“Frank. Let’s . . .”
“I’m done talking about this. See ya.” He lifted his hand.
“Frank . . .”
“Training, first thing tomorrow.” Frank moved out of the garage door without looking back.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Former Quantico Marine Headquarters
George thought the aromatic blast was a figment of his imagination or else a brush of a person from his past. He always considered himself gifted in that way. Anytime a strong memory or even a visit from someone who had passed away hit him, so did a familiar scent that was attached to the deceased person.
After his father died, it was the scent of the car garage where he worked. George’s mother brought the aroma of her prided rose garden, and his grandmother the sour kraut she made every Saturday.
Scents.
But George couldn’t place the cigar scent. It was bold, vibrant, strong, and since it was something he hadn’t smelled since pre-plague, it couldn’t have been real. But the more he moved down the corridor of the office installation, the stronger the scent grew. Just as he was about to turn the bend to his office, the cigar aroma was the strongest.
Sniffing like a dog, George turned clockwise and slightly hunched some in his hound dog mode, he followed it.
Bingo.
There was a simple knock on the office door and George opened it.
“Sir!” Bertha Callahan stood up. She removed the thick cigar from her mouth and placed it in the ashtray. “Sorry, sir.”
“At ease.” Georg stepped inside. “Are you smoking a cigar?”
“Yes, sir, I indulge.”
“Where did you get this?”
“I brought them up from down south. They make them down there.”
“I’ll be damned. Do you have another?”
“Absolutely, sir.” She reached in her desk drawer and pulled one out. “Enjoy.” She extended it to him.
George took it and ran it under his nose. He gave a shrug of ‘not bad’. “I’ll save this for after dinner.” He stuck it in his shirt pocket. “I’ll leave you be.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, Callahan? Have you seen Stew?”
“He . . . he left for vacation two days ago.”
“Vacation? Where in the hell did he go?”
“Florida. You approved it. Shall I show you the . . .”
“No.” George lifted his hand. “There’s no need. So you’re in charge of the Beginnings line?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you heard anything?”
“No, sir.”
“Find me if Jess Boyens checks in.” George reached for the door. “And if Frank Slagel calls, tell him to try me later. I’m not dealing with his stupid ass.”
“Slagel, Sir?”
“Yes.” George turned around.
“Slagel.” Bertha sat down slowly. “Sir, that’s an odd name.”
“Well, they’re an odd bunch.” George turned for the door again.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but did you ever wonder . . .”
“Bert.” George stopped her. “Do you like your job?”
“Very much so.”
“Would you consider yourself dedicated to the Society?”
“One hundred percent. I have a notch belt with thirty-three personal kills sir.”
“Good. Good. That’s the kind of dedication I need to hear. Now, before anything is said . . .” George stepped forth into the office. “We have to talk.”
The office door closed.
^^^^
The tin of the reminder flask rattled its emptiness as it fell on the counter before Ellen in the clinic lab. She peered slowly over her shoulder. “Frank?”
Frank stared hard at her, eye to eye, and then he swallowed. “I broke.”
Exhaling at a slow rate, Ellen nodded. “Frank, I . . .”
“Last night.” He reached down and grabbed the flask. “I broke.” He shrugged almost in embarrassment. “Everything crashed down on me. Everything. My Dad. Johnny. Us. You name it. So . . .” He raised his eyebrows. “I drank this. Drank it all. One pint, El. And I, uh . . .” Frank exhaled. “Stopped for one more before I came home.”
“How are you feeling today about it?”
“Like shit.” He shook his head.
“You do know it’s understandable.”
“No. It’s weak. I needed I and I was weak.” Shoving the flask in his back pocket, Frank turned to leave. “I needed to tell someone.”
“Frank? What now?”
“I don’t know.” He lifted his hands. “I can’t honestly say. Do I want to drink? No. Do I need to drink? Oh, my God, El, do I need to drink.”
“Do you want to go somewhere? Sit down and talk?”
