Trellis: Trellis Trilogy (One)

by N. S. Hill

  On her way out of her bedroom, she caught a glimpse of her bookshelf and slowly backed up a few feet. Her books had been organized. While she was sleeping just feet away, someone had come in her sanctuary and hadn’t woke her up. No one had ever been this close to her and not disturbed her. Not to mention no one had ever had this kind of freedom in her protected dwelling.

  Her eyes narrowed to slits as she gazed at her diaries on the highest shelf, “Did he read my private thoughts? My secrets?” She climbed the ladder and checked the order of the books on the top shelf, and moved her purple pen that laid in front of them. Nothing looked disturbed and the dust was untouched. “Nothing looks out of place up here. That man is lucky. He gets to live today,” she seethed.

  She stalked to the kitchen with one of the rolled up pair of panties clinched in her fist, with a lawless ireful look on her face and teeth clinched solid. Her breathing was deep and with each intake of air, she was filling with more anger. She saw Colin wiping up the kitchen counter and starting the dishwasher. Sloan sat at the kitchen counter flipping through her newly attained bible. Her bible, her dishwasher, her dishes, her kitchen, her house! They were getting too close to her world and she wanted them gone!

  “Your plate is the in the microwave.” He motioned towards the microwave as if she didn’t know where it was, not noticing the steam that seemed to be pouring from D’s ears.

  She pursed her lips together and nodded harshly at him. D held up the red pair of panties and asked, “What did you do? Why would you think you could go in my closet -- and --organize my crap, my books, my kitchen, my house!” Truthfully, this was something she wanted done but she wanted to erase the person’s mind that did the deed. How dare he do something she had no control over~ was what she was really feeling.

  Sloan laughed, “Dude, you organized her closet?” Then he looked at D and defended his organizing friend, “He has a problem, some things we just overlook. I know it’s weird but he likes things neat and tidy. It is a sickness. He is a sick man.” Sloan said as his deep voice chuckled.

  Colin frowned at him and curtly ordered, “SSShut up.”

  She dropped the panties on the floor and ordered, “These stay there. Don’t touch them, don’t put them back in a drawer, don’t even look at them.”

  “Someone could trip on them and break a leg,” Colin slurred as he turned to the sink.

  D snarled, “Leave them alone!”

  She loudly grabbed a fork and dramatically heated her plate of food up. As she stuck it in the microwave she made the conscious decision not cover it up, as it began to pop and sizzle all over the inside of the microwave she smirked.

  Colin winced and quietly asked, “Are you going to cover that up? I just cleaned in there.”

  She ignored him, took her plate out slamming the microwave door shut, walked to the counter and loudly dropped the food on the counter with a loud thud. She sat down on a barstool next to Sloan and didn’t look at either of them.

  Sloan watched the exchange between D and Colin and was quite amused. “Not a morning person, D?” He asked while he was still laughing.

  D asked them both, “Don’t you guys have jobs? Shouldn’t you be anywhere else but here reading my books and organizing my crap?”

  “When you are in a plane crash it is kind of mandatory that you take time off. I’m good for quite some time.” Colin explained.

  “And you?” She asked Sloan pointing her fork at him.

  “Oh, well, I am between jobs. So I should be good for some time, too, since, I’m not actually looking for work.”

  “Great…” She replied with sarcasm.

  “Question for you, D. Why in the world would there ever be a reason-- to ever, ever place weapons in the oven? I could have blown this place up.” Colin asked while he opened a drawer and pulled a cache of weapons out laying them on the counter one by one.

  “Leave,” D grumbled, wishing she had taken the time to place those weapons where they were supposed to go in the first place.

  Sloan gibed, “Leave? No can do sister, we are bound by information now. Besides, we really like your weapons room and your one of a kind weapons stove.”

  “Just don’t place weapons in a box that could BLOW YOU UP,” Banks raised his voice through a tight jaw as he lifted one of the bullet-filled clips in the air.

