The Wallis Jones Series Box Set - Volume Two: Books Four thru Six

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The Wallis Jones Series Box Set - Volume Two: Books Four thru Six Page 56

by Martha Carr


  Will clapped his hands together in excitement, slapping them on top of his head.

  “This is like when the Wright brothers flew at Kitty Hawk. Remember what we read?” he said, looking at his brother. “The newspapers refused to print it, even those who saw it happen. It was because they knew no one would believe them. They would be called liars. The illusion that it was impossible to fly was stronger at first.”

  “So, we need to find something to demonstrate to them, something real that there’s an opportunity here to come together that’s worth their while,” said Ned. “Some moment that’s so different that they will have no choice but to believe their eyes.”

  Ned typed that into the computer, leaving the note on Pastebin. He had a few ideas about what it could be, but he wanted to crowdsource even this because he knew the only way to save the world was as a group and if it had to begin with teenagers, then so be it. So far, they were already doing better than the adults had in hundreds of years, and with less bloodshed and loss.

  “And we will do it all without a civil war,” said Will.

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” said Ned.

  Will held up his arm and said triumphantly, “All for one and one for all.”

  Ned held up his arm, smiling and realized Juliette had taken his other hand, again.

  He felt the beginning of hope coming back to him, finally. He had forgotten for a little while the most important thing he had learned in Richmond, just before the Big Relief. Nothing is accomplished alone. Everything takes cooperation and he had an entire tribe to turn to at any given moment. Maybe he was one of them, a Butterfly.

  Ned left soon after that, knowing the last train back to the city was leaving soon and he couldn’t afford to miss it. The director had strict rules and one of them was that Ned was never to spend the night at the orphanage.

  If he missed the train he would have had to spend the night in the small shelter in the freezing cold. Robert Schaeffer and Mother Elizabeth would argue that they couldn’t leave the boy in the open air especially as the temperatures dropped below zero.

  But Ned wasn’t sure the director wouldn’t ban him after that, and besides, he couldn’t leave Father Michael all by himself. He had made him a promise that he would be back before dinner, and that he would take the old man for a walk. It was time to go.

  Before he left, Ned leaned in and gave Juliette a brief kiss. It wasn’t their first kiss but every time when he leaned in and there was a rush of blood to his head, it made it hard for him to think clearly. He loved the feeling.

  The memory of the kiss took his mind off of the cold for the entire hike back to the train. He stood in the aisle, hanging on to the edge of a seat in the crowded train, and it was all he could think about for the ride home.

  When he finally got to the apartment he was surprised to find Daniel Kozak waiting for him, sitting on the used couch they had taken from another apartment after the tenants left in a hurry.

  Father Michael was nowhere to be seen.

  Ned’s heart rate immediately picked up, wondering what had happened.

  “Where’s Father Michael?” asked Ned.

  “He’s still asleep,” whispered Daniel. “I picked the lock to get in. You should do something about that. It wasn’t that difficult. Don’t worry, no one saw me. I checked on Father Michael. He’s okay, but he seemed worn out so I didn’t wake him.”

  Ned felt the rush of adrenaline still surging through him and he took a few deep breaths, taking a closer look at Daniel.

  “You look pretty worn out yourself. It must be serious if you traveled all this way and took all of those chances just to see us in person. You could’ve sent me an email.”

  “I could have but I didn’t want to.” He was wearing the typical multi-layers of pants and shirts and jackets, a coat and gloves. It was as if everyone was dressed in their entire wardrobe, at all times just in case they had to leave suddenly. At least that’s what it looked like.

  It all had an air of homelessness to it that didn’t help with the general mood.

  “Dude, this apartment is cold.”

  “I’m well aware. Look, I’m glad to see you, but what’s happened?” asked Ned.

  Daniel rubbed his face, looking like he was trying to buy himself some time before he said what he had to say. It didn’t make Ned feel any better.

  “I think my father may be headed to Chicago,” said Daniel.

