Then, she noticed the wedding ring on the taller of the two's finger, and an unexplained sadness gripped her. She instantly realized that it was he she was really interested in, and how futile that interest was. She could never be the other woman, and she got the impression that for this man there would never be 'another woman'.
As they got closer, Toni rose from her chair and took the taller man's hand with both of hers. Peggy noticed that the ring on Toni's left hand could be a match for the one he wore. Could Toni be his wife? But her husband was dead. Had she and John recently married? Something wasn't right though. She wasn't sure.
Peggy said, "John, I am glad you are going to talk to the council. You have my support too," Peggy then knew. The man, John, didn't belong to Toni, even though it was clear to Peggy that Toni would prefer it if he did. But, the ring... The ring said he belonged to someone else.
Lorne walked over to Peggy, who had, by now, also risen from her chair. She realized that she was several inches taller than he was but, despite that, she could not think of him as small. She had never met a short man with such confidence before, and she could tell it was not a misplaced confidence. She had met supremely confident psychopaths before, but this man's confidence, unlike theirs, was quiet and competent. She knew he wasn't a psychopath, even though she had seen him shoot the wounded tracker in the head.
Maybe that was it though. The taller man had a sick look on his face when he saw the dead trackers, and saw the wounded one shot. The smaller man reacted more like an experienced special forces soldier inured to violence, even though Peggy couldn't recall ever having met anyone that looked less like a special forces soldier.
"Peggy," the smaller fellow said. "I am Lorne Vanders. The big guy here is John. You may remember us from the mountain. Welcome to my home. Don't worry. You are safe now. I assume Toni already told you a bit about us."
"Not really," Peggy said. "We haven't had much time to talk. And I do remember both of you. Thank you so very much. I owe my life to both of you."
Toni chimed in, "We spoke only a bit, but I think she will do just fine with us."
"You realize you can't go home now?” Lorne asked.
"Yes," Peggy said. "That is hard for me to believe but I knew that was true even when I was on the mountain. I just regret that I won't be able to get my cat. I left her in a boarding kennel when I drove out to see my sister.” A small tear flowed down her cheek. "I should have already been home and picked her up."
"Can you get someone to pick up her cat?” John asked. "I know it is a real risk since the cat may be monitored by the feds for that very thing."
"I will look into it," Toni said. "You and Lorne need to get to the meeting."
Lorne said. "At best I only tolerate pets, but your cat is most welcome if Toni can recover it.” He looked at Toni. "We need you at the meeting too, Toni. Can you get the ball rolling on the cat before we leave?"
"I know who to contact," Toni said. "I will need fifteen minutes."
"Toni, if you can recover the cat..."
"Her name is Loco," Peggy said. "She reminds me of Marilyn Monroe in the old movie How to marry a millionaire, so I named her after her character."
"OK, if Loco can be recovered, I think she needs to be checked for RFID chips or other locating and/or transmitting devices—over a full frequency scan. Can that be done?” John asked.
Lorne smiled, "Yes, John. We have a guy that I think can do that. Now folks, we need to go meet the council, and yes, you too Peggy. Are you up for another plane ride?
"As long as Doc isn't flying," John laughed.
"Who is Doc?” Peggy asked.
"He is the other fellow who was on the mountain with us," John said.
Lorne said, "He will meet us when we see the council."
Peggy looked John in the eye and asked, "Is he a retired professor too? I think he is much too young for that."
"No, he is a medical doctor," Toni answered.
"I think he is pretty good too," John said. "At least with stitches."
"And bullet holes," Toni said. "Peggy, did you know that John was shot twice just days before he carried you off the mountain?"
"Yeah," Lorne laughed, "not bad for a big man, not bad at all."
Lorne slipped into the pilot's seat, and started the preflight checklist—something he had ignored on the previous flight, probably because of the urgency. Toni helped Peggy into the front passenger seat. John got into the one of the back seats, and Toni climbed into the other back seat. Once the plane was airborne and conversation died down, Peggy fell asleep in her seat. Soon after, John dozed as well. Lorne had not revealed their destination to them but John doubted they were going directly there anyway. That didn't seem to be Lorne's style, nor was a direct approach safe.
John awoke when Lorne said they were landing soon. Toni's head was on his shoulder, but all he could think of was Susan. Her memory was an ache in his soul because he missed her so much. The hatred of her killers rose to the front of his mind again, and with another woman's head on his shoulder, he began to work out different ways to kill Susan's murderers. There would be no bringing them to justice in the court system. They were the ones who ultimately controlled the justice system anyway. In this case, revenge had to be direct. No one was going to right this wrong except John.
Once they landed, they split into two cars. John rode with Lorne, and Peggy rode with Toni.
"Where are we going?” John asked.
"To a ship offshore in the Gulf of Mexico," Lorne laughed. "Not so very far from where we started. Insurrection is hell, isn't it?"
Chapter 10: THE MEETING
"Sincerity can sometimes be better expressed down the barrel of a rifle.” John Debrouillard
Gulf of Mexico
I looked at the wake of the boat behind us as Doc pushed the 30-foot speedboat to its maximum speed. The early morning water was glassy smooth and Doc was taking advantage of it. I estimated that only the rear third of the boat was still in the water. I would never be able to drive a boat that fast.