  “Fine, no weapons in the oven,” she answered, clinching her teeth until they grinded. ‘These men being here are not working,’ she thought again and again.

  “We have gathered a lot of intelligence about islands in the Bahamas that could be used as a staging facility for such a large operation. Once we removed private islands owned by civilians, others owned by travel companies, a few owned by other countries for military bases we came up with what we think… Is a pretty good short list of prospects.” He explained while walking around the kitchen counter and reached out to feel D’s forehead for a fever.

  She lurched back and pointed her fork at him, “You are going to lose that hand!”

  “I need to see if you have a fever, quit being crabby.” He demanded and reached out again. This time she let him feel her forehead. All the while Sloan was tickled at the whole exchange.

  “No fever.” He announced as he walked back to wash his hands so he wouldn’t catch anything she may be infected with. D assumed he was a germ-a-phobic freak, now she witnessed it firsthand.

  “Why are you such a girl?” D asked making Sloan laugh.

  “He isn’t a girl, he is just orderly.”

  “Just to be clear, you are a girl and you aren’t orderly. So your argument is invalid.” Banks reasoned.

  D shook her head in angst. “Do we know what kind of plane or boat we need? I can arrange this ahead of time and have it waiting on us. I do not want surprises.” D yawned as she pushed the eggs around her plate and tried to scoop them up on her fork.

  “Well, since we have weapons with us, we will need to drive down to Florida and take off from there. There is no way we can get guns on a plane. I really don’t think we thought that far ahead. We will need a van, I guess.” Sloan chimed in.

  “I have a van. Well, a camper, well a high-tech RV, well more like a hotel on wheels. I can have it delivered to us and we can head out.”

  “Where is it?” Colin asked.

  “Close enough. It may take about 3 hours to have it delivered.”

  ‘Then you work on that. I have new bandages for your healing gunshot wound and you need a shower.” Colin explained as he wrinkled his nose at her.

  “I can put my own bandages on,” D groaned, and then touched her t-shirt where the wound was and winced.

  “I have something else to show you as well. We wanted to make sure you were well rested first.”

  D watched them cautiously without a word. Colin nodded as Sloan and he slowly lifted himself off the kitchen stool and grabbed a box on the floor and placed it on the counter in front of them. Slowly he started to lift newspapers out of the box and slid them in front of D to read the headlines.

  ~‘Fort Knox Debacle’

  ~‘Witness at the Fort Knox viewing reports massive amounts of Gold, but accidently locked in vault with others.’

  ~‘Injured viewers at Fort Knox so-called verification.’

  ~‘Secretary of State Peter Coughlin must be hiding from Press- nowhere to be found.’

  D picked up one paper after another whispering the headlines in confusion. Turning to the pages and reading what had taken place after the Fort Knox project.

  She finally swallows the dread and asked, “Was anyone hurt? Did anyone… die?”

  Colin straightaway answered her the best he could, “Not that we have read in the papers or as far as we know there are no media outlets reporting anything of that nature. I am worried about Coughlin though. It is odd for a man that hits things head on to be missing for this long.”

  “When we get back from the search for Trellis we can check out his house is he is still missing. I know he likes to get-away wit
h his wife so they may have taken a breather from the press.” D explained as she pushed the papers back towards the box. Speculating on what Peter Coughlin was up to was pointless and she knew he could take care of himself.

  “Now that you have eaten I have your antibiotics.” He explained as he opened a pill bottle and handed her a large oval shaped capsule.”

  Knowing she needed the medicine, she reached out and quickly grabbed it without making a sound. It was annoying they were there and yet comforting at the same time. Now that she was waking up, she felt more thankful for the breakfast he had made. She still was not thankful enough to actually say the words aloud, though.

  She grabbed the package of bandages off the counter and started to bark out orders, “Assemble your team. I will be ready in an hour to go over details and I will need to know what kind of plane Jase wants us in for this fun filled trip or will there be another mode of transportation? I also think Doc should stay behind. He has a family. He has children. The rest of us don’t. He can be our eyes and ears back here if we get caught and need rescued.”

