Targeting the Telomeres, A Thriller

by R. N. Shapiro

  "Don’t see Kyle much anymore, but he goes over there and teaches music. I'd like to know how the hell she ends up with the farm and he ends up teaching messed-up kids there. That’s him gettin’ the shaft and her getting’ the whole mine.”

  “Reminds me of my girl Erika and her dolls. She loved Barbies when she was, what, seven, maybe eight. One of her Barbies was talking back to the rest of them one day, so she took it and put it in the freezer for a few days to teach her a lesson. I think someone oughta put that Michaels girl’s ass in a deep freeze like Erika’s damn doll."

  "You got some mighty strong views about her. She did start that place for people like my nephew," the biker says, mildly defending Amanda even though he’s never met her.

  "What good does that do for anybody in Middleburg, having them treated over there instead of at the hospital? No offense man. I can tell you I ain't winnin’ no popularity contests around here anyway. They all fought me like hell when I tried to open my tattoo joint here in their highfalutin’ horse country."

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  “Not breaking any records on sales, but tats are pickin' up in popularity, even with them e-ques-tree-an types. I notice you got a couple on your biceps,” gesturing toward the biker’s arms just below his shirt sleeves.

  He decides not to explain his tattoos, though he knows that’s what the old guy wants.

  "You ever talk to the girl yourself?"

  "I got nuthin' to say to her. She ain't never been in my shop. Probably thinks she's above me."

  The biker spits some brown liquid into a small plastic cup he picked up somewhere, presumably at the smoke shop. "How far is it from here?"

  "About a mile. Make a right up there at the end of the street, then make the second left and follow it down and you'll see it on the left side. Guess I shouldn’t a said all that stuff since you got a relative in there, but everyone here knows I don’t filter nuthin’.”

  “No offense taken. Take it easy.”

  He tosses the plastic cup into a trashcan, straps on his helmet, starts up his bike, and heads down the road, wondering if he’ll feel the same way about Amanda Michaels.

  Chapter 62

  Uncle Phil

  He rides the Harley up the two-lane road to Crossroads Farm, noticing the occupied but unmarked SUV parked at the end of the driveway. A couple miles past the entrance, he locates a spot to park on the side of the road. After studying the map on his phone, he takes a few items out of his saddlebags and enters the dense forest surrounding the property on foot. A sturdy old oak with a wide trunk catches his eye. Within minutes, he is perched high in the tree with a direct line of sight to the farmhouse and rehab facility. Through his binoculars he sees another male, who he quickly concludes is FBI, standing in the driveway not far from the house. One by the entrance, one close to her at all times. About 30 minutes later he observes his mark, Amanda Michaels, walking with a woman who appears to be some kind of nurse, along with the same young man she had been escorting around during his prior surveillance visit. One day spent surveilling the facility as a fake sprinkler and irrigation system worker had paid immense dividends. Feigning work on sprinkler heads while Amanda had escorted Dexter around outside and to the horse stables provided the intel Ty Ryan needed to acquire the patient’s name.

  When he returns the next day, he parks his motorcycle by the rehab facility and checks in at the front desk before approaching the male patient he surveilled before.

  "Hey Dex, it's been a while. I’m Uncle Phil, remember?”

  The man goes in for a hug, and Dex wraps his arms around him, seeming to confirm their closeness.

  "How’ve you been? Is everything good here?"

  "I'm a captain, did you know that? My ship’s out there. I'll take you on it.”

  "I'd love to go on your ship sometime. Maybe I could give you a ride on my bike too. Is Amanda coming by today?"

  "Amanda's my best friend. She takes me out and shows me things. She takes me to the horses, she walks me down through the woods. She's my booty booty," Dex gushes proudly.

  Dex yells across the room to the aide at the reception desk. “Where's Amanda? She comin’ today?"

  The woman looks up, then gets out of her chair and walks toward them. "I don't know, Dex."

  "Can't you ask her to come over, please?”

