman. Anyway, she briefly talked with Mrs. Prosper. When the helicopter left, I asked Mrs. Prosper what she and her black dressed companion talked about. And she told me that she had told the person about you.”

  “Well, that was decent of Mrs. Prosper. Was there any more?”

  “That’s it.”

  “You didn’t learn anything else?” I said in some disbelief. Though when I thought about it, this entire adventure at the inn was bordering on the state of unbelievability.

  “No. Not one iota more of information other than what I told you.”

  “So these gun-toting guys in black, just flew away leaving you all in the rain. What next?”

  “When the chopper left, we did as we were instructed; we stayed outside, in the rain. Who would really want to go into a smoldering building anyway, right? But since it was still raining, I suggested that we all go take shelter in our cars. No one objected. So that is what we did. It wasn’t long before some special units of the Vermont National Guard showed up. Somehow they managed to cross over the spot in the road where it had washed out, with a portable bridge.”

  Morgana leaned closer to me. “And arriving with the Guard were Agent Wagner and some FBI agents. They grilled us very pointedly about the events at the inn.”

  “And during these interviews, did you learn anything from them?” I knew that Morgana couldn’t tolerate being asked questions without asking some of her own.

  “Again, nothing. The FBI didn’t volunteer any more information about what had happened to us than their black-suited counterparts. They didn’t even acknowledge that there were guys in black flying around the neighborhood. When I asked about, how did they know that we needed help, the answer was that someone nearby saw smoke coming from the inn. When I asked agent Wagner was it customary for the FBI to accompany nation guard units on rescue missions, her response was simply, ‘Sometimes.’”

  “The nerve!” I said with some anger. “And after all that we went through.” Morgana must have been frustrated talking with the FBI. She doesn’t like being put off, and she hates being given less than cogent answers to her questions.“Can you believe that?” added Morgana. “Yet, Mrs. Prosper had no troubling talking with the FBI agents. I watched her chat away with another young female agent for at least ten minutes.”

  “What did Mrs. Prosper talk to the agent about?”

  “I wasn’t close enough to hear much of what was talked about other than Mrs. Prosper emphatically saying at one point, ‘We must find him. There isn’t any alternative.’”

  “Really?”

  “When I asked her about her conversation, she said that she told the FBI to look for you and that her husband Fred always wanted to be an FBI agent. But to me, the conversation that Mrs. Prosper had with the FBI didn’t appear simple or friendly.”

  “How so?”

  “By the FBI agents’ body language. They almost cowered as they listened to her. It looked like to me that she had some invisible hold over the agents as if she were their grandmother who ought not to be crossed. I can’t wait until I’m in my eighties to have that type authority by the mere fact that I’m old.”

  A tinge of guilt touched me. “I really must thank Mrs. Prosper,“ I mumbled to myself.

  “Though they didn’t say much,” continued Morgana, “the FBI did seem more sympathetic to our plight than did their black dressed counterparts who were with us earlier. The agents were always telling us that the worst was over, and there was nothing else to fear, and we believed them. Partly because of what we all went through, we wanted to believe them. After our dealings with the FBI, we were quickly checked out by ETMs, and, ultimately, the Guard whisked us all here to the medical center.”

  “And you have no idea what the mysterious commando team was, or where Smith and his friends were going?”

  “No, not in the slightest. I assume your bad guys were the hooded people who were taken away by the helicopter, I recognized some of them by their shirts and pants. They and our mystery men flew away to who knows where.”

  “How many hooded guys got on the chopper?”

  “Hard to say. There were two hooded guys in the stretchers and two others.”

  “That would make four who got on the helicopter — Smith, Williams, and the two newcomers.There should have been at least five. Are you sure only four hooded guys got on the helicopter?”

  “I can’t say for certain.”

  “I wonder if Dolan was on that helicopter?”

  Morgana paused, thought, and came up blank. “I can’t say for sure. He may not have been. Do you think he got away?”

  “He might have,” I said as my mind’s eye viewed my last moments with Dolan. I saw him trying to drag me into the boat, all the while using me as his human shield. I heard the explosion. My shirt ripped that was followed by my splash in the river. But what happened to Dolan? Did he fall into the water after I did? Did he get away like me? Dolan’s whereabouts was suddenly food for thought, but a type of meal that I had no stomach for at the time.