  Colin and Sloan were impressed with what she suggested. They hadn’t considered that they would not be coming back from this mission but it was a possibility. After all, they had survived every other mission they had ever been on and some of them were so brutal they still carry the scars today, physical and mental so why wouldn’t they think this could be the same outcome. They were going to have to convince Doc to stay behind, this was something they didn’t think they were going to be able to do easily.

  D had an idea, “How high-tech is Doc?”

  “Is a genius when it comes to computers and junk.” Sloan answered.

  “He really is good. He is our go to guy when it comes to hard surveillance gathered by tech devices.”

  “Then he is going to love my van. He can be our eyes and ears back here in the states and if we need help he can be,”

  “The cavalry!” Sloan butted in.

  “Cavalry? What is that?” D asked with a look of confusion.

  “John Wayne- in the old movies?” Colin answered.

  “Cowboys and Indians?”

  She still looked confused.

  “Did this John Wayne ever rob a bank?” She asked.

  “NO!” Colin shouted.

  “Then I wouldn’t have seen him.”

  “It is the military coming to the rescue. IF you were rescued by the cavalry then you were in dire straits and it looked hopeless. Then the cavalry would ride in on their horses and Ta-da. You were rescued.” Sloan tried to explain.

  D raised her eyebrows and uneasily prattled out, “Okie-dokie…”

  “It is going to be a long drive to Florida. Does this van of yours have a DVD player?” Sloan asked.

  “Yes.” She answered then quickly changed her answer, “No, not if you are going to make me watch old black and white horse movies.”

  “Too late. I cannot continue on a mission with anyone who does not know who John Wayne is. Period.” Sloan commanded seriously, as he stood up. “I am going out to retrieve supplies.”

  D looked at Colin for help, “Tell him no. This isn’t a fun road trip.”

  Colin looked like he was going to agree with her for a split second and then requested, “Sloan, you better grab a Clint Eastwood movie, too.”

  “Oh, good thinking!”

  “This is why I don’t have friends. You people suck!” D thundered as she stomped off to her bedroom.

  Chapter Twenty-Five~

  Many hours later, and miles and miles on the road headed to the sunshine State, everyone was getting on everyone else’s nerves. D had thoroughly showed Doc how to use all the equipment. They had stopped and gotten the most up to date gear and bulletproof Kevlar. They were still not sure if they should go in by boat, plane, or submarine.

  As they drove across Florida’s Northern border to the coast so did hurricane like forces. The rain was coming at the vehicles on the road sideways like small pellets.

  “I think we should pull over. Really. This is getting so bad I can’t see to drive,” Colin mumbled as he made the decision to pull over on the side of the road. Other vehicles started to follow his lead.

  Sloan reached for a bag and pulled out a handful of DVD’s.

  “No.” D moaned.

  “Stop being a party pooper,” He smiled.

  “We aren’t going to be able to hear anything over this rain hitting the van.” Harper reasoned.

  “I thought it was supposed to be clear? That is what the forecast read when I checked it a few hours ago.”

  “You know those weather men are using educated guesses.” Doc griped.

  “You wanna know something? Peter Coughlin asked me if I knew anything about something called DARAPA. He mentioned it was a weather-controlling device. His thoughts told me they were worried about it and that the military was on high alert. I didn’t think a lot about it at the time because of the Fort Knox project but all this unexpected bad weather makes me think that something sinister is happening against the US Nation.”

  “Don’t be silly. No one can control the weather,” Sloan quipped.

  D grabbed hold of Doc’s mind and as quickly as she thought it Doc reached up and slapped Sloan across the face.

  “Hey!” Sloan yelled as he swiped back at Doc.

  “Yeah, no one can control the weather or minds.” D smiled.

