Alana smiled at him, as if she knew something he didn’t. Alana came over to Adam, took both his hands in hers, looked into his eyes, and said “No chance you get rid of me that easy, mister. I’m here for the duration.”
Adam smiled. He didn’t want to lose Alana, but she and Edmund needed the opportunity to back out.
“You’re sure? Maybe you should think this through for a couple of days and decide then. And, you know, talk to your father.”
Alana gave Adam a peck on the cheek, then said, “Which do you think poses a more serious and imminent threat to me and dad, this Gens Collective, who knows nothing about me, or the five or six terrorist groups out there who have a bounty on my head and my dad’s? Mine for sure. I know you feel responsible for me and my dad, I get that. But between the bounties and the guys who raped me, I’m guessing both have the means and the desire to kill me. But instead of keeping myself locked up in my condo in San Diego waiting for a knock on the door, I can live here in Barrows Bay where I know I am as safe as I can possibly be. You, Misti, your Dad, Rod and Cindy when they’re home, and a couple of FBI and other miscellaneous Canadian agents who’re watching over me 24/7, make me as safe as a girl can possibly be. Where would I go? Where would Dad and I go that’s safer than here?”
“Seclusion, I guess. Hide out somewhere until things cool down.”
“I’d like to know where that is. And how long would it take to ‘cool down’. Probably never. The FBI offered to put us in some high security living situation a few years back. A military base somewhere in the Midwest. I would work for them and eventually die a spinster. No life, no nothing. But I’d be safe. That’s just me warehousing myself until I die. No thanks.”
“You’d be alive.”
“No, I’d be dead. I just wouldn’t know the exact date of death. Besides, I like it here. I like it anywhere you and Misti decide we will live. I feel safe with you. I am safe with you. Besides the sex is adequate and you’re both kinda cute.”
Alana smiled, trying to show a brave face.
Alana didn’t feel brave, though. But neither was she afraid. If her present situation was the best she could do, she was over-the-top happy with her new life. Her previous life had been nightmares and fear, a daily dread that never eased up. She never felt safe, never felt secure. And, she was lonely. She needed a relationship of some sort, some semblance of living, really living in the world occupied by the rest of humanity.
In her mind, zombies do exist; she had been one of them. Neither alive nor dead, just existing without anything more meaningful than work. That wasn’t the life she had planned for herself. Alana didn’t think it was asking too much to have a man in her life and the hope of a family. She wanted kids, girls if she could manufacture a few.
Girls to raise out in the open, in the daylight and who would always be happy, loved and protected.
***
“OK then,” Adam said. “Are we done here for the day?”
Alana came right up to Adam, holding his hands once again.
“Two things. First, are you and your Dad still going down to San Diego? With your friend Carlos?”
“We are. And soon. Should be gone in about a week. We got the FBI and police reports. We know who he and his buddies are. You heard the voices we taped. I assume you still think it was him? And them?”
“I do. I could never forget those voices, even if he and his friends covered their faces. It was them.”
“Then we go. Soon. I don’t want to worry you, but your Dad insists on going, although he won’t be directly involved in doing any, you know, of the mean stuff with us.”
“Why’s he going then?”
“Moral support I guess. Curiosity. Satisfaction. Someone hurt his little girl; he wants to be a part of the resolution of the matter. Can’t say I blame him. Talk to him if you like. Just not a word to Misti.”
“That won’t go well. You know that, right? She’ll lose it with both of us and Edward will get some of her wrath when he tells her.”
“Then let’s not tell her.”
“Excellent plan. Now how do you explain four men going to San Diego unannounced and in secret? One of whom is her husband. Sunday brunch at the big Hotel Resort on Coronado? She’ll figure out something is going on. Then she’ll go insane.”
“Can’t help it. She cannot be a part of this. Not part of the plan.”
“OK, mums the word then.” Alana came close. “Now, mister I have one more item on the agenda. You owe me some…”
“Nag, nag, nag. Now what?”
“This should only take a minute.”
Adam smiled a broad grin. “Maybe two. No hurry, right?”
“If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well. Now, where were we?”
Chapter 47
The man stood in the southwest corner of his southwest corner office in the tallest building in downtown San Diego. The view was spectacular looking out toward the Bay, naval vessels moored in a neat row, and the shoreline of Coronado Island in plain view on clear days. Beyond the eastern Coronado Island shoreline nestled in the picturesque, and beautiful residential neighborhoods was the grand old hotel built in the early part of the twentieth century, featuring a magnificent Sunday brunch. In years gone by, a harpist stationed high above the restaurant floor played music no one heard as the murmurs of hushed conversations echoed in the grand hall of ancient parquet wood floors.
He was born and bred in San Diego, and he loved the city more deeply than a man ought to. From the beach cities north of Del Mar, south to the Mexican border to the valley bisected by I-8 east of the downtown core, to Old Town and La Jolla just off the I-5, he loved every neighborhood and the little towns that comprised the greater urban area. Back in the 70’s a local radio station pressed vinyl with songs written by locals extolling the virtues of Chula Vista, Pacific Beach and Ocean Beach.