  "I guess I can ask, but only for you, Dex."

  The nurse walks back to her station and texts Amanda.

  Dex plays checkers well. Sometimes. Other times he executes completely inappropriate moves, like trying to move sideways instead of diagonally, for no good reason. Uncle Phil looks up from their game to see Amanda enter the room with one of the men he saw during his recon the day before. The agent eyes the new visitor with Dex, but stays near the door as Amanda begins to walk toward them.

  "Hi there, I'm Amanda Michaels.”

  "Yes, I'm Phil, Uncle Phil.”

  "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. Dex is one of my favorite patients. We've gotten acquainted over the last few weeks.”

  Amanda takes a seat at the table where the men had been playing. Dex loses interest in their conversation and wanders off to find a game console and play Super Smash Brothers.

  "Look, I'm not Dex's uncle,” Uncle Phil whispers.

  Amanda starts to panic and looks anxiously toward the agent.

  "Don't get up, please, everything’s okay. And it took a lot to get in here. My name is Ty Ryan, I'm a former Navy SEAL. I know your dad’s still alive and doing research for the government. After the plane crash, I was kidnapped by the Chinese and released later under whatever deal the U.S. cut. The government didn’t tell me anything, I gathered all my information from other sources. What I don't know is why you're being protected by the FBI or why our government paid over $200 million to Hemispheres, do you?”

  "How'd you get in here? I mean if you're not Dex's uncle—”

  "Don't worry about it. What's this I hear about your dad disappearing?"

  “What? How did you hear about my dad?”

  “I told you, I have my sources. I know about Justin too.”

  Amanda eyes Ryan warily. There's no question the man in front of her is rock solid, despite his unkempt appearance. She looks at his arms and notices the ripple of muscles along his biceps. Maybe he was special forces, maybe a SEAL.

  “If you won’t answer how you got in, how about telling me why you came here.”

  "Let's just say I was curious about you. And for some crazy-ass reason I was thinking about offering you my services. For a fee, of course.”

  “I don’t believe you. And even if I did, it wouldn't be logical for you to show up here. Who are you working for?"

  "You can call the Navy Special Warfare Command in California and ask them about Ty Ryan. They’ll confirm I’m who I say I am. As for logic…it’s never really been my strong suit. Soldier of fortune is closer to the proper description.”

  "Look, all kinds of people have approached me because they heard about me surviving the crash. You could be an ax murderer for all I know." She stands up. “There's an FBI agent standing right over there, and I think I need to go talk to him."

  “Whoah! Please sit back down, Amanda. Sure, everyone knows your story, but how many people know your dad's alive and he recently disappeared?"

  Amanda sits back down, slowly. "Who sent you? Are you holding my dad? Or my brother?”

  “I’m not working for anyone now, I guess you could say I’m a free agent. I came here because I want to help you find them."

  "And you’re not with the government?”

  "Far from it. Never worked for the FBI or the CIA, and I left the SEALs years ago. Look, I'm damn good at what I do, and I know the Chinese government sabotaged the jet. I have a feeling they're behind your dad disappearing too."

  Now that part may be true. Amanda finds herself believing him, although she can’t quite decide why. “Convince me you’re not FBI or working for someone involved with nabbing my brother.”


  “Look, I do private investigation work. On one of my jobs I came across some evidence suggesting the U.S. paid Hemispheres a hefty amount of cash, and it’s been bothering the hell out of me ever since.” Ryan decides not to say anything about working for Franklin. “That’s what motivated me to come meet you.”

  Amanda hesitantly opens up. “I got a message from Dad. I think he's alive, and I have to believe my real brother is too, somewhere…"

  Amanda starts to tear up, but wrestles her emotions back under control. She turns to check on Dex, who remains engrossed in his game.

  "Your real brother?” Ryan is taken aback by this new information.

  "Yeah. My dad’s note said he ran a blood test on the boy he's been raising for the last year, and he’s definitely not Justin. And my dad knows a thing or two about genetic research."