  “Well, if I never see that bastard again, it would be too soon.” My attention turned to more pleasant thoughts. “And you? Are you okay?”

  “A little shaken up, but as I said, I’m all right. . . . Really, I’m fine.” — There was comfort in that thought.

  The amber glow of a setting sun filtered through my room’s window. For several minutes, the light It fell onto Morgana’s face in such a way that she looked as beautiful as the day I first met her two short decades ago. I felt that I was the luckiest man alive.

  “Now, Richard, tell me what happened to you.”

  And so I did, and it felt good. Telling my tale gave me the chance organize my thoughts and to make sense of the day’s events. Naturally, under the circumstances, the humorous old saw, ‘If I told you, I would have to kill you,’ was growing some serious teeth. So, I thought it best to protect Morgana and left out a few specific details. To my way of thinking, the less she knew, the safer she would be.

  It felt like Morgana and I chatted for about an hour before a nurse, which I thought was odd, came in with two hospital dinners for us. I remember that my meal went down really well, but for the life of me, I can’t recall what I ate. On the other hand, Morgana had some type of chicken in white sauce which she seemed to enjoy. After dinner, the nurse returned and did her night routine on me which included a lot of probing, questioning, and sticking things into me over my protests.

  As the nurse left, she informed us that lights were to go out in fifteen minutes.

  “Well, it’s almost time for bed, Richard,” said Morgana.

  I eyed the empty bed next to mine. “Morgana, where are you staying?”

  “I’m here at the center just like the others; I’m in the room next door. Why?”

  I tilted my head in the direction of the nearby empty bed.

  Morgana squeezed my hand again tightly, “Don't tempt me, Richard.“

  “Why, it could be romantic.”

  “I love you, Richard, but to look at you now, you are as sexy as bandaged gangrenous leg.”

  “Ow, that hurt.”

  “You know that you would be screaming in pain if I got my amorous clutches on you” — which was probably true — “so let’s not, and say we did. Besides, I’m sure that you need to rest. And if you’re not tired, let me tell you . . . I am.”

  “If you are not staying the night with me, why then did I get a room all to myself?”

  Morgana appeared sheepish when she answered, “When you arrived, I mentioned that you talk in your sleep, especially when you are stressed.”

  “I do?”

  “No. But I had gotten a sense of how things work around here, so I thought that I would just mention it.”

  “To whom did you mention it?”
/>
  “Agent Wagner and Mrs. Prosper.”

  I grunted, “I might have known.”

  “Mrs. Prosper said she had some pull at the center here, because of her volunteer work. She said that she would see to it that each of us would be assigned to a room to ourselves. This way, she explained, you can get your needed rest and be monitored by the staff. And I wouldn’t be disturbed. She also said something strange.”

  “There’s a newsflash. What did she say?”

  “She said that I ought to protect my ‘romantic mystique.’”

  “Do what?“

  “Something about that I should shave my legs without you watching me. It was so . . . odd, but she spoke so earnestly. I knew she only wanted to be helpful. But I was taken back a little. She then said something to the effect that you compared me to a Clydesdale horse?”

  “She said that. Well, I have no idea what she was talking about. As I said, Mrs. Prosper and I, we both, had a difficult time back at the inn. Who knows exactly who said what, or what someone thought he or she heard? But after being cracked the head with an iron bar, shot at, used as a human shield and almost drowning in a raging river, I am so glad to be here with you.”

  Morgana smiled. She leaned over and gave me a deep kiss on my lips which only made me want her more. Pulling back from me, she said, “There was a time that I thought . . . I may never see you again, Richard. Somebody upstairs must be looking out for you.” She gazed into my eyes which made my soul blush. “I love you, Richard.”

  I told her that I loved her too. She got up, waved, and went away, shutting the door as she left.

  The day had proven to be one horrendous event. My Morgana was my only respite, and I drew some joy knowing that she was okay, but I was worried about Bo. The floor nurse soon came by to check on me and concluded that I was progressing nicely. It wasn’t long before I found myself alone, comfortable, and safe in my bed.

  Thinking again about Morgana, I concluded that I probably would not have been the best love partner that night though it would have been fun to try. It was a pleasant thought.