Doc had joined us at Gulfport harbor. Toni and Peggy were both huddled tightly in the cockpit, both because it was slightly chilly in the predawn hours with the wet salt spray, and perhaps even more so because they had bonded on the drive from Virginia back to Gulfport. I wondered how many times they had changed cars. We had changed cars six times and driven all over the southern half of the U.S. before we arrived at our destination. Toni and Peggy were there ahead of us, as was Doc.
Lorne stood beside me in the stern and stared at the wake as well. Both of us were in short-sleeved shirts and both of us refused to acknowledge any discomfort. We were both lost in our own thoughts. I was worried about what I would say to the council. Should I do as they asked, or go my own way to seek revenge for my wife's murder? In either case, I was rebelling against an evil government; one that wanted to kill me—and would kill me on sight. The feds gave me no choice. I didn't think there was anywhere in the world I could go to escape them, nor would I have gone if I could. I could not break my vow to Susan even though I knew that trying to carry it out, alone or with Lorne and Toni's organization, would most likely end with my death.
After we had been underway for about two hours, Lorne turned and pointed to a freighter ahead. "There she is," he said. "That is the worst ship in my entire freight line, but often the most useful."
I looked where he pointed. The ship was small, old, and rustier than I thought it should be. I estimated it would be another twenty minutes before we reached her. To get a better look, I walked forward to the front of the cockpit and stood with my head and shoulders over the windshield. The wind and cold salt spray felt good. Soon, I noticed both Toni and Peggy had risen from their seats and were standing on either side of me. They were both the same height. The top of their heads came almost to my chin. Only their faces were exposed so I was surprised when Toni grabbed my right arm and snuggled close as if for more protection from the wind and spray. Peggy was on the oth
er side of me, but she was holding on to the windshield and not me. She was close enough though, I thought. I noticed Lorne lightly punch Doc in the shoulder and point. Doc smiled. I pretended as if I hadn't seen. Truthfully, Toni and Peggy's closeness made me a bit uncomfortable. In my heart, I was still married to Susan and there was no room for anyone else.
The ship grew larger on the horizon as we approached, but we were still a couple of miles away. Turning my head and speaking to Lorne, I asked, "Satellite photos will show us boarding the ship. Won't that be a problem, especially if they are looking at them in real time?"
"Yes," Lorne said, "that could be a problem."
"As much as they want Peggy, Toni, and me, they could just send a cruse missile and destroy the ship with all of us aboard."
"I admit that did not occur to me," Lorne said, as always giving an honest answer. "What do you suggest?"
"Let me think about it for a bit. I don't know much about ships. Do they have a small boat?"
"Yes," Lorne said. They have a 26-foot launch that is sometimes used in port."
"Have you been around these ships enough to know if they ever use them for fishing?” I asked.
"Yes, and yes, sometimes they do."
"Then, we are going fishing," I said, and laid out my plan. Doc turned the boat slightly away from the ship as if it was never our destination in the first place and we headed toward an oil platform about six or eight miles away. I had heard that there was some good fishing to be had under these production platforms.
The sun was out now. It was warming up. Toni and Peggy both rolled up their pants legs and shirt sleeves, kicked their shoes off, tied their shirt tails up around their midriffs to show more skin to the sun, and lay back in the reclining seats with sun cream smeared over their faces and big dark sunglasses on. Lorne and I dug out a couple of deep-sea rods and sat in the back pretending to fiddle with them.
Doc made a phone call using a satellite phone and passed on a coded message. The code was good. As best I could tell, it was a normal call to a friend.
We had been under the offshore production platform pretending to fish for about an hour when the launch from the ship arrived. We were lucky the production crew was asleep, or otherwise occupied, and they didn't bother us. The ship's launch pulled under the platform and alongside our boat. We were ready.
Five crewmen from the ship boarded our boat as we boarded the launch. As soon as the transfer was made, the crewmen left in our boat, headed off to another rig for more fishing. We had rigged a sun tarp over the cockpit so it would not be obvious who was in the boat in satellite pictures.
In the launch, which already had a sun tarp rigged over the open cockpit, Lorne found the fishing gear and we baited some lines and began fishing for grouper. In an hour we had about 150 pounds of grouper, as well as a few fish I didn't recognize. We put the fish in the large built-in ice chest and Doc swung the boat out from under the rig and set a course to intercept the ship. It took us about two hours to get to the ship with Doc fussing the entire way that we could be there more quickly if he could just open that baby up. I smiled, but insisted he hold about the same speed the ship's launch had used when on the way to the platform. Toni and Peggy both mostly stayed out of sight in the small cabin while we were under way, just in case the government had eyes on the water.
When we were about a mile from the ship, Toni and Peggy came back on deck; Peggy looked out across the water and grabbed my arm tightly and pointed. About a mile away, in the opposite direction from the ship, a mini-predator drone cruised at an altitude of a few hundred feet. Its path was taking it away from us at about a 30-degree angle. As I saw it Peggy's pointing hand grabbed my arm. Toni put her arms around Peggy's shoulders as I studied the drone.
