by Shane Crosby
“I know a guy. He’s a doctor. We used to call on him if we needed to be patched up or if we needed an operative to stay alive until we could question him.”
“And, then kill him.”
“You did the same job I did. They just cloaked it in, for your country bullshit. Don’t try to act like you’re not the same hired killers that I am.”
“Whatever, what’s the plan.”
“Yeah, I thought so. Anyway, this doctor, I can contact him and he can hide us.”
“We don’t have a choice. Trevor can’t fight. We’re in a populate area. If they attack us here, there will be civilian causalities for certain. When can you call him?”
“Right now.”
“Call Mase, he has to be back by now.”
“I’m doing that now.”
“One other thing. The inspector left me a package. Ask Mase to pick it up.”
“Maybe he found something out.”
“I hope so.”
“If he didn’t tell them about the package, maybe he was tougher than we thought.”
“Let’s hope so and it’s not a trick.”
“Tell Mase to scan it for tracking devices or bomb activity.”
“Get everything packed up. Remove anything identifying.”
“On it.”
“After we leave here, life is going to change for us.”
“We know. Trevor is in trouble. Don is, too. So, there’s really no other choice.”
“We’ll leave as soon as we’re done.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE NEXT DAY
BUNKER
OUTSIDE OF BERLIN
Don
When we left my house, we were all on edge. We expected our enemies to be lying in wait to get rid of us. To our surprise and relief, we didn’t encounter any opposition while we were leaving.
The trip to the bunker took three hours; taking us near the French border. Hopefully, we’re far enough away from Berlin to throw them off.
From the contents of the package inspector Schmidt left for Trevor, it was clear he was serious about this case. There were pictures inside of the club showing people coming and going. Trevor recognized one person in the picture as the same owner he spoke with in Gochian. The remaining contents included a map from the dump site back to both of the clubs. Giving life to Trevor theory, that each dump site will have a club in that area somewhere.
Since Morris’ disappearance, I haven’t been able to think about him. The circumstances leading up to his disappearance I hold squarely on my shoulders. The guilt, at times, has felt unbearable. I’ve wished for months there was some way I could vindicate him and make it up to his family. It is in those moments I’m hit with the realization that the only way I could make it right with his family would be to bring their son back home the say he left.
Today, I’ve decided to push past those condemning voices and do what I can to find out what Morris was working on. He left me some information. The least I could do is locate it.
Don enters the room.
“You won’t believe this! The numbers Morris called.”
“What about them?”
“You’ll never guess who he was calling.”
“Enough of the guess this and that game.”
“Who was he calling?”
“The attorney general George Briggs! Okay, okay, listen.”
I dialed the number again and it went to his voicemail.
“Hello, you’ve reached the attorney general George Briggs I’m currently unavailable please leave a message and I’ll return your call as soon as I’m available. Thank you for calling.”
I hung up without leaving a message.
“See, I told you, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“What the heck is Morris doing calling the attorney general?”
“The Attorney General appointed to the President’s little round circle?”
“Yes, that Attorney General!”
“How have I worked this case a year and got nada, negative nada. You turn your phone on and you get a golden egg of a lead like this? I just can’t understand that.”
“Ha,ha! Don’t sweat it bro! I went to Sunday School more remember?”
“Oh here you go. Just because you went to Sunday School an extra Sunday every year so you could get a better birthday gift doesn’t mean you’re God’s favorite.”
“Well, I guess he didn’t get that memo. Do I need to remind you I’m the one who’s been given the monumental lead in this case? What you got so far?”
“Maybe I need to remind you that your lead is dead, literally.”
“This isn’t a lead, it’s another dead end.”
“Don’t count me out just yet. His wife is still alive. She may know something or can point us in the right direction.”
“I say we call her.”
“I say we go there.”
“Go where?”
“To D.C.”
“For what?”
“Man, you’ve always had a problem comprehending. Always on the short bus.”
“Shut up! I’m understanding just fine. Now answer my question. Why would we go to the states? We can’t just show up on her door.”
“Why can’t we? Why can’t we go to D.C., go to their house, knock on the door and see if she’ll talk to us.”
“I agree. What do we have to lose?”
“Nothing. I say we do it.”
“Trevor, you know you can’t go, right?”
“Yes. I know I have to stay here.”
“Mase will stay here with you.”
“Why do I always have to stay?”
“You don’t always have to stay. Stop whining like a little girl. I can’t believe they let some of you in the military.”
“Look at you. Walking off to cry I guess.”
“Hey leave him alone. We need to figure out a plan before we leave.”
“I have to check back in at the base and go to work. Let me know when I have to come back to baby sit.”
“Hey! I didn't ask you to stay.”
“Trevor stop acting like you don't need some backup. You're hurt. You need someone here with you.”
