The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Even twenty would be enough,.” George spoke his thoughts out loud.

  “Sir?”

  “Get in touch with that camp. Have the CO gather about ten, or fifteen assassins and tell him what we take from him, we’ll replace. Inform him he’ll need a two man escort to disperse the CME’s. Send the group out and position them, um . . .” George paused to think. “About twenty miles northeast of Beginnings.”

  At that point Steward was confused. “Sir, if you want to attack Beginnings, fifteen . . .”

  “Stew, what do you take me for, a moron? No.” George shook his head. “I have an idea. We use assassins only, stragglers. Bring in one, one day, two the next, one the following. All CME’s. It won’t look like an attack. That’s not what I’m aiming for. I’m aiming for attention. If the first wave of ten or so doesn’t work, we’ll wait a few days and start over again. Eventually it’ll work. I want to get a call from Joe Slagel. We’re in a cease fire and it will be obvious that we aren’t breaking that.”

  “Then why do you want his call?”

  George let out a breath. “So I can inform him that while we were moving a barrage of CME’s, they went haywire and are loose. We’ll thank Joe for letting us know and at that time, I will tell him I would like to sit down and further extend the peace talks.”

  “What peace talks?” Steward asked.

  “The ones I want to have.”

  Steward panicked. Did he miss something? Had he fallen asleep at one of George’s meetings? “When . . . when did we decide that we didn’t want Beginnings?”

  “We didn’t.”

  “Do we?” Steward asked.

  “Want Beginnings? Absolutely,” George said.

  “O.K.,” Steward sounded lost. “Don’t yell, but when did we decide to extend the cease fire and go into peace talks?”

  “We didn’t.”

  With a ‘whew’ Steward relaxed. “I thought I missed something.”

  “No.” George shook his head arrogantly. “The peace talks I propose are a crock of shit. I want to meet with Joe Slagel so I can walk through those gates and see for myself that everything is all right.”

  “If you’ll forgive me, that is quite an extreme. I mean, just wait for the call. It’ll come.”

  “I think something is wrong.”

  “If they aren’t pulling anything foolish, then they aren’t close to being discovered. It’s just that it’s a big plan to only find out that everything is fine.”

  “Is it?” George questioned him. “Just take a moment to think. You were a father so you’ll understand this. My daughter and Johnny, who is like my own son, are behind those walls. When it comes to your kids, you’ll do anything, go to any length, and take any risk. If someone is on to them or if things are getting tight, then I have to get them out of there . . . at any cost.” George pushed the phone forward to Steward. “Get a hold of our Minnesota camp.”

  ^^^^

  After a wave of Hal’s cigarette smoke from his face, Elliott held up his hand. “Now let me see if I have this straight. You want . . .”

  “Did I tell you, Elliott . . .” Hal lifted his mug to his lips, took a ‘stalling’ sip and brought it down. “Did I tell you Dean saw the injection site?”

  With one hand on his hip, in a ‘leaning toward Hal’ stand, Elliott nodded. “Yes. Now back to what I was . . .”

  “My God,” Hal fake gasped. “You look different. In fact, I would go as far as to say pleasant in your lack of uniform attire.” He held up his hand and pointed to the jeans and denim shirt Elliott wore.

  “I didn’t feel like being in uniform for choir practice, thank you very much.”

  “Wasn’t that a great idea I had?”

  “No,” Elliott near laughed. “I have every bad singer in New Bowman auditioning for a choir I didn’t know we were going to have. You have changed the subject completely.”

  “I did not.”

  “You did,” Elliott said. “You ramble off what is going to happen, then when I try to question, you interrupt.”

  Hal grunted with a whine. “Go on. Say it.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Elliott repeated his earlier actions of lifting his hand. He ignored Hal’s rolling eyes. “No matter who Bev’s killer is, to catch the bomber, or as we think catch Johnny, I am going to be publically named as the killer.”

  “Yes.” Hal opened his mouth to say more.