“No.” Frank shook his head. “I said all I needed to say. No talking.”
“Frank, please don’t tell me you’re still upset with me.” Ellen moved to him.
“Upset? Nah.”
“I’m glad.” Ellen smiled. “You had me worried.” She chuckled emotionally. “It probably was just your bad day talking. But I thought for sure you were ending the understanding.”
“I am.”
“Here we go again.” Ellen shook her head and turned. “For how long this time, Frank?”
“For good.”
“Right.” She scoffed and returned to her work.
“I’m serious.”
“And for what reason!” Ellen in a surprise switch of demeanor, blasted as she faced him. “Huh! It’s always something. What is it this time, Frank?”
“One word! Sgt. Fuckin Ryder.”
After closing her eyes, and counting three fingers, Ellen shook her head. “What about Elliott? He has nothing to do with it.”
“He has everything to do with it,” Frank argued. “Do you have any carrots?”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. I don’t know where that came from.”
“I’m lost.” Ellen gave up. “I am. Did something happen when you took that bullet? Before you got shot, you liked Elliott. Now you’re an asshole to him. It was a joke we were playing on you to give you motivation to come out of the Salicain.”
“That isn’t it.”
‘Then what is it?” Ellen asked strong.
“He’s no longer dying.”
“W . . . what?” Her question squeaked out. “What does that have to do with it?”
“It has everything to do with it. When he was interested in you before, it was OK. He was dying,” Frank rattled, ignoring Ellen’ gasp. “I mean, if he got you, how long would that be for? Right? A few months maybe . . .”
“Frank!”
“What! He’s not dying anymore, El! Dean fixed him. You’re still interested in him!”
“You thought I had an interest in Elliott only because he was dying?” Ellen asked.
“What other reason is there!”
“Well, what about . . .”
“Oh!” Frank grunted. “Oh, you would think that about him.”
Ellen looked at him puzzled.
“Yes, I do know what I’m saying. Don’t even go there. No!” Frank shook his head as Ellen just stared at him. “I am thinking clearly. Too clearly.”
“You’re insane,” Ellen spoke softly.
“Right. No, I’m out of here.” Frank took a few steps and spun around. “I’m not an asshole! Oh, yeah! Bet me. You watch how serious I am. You don’t think? Watch how long this lasts!” He turned again. “It just fucking figures, don’t it!” Frank blasted to Elliott who had just walked in. “What!”
Elliott with a calm raise of his eyebrows, raised a sheet of paper. “Your . . . report.”
“Thank you.” Frank snatched it up and stormed out.
Confused, Elliott looked at Ellen. “What is going on with him?”
“Frank . . . he’s . . .”
“Ryder,” Frank raged back and stuck his head into the lab. “Meteor strategy meeting in one hour. Don’t blow it off.”
Watc
hing Frank leave, and still confused, Elliott returned to Ellen. “Is he all right? Maybe he’s really stressed?”
“He’s perfectly fine,” Ellen spoke calmly and smiled. “Why in the world would you ask?”
^^^^
If breaths of relief were measured in velocity, Hal released a tornado of an exhale when he walked into the Communications Room with Danny. “Finally.” He gave toss of his keys with a jingle then placed them in his pocket. “Anything, Len?” He asked the Communication man.
“Nothing. All is quiet. Is this my break?” Len stood up.
“Take a long one,” Hal instructed, “Mr. Hoi and myself have matters to discuss so we’ll hang out here.”
“Great. Thanks.” Smiling, Len hurried and left his post just in case Hal pulled a Frank and changed his mind.
Hal pulled out a chair and slowly sat. “I thought Frank’s meteor meeting would never end.”
“It was interesting,” Danny stated as he sat also.
Hal just looked at him.
“No, really, it was. Hey, Hal? Do you think a meteor is actually coming on February 28th?”
Hal’s mouth dropped open. “Good Lord, Danny. No, I don’t think a meteor is actually coming on February 28th. Do not tell me you do.”