  “But you think your actual brother’s still alive?”

  “Definitely. Whoever kidnapped him is probably using him to get at my dad.”

  “What’s so important about your dad’s research that operatives would kill for it?”

  Amanda won’t give this information up, for all she knows Ryan is working for a foreign agency. “I don’t know all the reasons, and the ones I do know I’m not sharing with you.”

  Ryan thinks for a moment. Between his own curiosity and the prospect of getting paid, he decides he doesn’t want to lose this opportunity. Besides, he can always raise this issue again later. “I’ll do some homework and see what I can find out about ‘em.”

  “That would be great, thanks. How do I get in touch with you?"

  Ryan takes out a pen and scratches down a phone number.

  “Don't call me on your cell in case it’s being monitored. Use one of the landlines in here.”

  “Not to be rude or anything, but why do you think you can do a better job of finding them than the CIA or FBI?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve developed some skills since I left the SEALs, but I’m not promising anything. Don’t tell anyone, not even your uncle, or the feds will do everything they can to shut me down. I’m not exactly high on their list of favorite people. Remember, I’m not doing this out of the kindness of my heart, I expect to be paid. My services are unique, and damn valuable.”

  Amanda starts to tell Ryan not to boss her around, she can and will talk to whoever she wants, but she stops because she knows he’s right. Instead, she gets up and walks across the room toward Dex.

  Ryan has followed her over to Dex and starts chatting with him. Amanda wonders about Uncle Phil, whether his aim is true or not, and walks out of the center, lost in thought. Ryan watches her leave, thinking how rude it was of her to simply walk out. He quickly says his goodbyes to Dex and heads out the entrance to find her but she’s gone.

  Chapter 63

  Convincing

  The next morning, Amanda visits with Dex, and after a decent interval of time she calls Ryan from a landline. He agrees to come visit that afternoon, about 3:00 p.m. Her curiosity about Ryan and what he could accomplish was like a powerful magnet attracting her attention.

  Amanda returns to the rec room a little after 3:00 p.m. and sits beside “Uncle Phil” after greeting Dex, who momentarily drops his controller and hollers “Jenna! Jenna!” He gets his hug from her and immediately re-immerses himself in the game. Phil continues to play with Dex while he and Amanda talk.

  "I don't believe the FBI or the CIA are making any progress. According to Solarez they’re all over it, checking every Chinese diplomatic post. They are looking for any child matching Justin’s description. You’d think a Caucasian kid would stick out like a sore thumb among of bunch of Asian diplomats. But he says they’re focused on China, mainly Beijing.”

  Ryan whispers to Amanda, who somehow manages to keep playing the video game and never comments. When she is finished, he finally speaks.

  “So, lets assume he’s in China, could you get us in, find my brother, and then get us all back out? Everything will be in lockdown with the North Korean leader’s upcoming visit with the Chinese premier. We have to escape alive, with a child."

  “Nice move Dex, you’re the man!” Ryan says.

  “You’re the man, yes Dex, you’re the man,” Dex repeats loudly. “Jenna, we play next, right?”

  “Maybe Dex, we’ll see.”

  She turns back to eye Ryan.

  “I thought you’d be willing to do anything to get your brother back? And its only money. I thought you had plenty now….” Ryan doesn’t turn, doesn’t even look her in the eye.

  Amanda shoots a searing glare at Ryan, who won’t meet her glare.

  “How much money?” She asks him.

  "A million." He says matter of factly. "It's just money. I wouldn’t hesitate to pay it get my baby brother back. I mean if I had one. Three-quarters up front, the rest when Justin is safely out of China.”

  Ryan goes back to playing the video game, he can tell Amanda’s mental wheels are turning.

  Finally some real cash. But it won't do me much good if I'm dead, he reasons. Liza would be the perfect connection once I’m in China. And with logistical plans. What would her logistical services cost, $100,000? Probably more since I’ll need weapons, safe houses, and untraceable transportation of some sort. More like $150,000 or 200,000.