  “O.K., wait. I’m still going. I will publically boast my innocence and demand a trial, which will never happen because I will fake repercussions of my illness. And, if need be, I will use my illness as a means to be bedridden so I can be an easy target for Johnny to try to kill or hit with one of those debilitating drugs he has high access to. Right?”

  “My God, do you ramble.”

  “Right?” Elliot asked again.

  “Yes,” Hal nodded. “So . . . you’re not going to do it?”

  Elliott took a deep breath. “Why do I get the feeling if I say ‘no’ that it won’t make a bit of difference?”

  “Oh, but Elliott, it will.”

  “I believe that.” Elliott shook his head. “Of course I’ll do it. What do I have to lose?”

  “Your life,” Hal grinned.

  “Funny.”

  Because it wasn’t expected, Hal looked curiously at the light knock at the door. He glanced at his watch. “It’s probably one of your choir boys wanting to know if they made it.” He hopped to the door and opened it. “Ellen,” he said in shock.

  With just as much of a look of surprise, Elliott turned around.

  Ellen’s words were breathy and nervous. “Hey, uh, Hal. Are you busy?”

  “What are you doing here?” Hal asked.

  “I stole one of Frank’s trucks and drove.”

  “Good God, Ellen, it’s midnight. Did you come here alone?” Hal opened the door wider.

  “Yeah and that road is really scary.” She stepped inside. “Do you know how dark it is at night? I swear it’s even darker when you’re driving alone.”

  “Was there an emergency?” Hal asked.

  “Yeah. No,” She shook her head with closed eyes. “No. Sort of. I need a favor. I had to see you.”

  Elliott stepped forward. “Is something wrong?”

  Ellen blinked in debate. “There could be.”

  After a short breath, Hal gave a stern look. “Ellen., before we get into a game of ‘riddle me this’, what is it?”

  “Did you need me to leave?” Elliott asked.

  “No.” Ellen shook her head and reached into her pocket. Her heart pounded and her hand trembled as she touched the phone. As she pulled it out, it hit against the side of her pocket, fumbled from her shaking hand, flew out, and landed on the floor. Hurriedly she bent down and reached for it at the same time as Hal.

  He saw the twitching of her fingers. “Why are you shaking?”

  Gripping the phone as if for dear life, Ellen stood up. “This is Joe’s phone.”

  “Why . . . why do you have my father’s phone?” Hal asked. “Wasn’t that locked up?”

  “Yes.” Ellen nodded.

  “How did you unlock it?”

  “I didn’t. I mean, it doesn’t matter,” Ellen spoke nervously.

  Hal turned his head to Elliot, mouthing the words in question, ‘doesn’t matter?’ He looked back to Ellen.

  “Hal.” She showed him the phone. “Do you know the code that unlocks this?”

  “Yes, I do but I can’t give it to . . .”

  “No.” Frantically she shook her head and shoved the phone at Hal. “I don’t want it.” She spoke rapidly, each word picking up more intensity. “Just change it. Change the code. Just change it, Hal. Make it hard. Make it unbreakable. Change it. Change it now.”

  Hal’s hands went to the phone that was pressed hard to his chest by Ellen in what seemed to be desperation. “Ellen . . .”

  “Please don’t ask me.” She stepped back and whispered. “Don’t ask. Just . . . change it.”


  “And what am I to tell my father when he can’t break the code.”

  “Has he called here since you were in Beginnings this afternoon?” Ellen asked.

  “No,” Hal answered, “but . . .”

  “Good,” Ellen spoke out with a breath. “Good. You’ll write him a note saying you changed it when you were in town. Routine security thing. Yeah,” she exhaled. “That’s what you’ll do.” She gave a soft pat to his arm then turned. She smiled at Elliott as she walked toward the kitchen. “Hey, Elliot, how are you?” She sighed out again, “I need something to drink.”

  The words didn’t need to be said. The same unspoken thoughts were exchanged in the look between Hal and Elliott after Ellen had left the room.

  ^^^^

  Outside of his apartment building Hal peered around Elliot to the truck where Ellen sat and waited. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Elliott looked back at her. “Well, Captain, you could exercise your authority and demand to know.”