He still went to the over-the-line tournament every summer with teams bearing names that couldn’t be repeated on air by local TV stations. He camped in the mountains east of the city and drove his dune buggy in the deserts further over the mountains near El Centro. He had occasionally seen amphibious landings staged by the Marine Corps on the shores of the Pacific in the massive military base known a Camp Pendleton.
His Dad had done his boot camp just off Rosecrans Boulevard before shipping out to Vietnam back in the day. When he came home from his one and only thirteen-month tour, stationed in Da Nang, he decided that San Diego, and San Diego County would make him a wealthy man. He met a girl, a recent graduate of San Diego State College, not yet a University, who originally hailed from Omaha, Nebraska. She loved him and smoking pot. They married two years later, and their only child was the man looking out over the city.
The man, tall and handsome, serious and second-generation wealthy, had a close relationship with his extended family, most of whom now lived in the area. His dad had overworked himself, dedicating himself more to creating wealth than his own fitness and health; he was eventually laid to rest in the military cemetery on Point Loma on the way to Cabrillo Point.
Most days he was like his father, up early working long hours and keeping to rigid schedules that left his non-existent social life a mere afterthought. His closest friends were three chums he met in college at UCSD. They had but a few things in common besides their alma mater, and his one and only hobby, perhaps avocation, was one of them.
One of the things they didn’t have in common with him was a wife. The three friends of Christopher Madson III had married after college, and were now raising families, while Madson had remained single. The wives thought he was too prissy, and metrosexual to be straight; they had surmised that he must still be in the closet.
Today he was dressed in a hand-made, custom tailored bespoke grey suit from one of the finest European tailors now residing in the United States. Though a long-time resident of New York City, the tailor was intermittently flown at great expense to California several times a
year to service a select clientele from San Ysidro in the south to the Oregon border in the far north.
His dress shirts were custom made of the finest Egyptian cotton, monogrammed and fitted for the 18 karat gold cufflinks bearing his initials. His ties were expensive, hand-made silk and the latest fashion crafted in Italy. His shoes were custom made in London, as were the suspenders he fancied. He never wore belts, a habit he adopted from watching his father.
His office furniture reflected his taste in clothes and tailors, was likewise hideously expensive, old and with very special provenance that could be traced back several hundred years. All told, he presented a façade of wealth, and success unequalled by many. His charitable activities were extensive, his only other non-business-related passion.
Beneath this sham exterior lay the real man. Like his father before him, he concealed dark secrets. Secrets that he assiduously kept hidden from all those around him save three.
Except for his close personal friends who traveled with him every other month to the corporate retreat in the remote reaches of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
It hadn’t always been thus; in the beginning, when they were inexperienced, they worked locally in a space his father had once used. But he had wanted a special facility, a place with all the electronics he had fallen in love with, together with other special equipment he needed for purposes related to his hobby.
While he most often travelled with his buddies, he occasionally went solo. Over time his excursions with his friends became less frequent while his lone wolf episodes began to markedly increase. He had begun life in the regular way but, was evolving slowly over time into something else. Evolving into something even he couldn’t name; something monstrous and evil. But things seemed to just happen, and newer more extreme variables surfaced. He didn’t know why, only that he seemed powerless to curb his impulse to act them out.
Even when he was alone, he still had wide ranging assistance. The finest consultants from an immense variety of fields were retained, and employed to accomplish anything he wanted, needed or desired. They never knew the real purpose of their engagements, only that he paid well and required absolute privacy and secrecy.
He was taught photography and videography by experts along with all the latest computer programs for digital manipulation of images and settings. In another life, he might’ve made a promising film editor. In this life, his hobby had become as all-consuming as his imagination and his pressing need to satisfy urges that weren’t easily or ever fully satisfied. The road he walked was long and crooked, a never- ending road that led nowhere. In the meantime, there was always another whistle stop along the way.
If he was anything like his own father, he would continue along his path until just before he died. There would be a lot of casualties along the way. Immense pain and horror would be an inevitable by-product of his predilections.
And, he kept trophies. Lots of trophies.
Most he kept in Michigan; some he kept at home. In San Diego, California.
***
Maria invited Edward, Adam, Bethy and Edmund to her home. Agustin was also present; it was his idea to call this coven together. None of the ladies, nor Rod and Cindy, had any awareness of the real subject matter to be discussed that evening. Certainly, Mark and Julia would never have approved.
Adam and Edward could’ve cared less. Mark and Julia were even less than an afterthought when it came to the task at hand. Edward was involved because Adam asked him to be. Adam was involved because of the images he could never erase from his mind.
“Edward, I know I have often chastised you in the past for your … special activities. I have been critical of both you and your friend, Carlos the felon, and objected to the things you have asked our son Adam to do. I must say I don’t regret any of my past diatribes. But this time even I must admit that we have no alternative, under the circumstances, but to act.