  “Why do you say that? Have you seen him?”

  Daniel kept grabbing his knees and pressing hard and then wringing his hands as if he had suddenly developed a nervous tic. “No, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to do it, anyway.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I think he’s figured out who the man in the bank camera was.”

  “He knows it was you? That’s going to be dangerous for all of us. Your father seems to go out of his way for revenge.”

  Daniel had used the information he had gotten from his late mother about George Clemente, especially the fact that George Clemente didn’t even know Daniel existed much less that he was his only child.

  He’d use the information to steal a series of small notebooks from a safe deposit box in a bank that no one was supposed to know about except George Clemente.

  “If he’s figured that out we need to take special precautions,” said Ned. It didn’t bother Ned that Daniel had come to him, possibly putting him in danger. He couldn’t be in any more danger from Daniel Clemente than he already was, and that was probably true for Father Michael as well.

  Ned peeled off the top layer he was wearing, trying to cool off a little as he realized he was starting to sweat.

  “There aren’t enough special precautions, Ned,” said Daniel. He let out a weary sigh. “If we start trying to protect ourselves from George Clemente. we’ll end up losing the game. We need to stay focused on making sure none of these groups ever rise again.”

  “Just what makes you so certain about your information,” asked Ned, ignoring the rest of what Daniel was saying. It was all true but one thing at a time.

  “I sent him a Father’s Day card, and I signed it,” said Daniel. “Okay, I know but we need to stop him, once and for all, and if not now, when? It’s time. If he finds out who I am, and what I’ve done and that I’m here with you, then his ego won’t let him stay away. One way or another I’m making sure my father never gets the chance to come up with another plan.”

  “So, we’ve thrown out the bait.”

  “And he’s crazy enough, and arrogant enough to take it,” said Daniel.

  Chapter 4

  Mark Whiting had used every precaution when he bought the ranch through the shell corporation, Rosecroft Investments just a handful of years ago, trying to escape both the Circle and Management.

  He had to wonder if it was all worth it. Operatives kept finding their way to his door.

  His house sat on a thousand acre spread, complete with a trout stream and a thick stand of aspen trees on the northern boundary that wound across the property and down to the road. They had provided cover during the recent civil war that has saved a Circle operative. It was all located on the side of Haskill Mountain with a beautiful view of Flathead Valley.

  Only one other family had owned the land since the original homestead but it was quickly becoming known as the Rosecroft land, which was fine with Mark. The name was not attached to anything personal and was as good as a coded password.

  Tom Weiskopf, the current Keeper of the Circle was staying with Mark in the Haskill Mountain’s, along with Sgt. Leonard Kipling who was the Circle soldier that Mark, and his oldest son, Jake had rescued a couple of years back during the war. A Management squad had been right on their heels as Jake and Mark had carried the wounded sergeant the last mile to the house, covering the trail of blood with snow as they went.

  Fortunately, the Management soldiers had never figured out that they were holding not only the sergeant. that they were trailing, the only member o
f his squad that had lived through the firefight, but at one point also the Keeper that they so badly sought to trap and kill.

  Now, the Keeper was back again, away from his role as a hippie lawyer in Wisconsin that he used as cover.

  Leonard Kipling was a descendent of the zwanzig, the original twenty and had been an Army Ranger for the Circle during the Civil War. He’d grown up in a Circle orphanage at Mercy Home with his older brother Dennis, who had died in the war.

  Leonard was wounded once again in Philadelphia, trying to get Daniel Kozak’s birth certificate safely to the White Rose resistance for safekeeping. But the rogue Circle operative, Fred Bowers, who had found a way to end the war with selectively killing Management officers in the Richmond area, in a fit of revenge for the slaying of his wife, Maureen, saved Leonard’s life, dragging him to the White Rose stronghold just in time. A shooter was on their tail the entire way.