“Yeah, I know. I just hate staying behind. With all of the stuff they've thrown at us, we need more than Mase. He needs some help too.”
“True. I didn't think about it that way.”
“We have another brother, you know?”
“Let's think on it.”
“He may be the solution, Dub. Mase does need the help.”
“We can ask him.”
“I’ll give him a call.”
“Do we have a plan other than walk up to her door and knock?”
“That’s about it.”
“You two might as well stay here.”
“Have some faith Mase. Stop being a pessimist.”
“He is right. We need to think of something. She probably has security all around her.”
“We have time to plan something. No sense in driving ourselves crazy tonight.”
“Whatever we come up with, it better be good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
STATESIDE
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Don & Dub
We’d made the decision to go bac to the states, which meant getting on a plane. Since we were almost killed the last time, we all knew we needed to come up with a better way to fly. This is where our brother Scott comes into the picture. We asked him to use his connections to get us into the United States and out safely under the radar. As with us all, we’re always eager to help our brother. He jumped at the opportunity to help us and using an alternative method to fly the friendly skies was just a phone call away.
When we first arrived, we were filled with apprehension about what we’d encounter during our visit. We’d already lost enough and didn’t want to risk it all on something that had the very real possibility of walking away with nothing. Still, with all of our lives laid out neatly on the table of our enemies, we had no choice. It was a ch
ance we all knew we had to take.
On the first day, our plan was to approach Mrs. Briggs. But, in life, as you know, plans have a way of not working out as you’d hoped. And, ours fell short of anything we’d anticipated.
“This is the fourth day of surveillance and they’re still out here.”
“I didn’t expect them to go anywhere.”
“Who do you think they are?”
“Trying to figure that out myself. They’re certainly not connected to the government.”
“No, they wouldn’t hide their presence.”
“No, they wouldn’t. These people are something totally altogether different.”
“What do you think they want with her?”
“They don’t want her. I’m guessing, they want something from her. What that is, I have no clue.”
“Something form the Attorney General’s wife?”
“Hey, we do. Why not them?”
“We’re asking about Morris, if she knew him, if he said something to her.”
“Why can’t they want something too?”
“Yeah, I guess. It just puts things with us on hold.”
“Not on hold, just a little delay because we need to switch things up a bit to get what we need. Our mission is different from theirs. Our lives could depend upon what she could possibly tell us. They’re here because someone told them to be here. We’re way more desperate and I’m betting on us completing our mission.”
“Right under their noses.”
“The only way to do it, little brother.”
THE NEXT DAY
SWITCHING GEARS
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Dub & Don
Blocked from entry at Marylyn Briggs house, we did as any good soldier would have done, we improvised.
The four days we watched Marylyn Briggs home, other than her daily routine and the guard dogs out in front of her home, the other thing that remained constant was the mail. The mailman arrived at the same time every day. You could set your watch by his arrival. On the last day, we both had an idea. It could get his federal time in Leavenworth, but with time against us, we had to try.
Our new plan focused on the mailman. We decided to surveil him while he went about his route. We were able to watch him go about his normal routine without him noticing a thing. It took a few days to map his route, but we had every house memorized by the end of the week. Our mission was so successful, we decided to follow him back to his home. In order to carry this out without any mistakes, we needed a few additional details.
When we arrived, there was an SUV in the driveway, bags and suitcases stacked so high the driver would have a difficult time seeing out of the back window. They were all wearing happy faces and smiles were carved into each of their faces. We watched him kiss them goodbye and go back inside. Tomorrow morning is the perfect time to pull this off. He leaves for work when it’s still dark outside; this is going to be a little easier than we thought. Both of us are used to carrying out full scale missions at night. To say we feel right at home staring danger in the eye in complete darkness would probably be an understatement. We needed the remaining portions of the mail carrier façade and that part would have to wait for another day.
“What do you think?”
“I’ll tell you what I know. I know we’d better not mess this up.”
“So, you telling me something you knew, doesn’t mean I’m not going to know it too, right?”
“Did you know that?”
“Yes, Dub.”
Dub chuckled. “Relax little brother. I think we can pull this off.”
“Why the look?”
“When you’re dealing with life, sometimes it doesn’t give you everything you need. You often need a backup plan.”
“We don’t have one.”
“Hence, the look.”
“It has to go as we’ve planned it. Our only other option is to approach her naked.”
“We can’t do that. We need a cover. We’ll have to think of something else.”
“We won’t be able to because if this fails, we’ll be in federal prison.”
“You’re too dramatic. We’ve made it this far haven’t we?”
“Barely escaping isn’t something to cheer about Dub.”
“No, but it is something that will allow you to wake up the next morning free and not in a cage in the ground. So, how does that barely escaping sound now?”