  “Is the fee the same if I go with you?” Amanda asks.

  “It should be higher.”

  “Assume I’m comin’ with you.”

  “We’ll see. Same fee, but I wanna check out your skills, and maybe teach you a few. Not a word about this to anyone. No internet searching either, I assume it’s being monitored. You read me? I’ll be in touch very soon. I have solid connections inside China, but we need to develop a plan that could succeed.”

  “Dex, Jenna will play you now, but she’s definitely no match for the man. Come give Uncle Phil a hug please, I have to go.”

  Chapter 64

  Ocean City

  In Ocean City, Maryland, southeast of Annapolis, four men book a room at a no-name three-star hotel a couple blocks from the harbor. Two of them venture out well after dark and find the scuba boat. The engine department is cramped, smelly and hot, so they move on to Plan B. The flat cushions forming the aft and starboard bunk bow each hide storage compartments large enough to hold a person laying down. They drill several one-inch holes in the wood covers before replacing the cushions and returning to their room.

  Per their arrangement with the Ocean City Dive Club, the men are waiting on the dock at 7:00 a.m. They will be exploring the Kathleen Riggin shipwreck site 12 miles off shore. A small clammer, the Kathleen Riggin sank after a huge swell capsized it in November, 1991. The three men presented the advanced certifications required for a cold-water, open-ocean dive to the dive master a couple days before.

  A brilliant sun has risen in the deep blue sky over the harbor. The dozens of boats in the marina create a cacophony of metallic chiming as lines tap against the masts and booms, and flags wave back and forth in the blustery, shifting winds.

  "Can we help you with anything?" Riess, one of the three men, calls out as he and the others watch the captain and the first mate busily organizing the wet suits, fins and masks.

  “Nope, we’ve got everything lined up. It should be a great day," the captain replies. “So, you guys in school at the Naval Academy?"

  "Myself and Barber here are visiting instructors. Paul’s my friend and one excellent diving partner. We've dived wrecks in the Caribbean and were looking for something interesting to do here. I heard you sometimes see sharks?"

  "Occasional black tips, duskies, sharpnose and sandbar sharks,” the first mate says. “All kinds of fish hang out in the wreck, so lets hope for some good visibility."

  When the boat finally arrives at the dive site, a series of buoys are placed as the ship trolls through the moderately choppy water. There's almost no other nautical activity, with the exception of one fishing boat nearby. The men can make out one or two fishermen in their seats near the stern
of the boat. Once everything is organized, the captain asks the men to give their attention to Bobby, the first mate, while he goes over the safety instructions.

  After the protocols are reviewed, Jones suddenly announces, "Guys, I feel like death warmed over."

  Riess is irked. "We paid all this money to come out here and you don't feel well? You're still diving with us, aren't you?"

  "This is the first time I’ve ever been seasick. I hate to do it, but I’m gonna pass.” Jones dejectedly holds on to the starboard side of the boat with both hands and watches the water, giving the impression he might vomit at any moment.

  "Are you sure?" Barber asks him. “What if we cut our dive short and come back to check on you? Maybe you'll feel better after a while?”

  "If you want to come back and check on me that’s fine, but I doubt I’ll be joining you. I’ll stay here with the captain."

  When it appears there's nothing more they can do for Jones, the first mate, Riess and Barber finish gearing up, drop to the swim platform and make their way into the ocean.

  “How about a ginger ale?” the captain suggests, “might help you feel better."

  "Sure, thanks."

  The captain heads to the rear of the open deck, flips open a large white cooler and pulls a ginger ale out of the ice before closing the lid and walking back over to Jones. After he hands the can to his queasy passenger, he saunters over to his chair and assumes his normal position, splaying one of his legs on top of the instrument dash and opening a newspaper. Jones tells him he's going below to use the head. Once out of sight, he lifts one of the berth cushions.