“I am asking you,” she continued “no, I’m begging you to resolve this situation. And as quickly as you can, not just for the women whose lives you will save, but for all the women who have suffered at the hands of this monster. This isn’t just me talking. Everyone here agrees.”
Edward and Adam got up, ready to leave for Blaine to pick up the third member of their secular congregation. Edmund would come along, as it concerned him greatly. Adam, however, had made it abundantly clear he couldn’t assist. Not in any way; neither could he be anywhere near the epicenter of activity. His sole purpose for attending was to be there. And to be their collective alibi.
Maria paused.
“And Edward, one more thing.”
“Yes.”
“You must tie up all the loose ends. All of them. That includes the three amigos in his coffee klatch. They all must die. And we all would appreciate it if you would show them the same level of mercy they showed their victims. Do you understand precisely what I, we, are requesting?”
“Pretty sure.”
“We’d appreciate photographic evidence if you don’t mind.”
“Anything for family.”
Edward, Adam and Edmund left immediately without so much as a word to Misti. That she would lose it on their return, if not well before, was a given. That she was to be excluded would infuriate her; her forgiveness for her father, her mentor and her husband wouldn’t be forthcoming anytime soon. Others would feel her ire too, commencing as soon as she became aware that part of her tribe was missing. Her sense of betrayal toward her father would be especially difficult to countenance. As to Edward, she would have nothing to say.
But especially as to Adam, things would be very strained. Even Adam had no clue how angry she would be or how her reaction would manifest. Misti was complex, and nuanced, and her darker side had never yet been fully put to the test. Edward had never allowed it.
Adam however had his marching orders. That he knew Misti wouldn’t believe or accept his reasons and explanations was of little import. Not in the context of a larger Universe she couldn’t even begin to understand.
Misti was wrong. He would eventually help her come to see the truth of his experience. Just not right then. Just not right away.
But soon enough she would fulfill her calling, understand why Adam had done as he had done and forgive him for protecting what was to become her true destiny.
Misti would never have the stain of murder on her soul. Only Adam knew why.
Chapter 48
Six weeks earlier.
Adam awoke at his usual time, made coffee and went down to his secure office in the basement. He had some things he needed to discuss with Alana and hoped to catch her first thing, as soon as she arrived. As he opened the secure outer door to the two offices, he noticed Alana was already up and at work at her bank of computers. She had a yellow pad on the desk, just to the side of her wireless keyboard. She was slightly reclined in her custom-made ergonomic chair, a vestige of her earlier career spending eighteen hours a day in front of one or more computer screens.
Adam knocked gently on her door, already opened a crack to the tiny hallway between offices. Alana was getting along well emotionally, doing better every day, but Adam was careful not to startle her with his silent approach.
“Anyone home in there?” Adam said.
“Just us mice,” was Alana’s reply.
“You’re at it early this morning,” Adam said. “Working on anything interesting?”
“Just the usual. Edward had a few items he wanted me to run down. Then there was the thing you wanted. Still thinking about him I assume.”
“Yes. We’ve identified him to a virtual certainty. Now we just want additional confirmation before it’s a go. You can give us that.”
“And if I don’t want you to do this. If I sincerely believe it’s just too risky? No longer worth exposing four wonderful men about whom I care and love?”
“We’re way past that now. I would be lying if I said this isn’t about you. It is. But from what we have learne
d recently, it’s way more than just you. You must know that too. There are dozens of women that he has … disappeared. Viciously. Cruelly. There may be hundreds more if he isn’t stopped.”
“Can’t you just turn over what you have to the cops? The FBI? Shouldn’t they be handling this now?”
“Maybe. I guess. But that’s a crap shoot. This way we know for sure. No clever lawyers, no technicalities, and no possibility of an incompetent prosecutor. And no testimony from Alana McCarthy.”
“Adam, I wish you wouldn’t do this. Not for me. I’m safe now. I’m with you and Misti. And Edward, and Rod and Cindy. Plus, all the other armed young men running around the campus of the Institute. He will never have a chance to get anywhere near me.”
“But he will always be out there. If he’s free and rich, which I now know he is, he may try to find a way. He’s obviously not a well-balanced guy, so if he begins to obsess …”
“You think I’m in danger here? Really?”
“No, I don’t. Not here, not now. But sometime in the future? There’s only one way we can ever be sure. And by ‘we’ I mean you and me. But I also mean everyone in this family. It’s the one thing we take deadly serious because of what we do. Because of what we have done. We have and always will have enemies. Enemies who want to do us harm. We have a way of dealing with that in the clan here; you’re a part of us now. There’s just not much more to consider.”
“I know. I do. I just wish there was another way. If you do this thing, I assume you won’t let Misti help. Is that still the plan?”
“Yeah, that’s still the plan.”
“You understand how that’s going to end, right?”
“Of course. It’ll go poorly for all of us including you. She’ll be … unhappy with us all for a while. In fact, for quite a while.”
“You OK with that?”
“No, of course not. But it can’t be helped. It’s now out of my control, so why should I aggravate over it?”
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