"Lorne, can the drone see us?” I asked.
"I don't think so," he replied. "Our research suggests that the cameras aren't good enough for this range, although the government has a special camera that they can use on the larger drones that can monitor an area of about 20 square miles."
"I hope you are right," I said. "I doubt there are any chaff cannon aboard this launch."
"No, there aren't any," Lorne said. "I think they are more like mortars than cannons though."
I smiled, "My lack of a military background is showing. I should have known that."
"Relax Peggy," Toni said. "We are OK."
I reached across and squeezed Peggy's hand. "It's OK, Kiddo," I said. "We will make it.” Peggy grasped my hand and gave me a weak smile. She was terrified. Come to think of it, I was nervous myself. Toni, Doc, and Lorne seemed unfazed by the presence of the drone. I wondered if there was some way to project a picture above us that wouldn't show our presence to the drone—sort of a Romulan cloak of invisibility.
The lift onto the ship was efficient, and the landing was gentle as the crane operator lowered the launch back into its deck berth. I noticed that a tarp was rigged, as per my request, to shield us from spying eyes in the sky. We exited the launch, climbed down the ladder, and a single crewman led us to a door in the superstructure. He couldn't take his eyes off Toni. I don't think that surprised Toni. She ignored him.
We were led into a moderate-sized dining hall and the crewman left. The ship's captain showed us to seats along one of the tables. I chose a seat on the end where I could get up easily. I knew I would have to answer questions and talk about a few things, and I always speak better on my feet. I suspect that is an artifact of having taught college classes for so many years.
In a few minutes, three men, and one woman walked into the dining hall. From the way each of them looked around, I figured none of them were used to being aboard ship either. Lorne, however, seemed to know this ship as well as he knew his own house.
Lorne stood as the others approached. Since there was a lady present, I did as well. Doc did not, but then he was busy talking to Peggy. They were animatedly whispering back and forth.
"John," Lorne said, "this is Nancy Shepard.”
I took her proffered hand and shook it. She was about five feet ten had a nice, firm grip and bright, intelligent eyes. "Pleased to meet you," I replied.
"Nancy, this is John," Lorne said.
"I am pleased to meet you too," she said. Her voice was expressive and carried genuine warmth.
"And this is Riley Hashinikarian."
Riley was almost my height and carried a few extra pounds. His handshake was also firm. I instinctively found myself liking him. "Pleased to meet you," I said.
He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "I am pleased to meet you too John."
The next fellow in line was tall, even taller than Myrtle. He was black and that surprised me a bit, but not much. The people I had met in the organization so far had been typical conservative Americans of every race. His hand was huge and swallowed mine in a firm but not painful handshake.
"John, this is Charlie Alsup."
"Pleased to meet you," I said. "You look familiar."
"I used to play pro basketball," Charlie replied.
"I don't watch sports," I said.
"Then, you may have seen me on a television commercial. I used to do quite a few of those as well."
"Could be," I said. Charlie smiled, and his entire face glowed. He also put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. Unfortunately, he chose the shoulder with the redone stitches. It hurt, but I didn't let the pain show in my face.
The last fellow was of average height and seemed to have a stronger personality than any of the others, although I didn't think it was anywhere near a debilitating feature. He was almost as confident as Lorne. His name was John Pickering. His handshake was firm, and his gaze was straight on.
"John," he said, "I think we need you very much. I hope you agree to lead us.” I noticed Peggy's eyes opened a bit wider when he said that, but otherwise there was no reaction that I could see from anyone else in the room.
"Let's talk," Lorne said, and we all sat down around the table.
Washington
, D.C.
The president paced back and forth in the oval office while the secretary of the Department of Interior Security fretted. The other cabinet members sitting around the large conference table were all nervous as well. "Where is he?” The president shouted. "Where is that son of a bitch?"
"We don't know, Mr. President," the secretary replied. "He seems to have just vanished."
"That is impossible. We spend almost a trillion dollars a year to keep track of the damn civilians. Are you telling me that money has been wasted?"
"No, Mr. President," the secretary sweated and loosened his collar. "We have only had a small amount of time to find this guy, John..."
"I don't care what the damn target's name is. Just get that son of a bitch for me, and do it fast."
"Yes, Mr. President."
"And what about that target who escaped the drone in Colorado? I was assured that you would have eliminated her by now."
"Mr. President, Sir, apparently she had help."
"What?"
"We sent three more ground hounds after her. They failed."
"Did this woman kill them too?” The president snarled.
"No Mr. President, all three of our ground hounds were sniped from a distance of about 600 yards. Their lapel cams did not pick up the sniper. One was wounded, a 30.06 round shattered his leg, and then he was executed with a single .45 caliber shot to the head. His lapel camera did not pick up his assailant. Apparently, the person was careful to approach out of view of the lapel camera."
"That sounds like an organized para-military group to me," The president said.
"Perhaps Mr. President," the secretary replied. "What you should know is that the first ground hound that was shot was killed with a shot to the back of his head at over 600 yards. He was hit with a single .223 round. Mr. President, Sir, we think it came from a Ruger Mini 14 or Ranch Rifle."
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