  Hal smirked. “Oh, sure. Right away.” He nodded and rolled his eyes. “It’s Ellen. She’ll lie.” Again he looked at her. “No, Elliott. I think we both know who she busted with that phone. It’s the mother in her doing that maternal protecting thing.” He let out a long breath. “But it bothers her. She came to me once. She’ll come to me again.” Laying his hand on Elliott’s arm, he turned him. “Get her back home. Owens will follow you to drive you back. Get that phone put back and make sure she gets safely to her door.”

  Elliott nodded, took a step, and stopped. “What about tomorrow and the next day? How do we ensure her safety? We both know what he’s capable of.”

  “I know. For tonight she’ll be fine. Tomorrow, I’ll come up with a way, without saying why, to get my brother to have her watched. Get her home, Elliott.”

  “Yes, sir.” Elliott walked to the driver’s side of the truck and got in. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” Ellen looked back to see Hal standing there. “What um, were you guys talking about?”

  “I had to convince the Captain that I was coming back tonight. He didn’t think I was.”

  “Oh.” Ellen looked back out the windshield as she huddled in her jacket near the passenger’s door.

  “Ready?” Elliott started the truck then, as he reached for the gears, he stopped when Ellen scooted close.

  “Do you mind?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” Speaking softly, then giving a gentle smile, Elliott kissed her lightly on the forehead, shifted the gear, and began to drive.

  ^^^^

  “Frank,” Dean said his name with such relief as he opened the front door.

  “What’s wrong?” Frank asked. “You sounded panicked.”

  “I am.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t find Ellen.”

  Frank blinked. “What do you mean you can’t find her?”

  “I can’t find her, Frank. She stayed at the clinic to help with Josephine. It seemed to be taking her a while. When I radioed, Forrest said she left before the procedure and never come back. That was two hours ago.”

  “Fuck, Dean.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “You have to keep tabs on her. I told you with this bomber running around and . . . wait.” Frank lifted his radio headset and switched the channel on the box. ‘Security, this is an all call. Has anyone seen Ellen?”

  Dean watched Frank whip the headset off as if it squealed. “What’s wrong?”

  “They all answered at once.” Frank brought the microphone piece to his mouth. “Hold it!” He blasted. “One at a time. Dan, you first . . . . yeah. Yeah. Good. Steve what did you . . . .yeah. Fuck. Thanks.”

  “What?” Dean questioned.

  “She went to New Bowman.” Frank raised his eyebrow. “She told Dan I said she could borrow my truck to go and see Hal. Fuckin Hal. Dean, I’m telling you the affair didn’t end. Fuck.” He stormed to the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get her.” Frank flung open the door and when he did, he brought in Ellen.

  Ellen stumbled as she nearly fell inside.

  “El.” Dean walked to her. “Where have you been?”

  “Yeah, El.” Frank repeated with less concern and more edge. “Where have you been?”

  Ellen shifted her eyes.

  “I was worried,” Dean said.

  “Fuck, worried. I’m pissed. Where were you?”

  Ellen held up her hand. “I was in New Bowman.”

  “See!” Frank yelled. “Fuck. Did you or did you not go there to see Hal!”

  Dean tried to be calming, “Frank.”

  “No, Dean.” Frank shook his head. “El?”

  Ellen hesitated. “Yes, but . . .”

  “Dean.” Frank spoke strongly. “You deal with this or I will. She’s cheating on us.”

  Dean winced. “She is not cheating. God, Frank. Be paranoid.” He turned his views to Ellen. “Are you?”

  “No.” Ellen shook her head. “I needed to see Hal.”

  Frank tossed his hands up. “At midnight you needed to see Hal?”

  “Frank,” Dean tried to warn.

  “El?” Frank badgered. “What was so important that you had to steal my truck and traipse off to fuckin New Bowman to see my brother?”

  “I . . . I . . .” Ellen stood up straight and sniffed in courage. “I needed a hug. So there.”

  After a brief stare at Ellen, Dean eyes locked on her, lifted his shoulders, and tilted his head. “She needed a hug, Frank. That’s it.”