  Fred Bowers was seen as too unstable by both sides, and when President Ronald Haynes, his last ally, was suddenly assassinated by Rodney Parrish, a bounty was put on Fred Bowers head and he had to be taken in by the White Rose order for safekeeping. He was the one who found the wounded sergeant in Washington Square Park in downtown Philadelphia, not too far from the White Rose headquarters.

  The sergeant agreed to keep Fred Bowers secret about being a member of the Order. Even Tom Weiskopf didn’t know that Fred was still secretly working for them.

  “I could do more good on the front lines,” said Leonard. “I wasn’t built to be anybody’s bodyguard, and besides, it doesn’t look like there’s much to threaten your well-being up here on the mountain.”

  “There isn’t, that’s why we’re here,” said Tom. “Have a little patience. We won’t be here for long but were not going to go into without knowing what we’re doing. Or at least till we have more certainty than we do now.”

  “What are we waiting for?” asked Sergeant Kipling, “No disrespect, sir.”

  “You were handpicked,” said the Keeper.

  “It’s an honor,” said Mark, trying to sound like he meant it. The young man didn’t need goading at this point.

  “Do I have a choice?” asked Leonard.

  “Always,” said Tom, looking at him directly. That word, choice was a sore subject with him and everyone around him knew it. “But sometimes, the choices that will leave the most people alive are somewhat limited. It’s selfish, granted, but I’d like to stay alive and soon, I will need you to make sure of it.”

  Leonard got up to pace, which he did frequently when he was frustrated. It was as if the frustration had to get out of him somehow and he was either going to shout it out or pace.

  Tom preferred the pacing.

  “Soon enough, we will have to join in but we have no way of knowing if we’ve hit bottom yet.”

  Mark looked up to see his oldest son, Jake come in the room as if he had something to say. He was already a man at nineteen, protecting the house with his shotgun during the war and he had been one of the architects of the Great Relief. He formed part of the inner circle for Ned Weiskopf.

  Mark had no illusions about his son. Despite his best efforts, Jake was immersed in the same kind of world that Mark had been in when first he joined Management and then somehow, managed to put himself inside of the Circle, before devising a scheme to not only get out of the entire lifestyle but take millions with him. All of it under the nose of both Management and the Circle.

  To fund his escape, he had slowly bologna-sliced a fraction of a penny at a time from Management accounts while working at the Richmond office of one of the country’s Federal Reserve locations. The one devoted to technology. His goal was to live a quiet life in the mountains of Montana. So far, he was having only limited success.

  “Did you need something Jake?” asked Mark.

  “I need to get to Chicago. I’m not exactly asking,” said Jake, cutting off his father’s protest. “Well, I’m asking for help to get there. I know you want to keep me safe,” he said. “And I promise I’ll do my best to stay that way. Look, the Great Relief has started and a solution is underway, and I needed to be a part of it,” he said, in a rush of words. “One way or the other, I’m going. I’d like it to be with your help.”

  Mark felt the sharp pain in the middle of his chest and he knew he couldn’t protect his son any further. He couldn’t even pretend he was protecting him while he was under his roof. He knew all along it wasn’t really true but it was so much easier as long as Jake was near him.

  Everything he had done up to this point to get out from under both shadow governments had failed and the evidence of it was staring him right in the face.

  “Then I’ll help you,” Mark said, with as much certainty as he could muster. He knew it would be important for Jake to believe that all things are possible if he was going to succeed. It would serve him the best. “In fact, I’ll come with you.”

  “Someone is approaching the house!” said Peter, Jake’s younger brother, as he came rushing into the room out of breath. In the past two years he’d grown to be as tall as Jake, both of them broad shouldered, sturdy young men who looked like they could take on anything. They both resembled their mother more, but neither one knew it since she had abandoned the family years ago. Their little sister Ruthie was the one who looked most like Mark.

  “Jake, go up to the nest at the top of the house and take your thirty-aught six with you. Peter go find Ruthie and make sure she’s safe and out of harm’s way. Take her to the safe room and stay there until the coast is clear.”