“Since you put it that way, I’d say it sounds damn good.”
“Thought you’d see it my way.”
THE NEXT MORNING
EXECUTION
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Dub & Don
When the morning began for us, it was still dark out. Our master plan was almost about to come together; we hoped. The mailman was our first priority. As we’d practiced, we followed him from his house to the post office. When went into work, we parked on a side street and waited for him to come out.
“Dub, we’re going to have to grab him before he gets into those nice neighborhoods. You know there’s someone home probably in every house. They’ll call the police for sure.”
“I know, too many nosey ass housewives. Man, why can't they live in the ghetto? We could grab him, steal the mail and mail truck in front of the whole neighborhood and no one would say anything.”
“You got that right. I have to let Trevor know, there are some good things about the ghetto.”
Dub laughed. “Please let me know when you attempt that. I’d like to see how that conversation goes.”
“You don’t think that’ll convince him?”
“Hell no, but it’ll be amusing as hell to watch you try.”
“Here he comes.”
We let him get in front of us a little and pulled out behind him. We followed him from the Post office to his first house. With nervous anticipation, we watched him deliver mail from house to house. We knew there was a block with the best cover. This is where we’d decided to grab him.
“Don get ready.”
“I am.”
The mailman pulled up to the block with that provided the perfect covering. It was now or never. There was no room for error. We had to pull this off with perfect precision. I put the van into a slow roll so Don could jump out. The shrubbery and trees around this location hid his approach. It was so perfect I almost chickened out, nothing is this perfect. When the mail carrier got out to deliver the mail Don put a cover over his head, covered his mouth and pushed him into the back knocked him out with some medicine we got from the Doc, took his clothes off, put them on and drove the mail truck to Marylyn Brigg’s house.
Timing is everything in an operation. One little unexpected hiccup and it can and will blow your entire mission.
The mailman had to remain unconscious until we could get him back to where we accosted him. All of this working together perfectly is a lot to ask or expect. We were hoping God didn't remember all those times we fell asleep in church. We needed a favor from the big guy, and not now but right darn now.
I followed behind Don found a place to park and through binoculars, I watched our hubristic plan come alive.
One thing I did concern me, if things started to go awry, Don wouldn't have backup close enough to help him. I see him drive up to the house park and get out. I was hoping he didn't forget the mailbag. He didn’t, yeah, score one for us. He walks up to the house and knocks on the door. My heart is pounding so hard, it feels like my jugular vein is about to explode. Pools of water have formed on the seat from my sweat. The door opens, he gives her the mail smiles, she reciprocated and he walks off. As he’s leaving, she looks back at him. Don turns and tips his hat to her. She nods, turns and goes back into the house. Don jumps into the mail truck and drives off. So we wouldn't be discovered, I took a different route.
When we got close to the place where we jumped the mailman, Don parked the mail truck, repeated the sequence of events he performed earlier minus drugging him, I slowed the truck to a crawl and he quickly got in the
car with me.
“Whew! Bro I’m glad you made it!”
“So am I. All that training from the military and my knees got weak from the thought of delivering the mail.”
I laughed. “I wasn't worried at all. I knew it would go off without a hitch.”
“Yeah I figured. I swear you and Doctor Spock are related.”
I smiled. “Maybe and maybe not little brother.”
SECOND PHASE
THE APPROACH
Dub & Don
We woke up this morning ready to put the second half of our plan into action. Don made contact with her yesterday. If she read the note and she’s willing to help us, this will be easy. If she’s unaware that something odd is going on around her, the police will be there when we arrive. I hope she’s a player.
Since J knew a guy who owned a moving company. The second part of our plan involved a career change.
“Hey Don, I don't know about you. I was thinking I’m waaaaay too pretty to go to jail. We stole the mail, knocked out the mailman, stole the mail truck, all of that’s a federal crime.”
I chuckled. “Don't worry about it. We’re not going to a civilian jail. We're going to the brig.”
“And?”
“You know the military is homophobic.”
We both shared a hearty laugh about that, but soon playtime was over. It was time to leave. We put on our coveralls and piled into the van. Once again, we asked the big guy upstairs to watch over us as we started on our quest for answers.
As we approached her block, I felt something I wasn't familiar with. I believe they're called butterflies. I’ve faced the enemy more times than I can count don't recall ever feeling butterflies being nervous wasn't allowed. You were so focused on the mission you didn't have room in your emotional vault for nervousness, indecision or fear. I'm on American soil ready to knock on a woman’s door and I'm scared. Humph....What a soldier.
We arrived early and there they were, the guard dogs, but we’ve come this far, there’s no turning back.
“Man, I was hoping the universe would cut us some slack.”
“Doesn’t look like it.”
“I’d sure like to know who they are.”
“I’d like to find out who they’re working for.”