  Ellen crossed her arms and looked smug. “So there.”

  “So there?” Frank asked hard. “No, El. No ‘so there.’ I can understand Dean and his little man arms not cutting it, but I’m six foot fucking three. If you can’t get a big hug from me, you’re not getting one from Hal. Fuck.” He reached for the door. “I was fuckin busy too, Dean. Making me come all the way over here. Thinking something happened to her all while she’s stealing my fuckin truck to get a hug! I hope you’re happy!” With a slam open of the door, Frank barged out.

  Dean reached around Ellen and closed the door.

  “Dean,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

  Dean nodded. “I’m going to assume something is up. And . . . .” He held up a finger. “I will assume you’d rather not, at this time, tell me.”

  “Would you mind?”

  “Is it viable?”

  “Very.”

  “All right.” Dean stepped to her and hugged her. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “No, we’ll let this go for now.” He backed away and took her hand. “I’m guilty too.”

  “What do you mean?” Ellen questioned.

  “Come sit down with me.” Holding her hand, Dean led her to the couch. “You aren’t telling me something and there’s something I am not telling you.”

  Ellen sat down. “What’s wrong?”

  “A part of why I didn’t tell you is I forgot. The other part is I had to put it together in my mind and calm down.” He sat next to Ellen and saw her waiting look. “Remember, right before the explosion, I discovered who the father of Bev’s baby was?”

  “Oh my God. I forgot about that. Who?”

  “Ready?” Dean asked her and waited for the nod. “I approached him. He adamantly denied it, accused me of setting him up, and after argument and argument . . . Henry finally admitted he was with Bev.”

  “Henry.” Ellen’s eyes closed. She plopped backwards. “God, it makes sense now, doesn’t it? That had to be the thing she was blackmailing him with.”

  “It looks that way.”

  She sat up again. “Henry?”

  “Henry.” Dean laid his hand on her knee.

  “He had to know,” Ellen said in shock. “He had to know that the time frame was right.” Ellen watched Dean shrug. “Why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he just come forward, during all that shit with you and Bev, and say to me, ‘El, I could be the fath
er too’?”

  Dean lifted his shoulders in a guessing mode. “He had his reasons, all of them weak.”

  Ellen’s mouth bunched up to one side as she shook her head in disgust. “This really pisses me off.”

  “Good,” Dean said.

  Ellen looked at him. “Good?”

  “Yeah.” Sliding his hand to hers, Dean gripped her fingers. “I want to ask you something. You can turn me down and I won’t get mad. In all of our years together, I have never asked you to do anything like this. When the Bev thing happened, you had your doubts and with reason. You didn’t stand beside me . . .”

  “Dean.”

  “No, listen.” He held up his hand then spoke very seriously. “I would like you to support me now and show that you stand beside me. I’m writing Henry Kusakari out of my life. He is no longer my friend, anyone I associate with outside of business, or any one I care about, especially after the attitude he gave me today about it. What I’m asking of you is . . .” Dean hesitated.

  “You don’t have to ask.”

  “El.” Dean awkwardly smiled. “I don’t think you understand. I’m not asking you not to argue with my decision,”

  “You’re asking me to do the same,” Ellen said, “and without hesitation, for me and for you, I am going to do the same.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Ellen leaned to Dean, kissed him, and then stood up. “I’m going to go change.”

  “All right.” Dean slipped his hand from hers as she walked by him.

  “Dean?” Ellen stopped at the beginning of the hall. “You think you know a person. You think . . . you think years guarantees your faith in them.” With solace she spoke, staring out as if dazed, “but it doesn’t matter. Does it? You think you’re talking to them, when forever they’ve had their back turned on you. It leaves us with choices . . .” She shrugged. “Take it under control ourselves or turn our own backs. You know. What do you do? What do you do?”

  “El?” Curiously, Dean stood up. “Really. Henry’s a coward. His actions aren’t worth even dwelling over.”

  “Is it cowardliness, Dean?” Ellen asked paraphrasing for another question in her mind. “Is it? Or is it the fact that he just could never be trusted and we were fooled all along.”