  Peter started to protest and sputter. “I’m a better shot than Jake,” he said.

  “That’s why you’re given the task of protecting Ruthie,” said Mark.

  Jake went up to his room at the top of the house, nicknamed the nest and pulled the rifle from near the window where he kept it most of the time. The rifle had a scope that allowed him to see well out to the aspens and a range that could shoot just as far.

  He could see that whoever was approaching was athletic and moved through the heavy snow easily. Not a good sign. The figure was also well dressed in a down coat that looked almost new and was wearing the right boots. All of it added up to an operative, and possibly a soldier, and probably Management. More bad news.

  He put his finger near the trigger but hesitated wondering why a Management soldier would approach the house so openly, straight up the middle and not circle around among the trees where he would be less likely to be seen.

  The truth was, they probably would’ve spotted him anyway because they were always looking for just that sort of move. But still, a soldier would hope to get away with it and try.

  He kept looking through the scope waiting for some sign that would tell him what to do. It wouldn’t be long before whoever it was, would be too close to the house, and he would have to take a shot rather than take a chance on his family.

  At the last moment, just as he was about to shoot, he noticed the tight circle of twenty stars embroidered on the side of the man’s jacket. It was too small to be seen without the scope but it was clearly there. The Circle emblem saved the man’s life that day.

  Whoever it was seemed to sense that he was passing the line where someone would have to shoot him or know who he was. He was quickly scanning the house, and as he looked up at the top of the house he seemed to surmise that would make the best sniper’s nest. He pulled back the hood of his jacket so that his face could be more easily seen.

  Jake immediately recognized him and gasped, “Fred Bowers,” as he lowered the gun and rested it back by the window.

  He took the stairs two at a time and ran back down to where he found his father and the Keeper and Sergeant Leonard, all armed and waiting by the door.

  “It’s Fred Bowers,” said Jake, breathless. “Why is Fred Bowers coming up the mountain?”

  “Good question,” said his father, looking more than a little suprised.

  Mark Whiting had not seen Fred Bowers since he had left Richmond, Vir
ginia as quickly as possible. Back then he didn’t know that Fred was actually a double agent but of a different kind. He had pretended to be a low-level Circle operative who was too nervous to ever be promoted very far. His cover was as a lowly accountant, married to Maureen Bowers who seemed content to just get along and was constantly worried about what everyone else was doing.

  The truth was he was the operative assigned to President Haynes and was at the highest level of the Circle just below the Keeper.

  His job was to collect information that people would say around him thinking that the man was too afraid to ever do anything about, and report back to the President. It all worked so well for so many years until the day Maureen was shot in a gun battle trying to protect Wallis Jones, and Fred had lost his bearings.

  Then, with the death of President Haynes, Fred had suddenly disappeared and Mark thought he was dead. Now, here he was walking up the middle of the open field just in front of the house and approaching the door.

  They heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch and the crunch of the snow left under his boots. Jake got up to go and answer the door but Mark stopped him, waving him away with a stern look and went to open the door.

  “Hello, old friend,” said Fred. “It’s been a long time.”

  Fred looked nothing like Mark remembered. All the nervousness was gone from his face.

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “I think that’s the gist of what they hope everybody thinks,” said Fred. “I think that’s the only way I have managed to actually stay alive. Mind if I come in?”

  Mark hesitated but stood back leaving space for Fred to slide in the front door.

  “Jake. Hello, Tom. I see you even have Sergeant Kipling here. Well then, I’m not sure why I’m here, except I’m still good at following orders.”

  “You’re here on orders?” asked Tom. “Whose orders?”

  “Believe it or not, your nephew, Ned Weiskopf. I was ordered to bring you all to Chicago. Apparently, the Butterflies are still running the show and they have figured out a way to draw George Clemente out of hiding. They expect him to show up in Chicago at any moment, so we should hurry.”

 

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