“I didn’t at first, but . . .”
“Frank claims a psychic vision,” Hal said.
“But Dean confirmed it.”
“Oh, yes, that’s a reliable source. Dean.”
“He’s our top scientist.”
“He’s also Frank’s friend and encourages this behavior from Frank because he finds it amusing. And what was up with the roughage comments from my brother? No.” Hal shook his head. “It’s not happening. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”
“No, it really doesn’t.” Danny replied. “Plus Dr. Godrichson was at the meeting giving details.”
“It’s a scientist thing. Dr. Godrichson was amusing himself as well.”
“He had charts and he mentioned how he had to watch it more closely.”
“He is also the man that agreed with Frank that they should get a space crew together, go up in the shuttle, and blow it up.” Hal nodded. “Let’s not forget, the viable option that if they can’t get the shuttle working, they just . . .” Hal fluttered his lips. “Go back in time and find Ronald Regan. He’d believe them, they’d help him out with Star Wars and in exchange, he helps destroy the meteor long before it becomes a threat. And what happened after that suggestion? The men . . . applauded.”
Danny shrugged. “I’m just not dismissing it.”
“You do what you want. There is a lot to concern ourselves with. We have the killer babies who get violent should their deer feast, thanks to Sgt. Ryder, not arrive by six pm, a darting in wandering Savage here and there, and remaining SUTs from the Society’s last attempt. Should the vote not go her way, Ellen is leaving. And this, this plan must get started should I want to begin the move in April.”
“Joe hasn’t approved an offensive move and you know it.”
“He’s going to have to, Danny,” Hal said. “A peaceful existence will last for how long? Besides, do we really want to live in a country where we are not free to roam? I don’t think so. I don’t. I want to start planning our strategic attacks. We have enough to start and we’ll pick up more men, I’m certain. I want to start these hits and free this country again. That’s the only way.”
“Somehow I feel as if I should have been singing the national anthem while you said that.”
Hal smiled. “Not just yet.” He winked. “Elliott Ryder assured me he is working on a new one and knowing Elliott, I will gather it’s brilliant.”
“Speaking of our illustrious third Council member, where is he?” Danny asked.
“This is more top of the chain secret meeting, Danny. I have to see that this will work prior to informing my father of our doings. If you don’t want to cross any trusted boundaries, I would understand if you did not want to participate.”
“Nah.” Danny shook his head. “After thinking about it all last night, I agree. This should be done.”
No sooner did Danny finish speaking, the Communications Room door buzzed and opened.
Robbie walked in with Jess Boyens behind him. “Hey.” Robbie shut the door. “Sorry we’re late. I got held up. How’s my arm coming, Danny?”
“Slow but good.”
Hal stood up. “Jess.” He extended his hand to Jess. “Glad you agreed.”
“Hal,” Jess exhaled. “I’ll do anything to not leave, even if it means leaving for a little bit. As long as I know this is home, I’m good.”
“It is.” Hal smiled. “This is just a simple initiative. You know what we discussed. Come in.” Hal held out his hand. “Have a seat.”
Jess followed the lead.
“Say, Hal?” Robbie questioned. “I’m taking it Dad doesn’t know about this. Do you think you should be doing this?”
So perturbed and offended at the same time, Hal faced Robbie with a huff. “Little brother, our father, our leader, is ill. He’s taken absence for at least a week. Who did he pass his authority unto?”
“You,” Robbie answered.
“Exactly. I am in charge of Bowman, Beginnings, and Jordan. Danny is second. We decided on this. Dad will just have to deal with it. Hal lifted his finger. “Just don’t say anything.” He walked over to Jess.
Jess sat down and watched Hal push the phone to him.
Hal leaned closer. “You know what to do. We aren’t sure whether George knows about Bev. I don’t believe he does. Either my nephew did not survive to tell him or something is holding that information back. Should President Hadley give any indication that he hasn’t a clue his daughter is dead, end transmission. Got that?”
“Yes.” Jess nodded and picked up the phone.