  Sloan held up the DVD’s and jawed, “You are not getting to watch these now!” Then he glared at both D and Doc.

  Harper broke up the commotion with a few facts, “Weather control is possible. It is a proven fact that if particulates in the ionosphere can be heated up with high radio frequencies, and in turn create clouds, precipitation will be a result. In all forms. Not sure about it being used as a weapon, more like climate control. And even knowing the idea of weather control exists, we have enough going on right now without adding more for us to think about. Let’s save crazy weather frequencies for a later date.”

  D was done with listening to all the men and their ideas, she wanted to reach their destination, standing up she moved to the front passenger seat where Jase was sitting, manipulated his mind and he silently got up and moved to the back. As she sat there staring out in the rain a large semi-truck pulled in front of them. D tilted her head as if she was concentrating. Colin noticed her attention had been distracted by something. He thought to himself that D had the same demeanor at the moment, as his dog Spudsy, whom he was actually missing.

  D reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out her cell phone, and started to list a serious of orders, “Here, take this phone, wait about ten minutes, call 911, ask for emergency responders with ambulances in particular, let them know there has been an incident here. Colin, Under no circumstances do you give them your name.”

  “What are you talking about?” Colin asked.

  “No name, Colin.”

  Colin reached slowly for the phone and gave her a look of confusion.

  “Stay here. I don’t need you,” and with that she stepped out in the pouring rain. The rain hit her face with enough force it stung like cold needles. She was soaked in a matter of seconds. Colin watched as she walked towards the semi-truck and disappeared behind the wall of rain and darkness.

  The men had noticed that she stepped out of the RV in the storm, which quieted them down to the point no one asked anything, they just watched.

  Colin noted the time on the dashboard and looked down at the phone in his hand ready to call 911 in nine-in-a-half minutes.

  D walked to the front of the cab, pushed the wet hair from her face, then grabbed the man’s mind that was driving the semi and had him step out in to the rain. She walked him back to the cargo doors of the truck, when Colin and the men in the RV saw her and the truck driver together Colin turned his headlights to bright, illuminating the area.

  The truck driver stepped up on the riser, turned a few latches and locks and finally the doors swung open. The men’s faces in the RV turned whit
e. Inside the semi-truck were women and children looking tattered and torn. Colin estimated at least fifty people had been crammed in that semi. Doc stretched his arm out to open the door to get out and help.

  Colin realized what he was doing and grabbed Doc’s arm, “She’s got it. She really didn’t need our help,” he uttered, amazed at what he was observing. He glanced back down at the clock, he had four more minutes before he called 911. “Someone grab some towels she is going to need them when she gets back in,” now giving his own orders.

  D climbed up in the semi-truck herself calming the crying children and women with her mind. D realized these women paid a lot of hard earned cash to enter the country illegally and had been tricked by this trucking outfit. They were going to be sold, one by one, in to a trafficking ring. They had been in the truck for days at this point; they were scared, hungry, and tired.

  Colin looked down at the clock and began to dial 911 giving them the information about the women, the truck, and their position. Within a few minutes, D had made her way back to the RV climbing back to the front seat, rumpled, soaked, and cold.

  She asked for the cell phone, popped the back off, and removed the components on the inside until it was a shell of a phone. She partially stood up, placed her hand on Colin’s shoulder, asking him to get them off the side of the road and at least a mile or two further down the highway. She then moved to the back and asked the men to go stand in the front of the RV so she could dry off and get dressed in dry clothes.

  Jase asked, “You don’t want to wait here and see what happens to everyone?”

  “No. This place is going to be crawling with emergency personnel and that would put us behind hours if not a whole day. Besides I know what will happen. The man will go to jail, the women and children will see a doctor, and then be transported back or whatever, and we will be long gone.”

  “At least two miles you say,” Colin added as he navigated through the hurricane force rain.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  Harper who rarely had spoken a word since they left finally spoke up, “All this evil in the world and right under our noses and no one is the wiser.”