“Danny.” Hal gave a ‘ready’ look to him. “Dial.” He watched Danny dial the phone then Hal picked up the monitoring line and listened.
Jess’ heart pounded with each ring of the phone. When the voice answered, he didn’t know what to make of it. Was it a husky woman or a man with a bad cold? On her answer, Jess suddenly lost his breath.
“Hello?” Bertha repeated.
She heard another breath as if this was an obscene phone call.
“I’ve been warned, you know,” she said. “If this is that Robbie person, I won’t find amusement in you and your Simpson cartoon sense of crank call humor.”
Slowly, Hal lifted his eyes and looked at Robbie.
Robbie stood confused and shook his head in question on why his brother stared at him.
“No,” Jess voice cracked. “It’s not Robbie. I couldn’t talk for a second.”
“Who is this?”
“Boyens. Jess Boyens.”
“Hold on.”
Jess closed his eyes. As if he weren’t nervous enough, he had to wait.
On the other hand, Hal kept a stare on Robbie.
“What?” Robbie whispered. “What did I do?”
Hal covered the receiver and spoke in a whisper as well. “Bart Simpson? Grow up.” He shook his head and removed his hand.
“Boyens,” George’s crass voice rang through. “Tell me what’s up.”
Jess lifted his eyes to Hal. “The West Land ridge is guarded.”
George let out a sound of relief. “It’s good to hear from you. I was worried.”
“I’ve been hospitalized. This is the first opportunity I’ve had.”
“No problems, I hope.”
“I was badly burned in an explosion. I’m still . . . I’m still healing.”
“Sorry to hear that. How long until you’re in full force?” George asked.
“Another week or so. Listen, President Hadley.” Jess watched Hal give a ‘cut it’ signal, and then he spoke quickly as if he were rushing. “I can’t talk. I snuck in here to make this . . .”
“I understand.”
“Communications may be tight. They have to be. There’s an all out call a
nd things are coming down tight and strong as they look for any other infiltrators.”
“So you have to stay under wraps?”
“Yes. Just know I’m here and ready. Someone’s coming,” Jess spoke rapidly.
“Can you start logging?”
“Someone’s coming,” Jess spoke even faster.
“Yes or no.”
“Yes. Shit.” Jess hung up.
So did Hal. “Excellent,” he told Jess.
“Anything about Bev?” Danny asked.
Hal shook his head. “No. If he asks, we have to end transmission. Jess cannot tell him.”
“I’m curious,” Danny asked. “What about when George finds out? How are we going to get him to accept Jess back to the Society if Jess never told him about Bev?”
Hal lifted his hands. “Why would Jess tell him about Bev? Hmm?” Hal indicated to his own temple. “Think about it. Johnny left. Jess assumed George knew.”
Jess finally moved his hand from the base of the phone. “What now?”
“In a few days, you’ll call again. Ask what type of info he wants logged and then end the call. We can play with this ‘end call thing for a while,” Hal answered.
Robbie took a step forward. “How are you gonna pull this off, Hal?” Robbie questioned. “Doyle defected. Doyle told us he handpicked Jess. George is gonna get suspicious if nothing happens but quickly ended calls.”
“Robert,” Hal spoke smoothly and stood up. “Have you confused me with the less intelligent Slagel brother, Frank?” Hal chuckled. “You don’t believe I have already thought of that. Jess will give information but nothing valuable. He must to keep George’s trust. Jess will also tell George that Doyle is not a true defector. That is until Jess finds out the truth that Doyle was only pretending to still be working for the Society in order to ensure Jess’s Caceres Loyalty. At that point, Jess is turned in to my father which causes Jess to flee.”
“God.” Danny laughed. “It’s like a soap opera. Do you have this written down somewhere?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Hal pulled out a little note pad. “It’s right here.”
Robbie snickered. “Every fine detail. Well, I better get Jess back to Containment before he’s missed.” He opened the Communications door and peeked out. “Jess?”
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 248