Project Chiron

by Ryan King

  St Keel didn't speak for a long time. "I don't think Jackson Winters is guilty at all."

  Lucas leaned forward and smiled. "You actually spoke to him, didn't you?"

  "Maybe. The point is he's being framed."

  "No, the point is you met privately with a wanted fugitive and didn't report it to the authorities. Tell me where he is, and I can make this all go away."

  "But he's not guilty."

  Lucas clapped his open hand on the governor's desk loudly. "It doesn't matter. Don't you understand? This is about controlling the situation. Let the police and the legal process sort out guilt and innocence. Jackson is a lawyer, after all, and should appreciate that."

  "He thinks he might disappear somewhere along the line if he were arrested."

  Lucas shook his head. "That just goes to show you how mentally unstable he really is. I know you have a soft spot for the man because of his father, but you have to face facts. Jackson Winters is a mass murderer. You shouldn't have gone to see him."

  "I had to."

  "Let me handle this," Lucas said. "It's why you have me. Tell me where he is, and I can make all of this go away."

  "I'm not so sure I want this all to go away."

  "What do you mean?"

  The governor clinched his fists together in front of him. "I'm sick of this game where things are going on behind my back. I'm sick of dancing to others' strings and not even knowing the song. This isn't why I entered politics. It isn't me at all."

  Lucas leaned forward. "Hey, buddy, take a breath here. This is all part of the game, you know that. You have to earn the right to do some good. Part of that is paying for things along the way. Doing favors. Playing the long game. We're in a perfect position, just don't lose sight of the ball."

  "That's quite a bewildering series of analogies."

  "I judge you get where I'm going though, right?"

  "Oh, I get it all right." St Keel reached over and pushed a button on his intercom. "Please go ahead and send them in."

  "What are you doing?" asked Lucas, standing.

  Within a few seconds, two large state police officers in uniforms entered and stood behind Lucas.

  "Gentleman, please take this man into custody. Your commander will provide you with all the details on charges and the like."

  "You don't want to do this," said Lucas as the officers pulled his hands behind his back to cuff him.

  "You're right about that, old friend, but I have no choice. This is your doing not mine."

  Lucas' face was red, and he glared at the governor. "You do realize you're committing career suicide. Everything we've worked for all these years flushed down the toilet. And for what? Some boy you hardly even know?"

  "Take him away," said St Keel.

  The chief-of-staff smiled evilly. "I'll tell them everything. I know a lot of secrets, Eric. I'll tell them everything."

  St Keel looked back at him sadly. "I sincerely doubt that."

  The door closed as Lucas Ross was led away.

  Chapter 59

  This is a mistake, Deborah told herself for the perhaps the tenth time.

  "Come on," said a smiling Moses, waving her on after him.

  She trudged through the woods. He might be skinny and malnourished, but his energy level was amazing.

  "Are you sure we're going the right way?" Deborah asked her brother.

  He looked confused. "Is there a right way?"

  "Touché," she answered. They were looking for something. One way was as good as another. As long as they didn't get lost.

  "Which way is the car?" she asked. The sun was starting to go down, and she definitely didn't want to be out in these woods at night.

  "That way." He pointed off behind him without hesitation.

  What am I doing? she wondered. She had wanted to leave Moses behind, but the nurse had been sick. Besides, her cover story for getting off work was to check out a hospital for her brother, so bringing him along seemed right.

  "Is that it?" he asked, pointing through the deepening shadows of the woods.

  "Is what it?"

  "No she's not!" Moses said.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. Nate just said something mean about you."

  "Well, you tell Nate if he's says anything else, I'm going to slap the bitch out of him."

  Moses froze, sniffing the air. "Food cooking. Smells good."

  Deborah looked around. "We're in the middle of nowhere, Moses. Are you sure?"

  "This way," he said, taking off, not waiting to see if she followed.

  He raced through the trees and she struggled to keep up.

  "Moses, slow down! Wait up!"

  Finally, he stopped mid-stride, and she stumbled up next to him panting, her hands on her knees.

  "Don't...run...off..." she managed to gasp.

  "There it is." He pointed at a small cabin on the edge of a hill near a stream. Smoke was coming from a small chimney and lights shone forth into the approaching night.

  Now that she was here, she wasn't exactly sure what to do. Her hand rested on the butt of the pistol at her belt.

  "Voices from inside," Moses said. "Someone's in there."

  "Oh hell," Deborah finally hissed and walked forward to the door and knocked. The voices inside immediately died out.

  She knocked again. "I know you're in there. I heard voices, and there's lights on inside."

  "Go away," said someone from inside. "This is private property and you're trespassing."

  "In that case you should call the police," Deborah shot back.

  "What do you want?" asked another voice.

  "Hey, it's Rena," said Moses from her left. She looked over to see her brother with his hands around his face peering in the window.

  "Oh my God," came a faint female voice.

  "I see you know my brother," said Deborah. "Why don't you open the door and let's discuss what we need to discuss. We're not going away, and if we were here to take you away, don't you think this would be going a different way?"

  The door creaked open an inch. Out peered a large black man. His eyes cut down to her pistol and the badge at her belt. "You a cop?"

  "I'm an FBI agent," she answered. "I'm just looking for a few answers."

  The man looked back inside towards someone else.

  "Oh, go ahead and let them in," another voice said. "The game is either up or it's not at this point."

  The door slowly opened to reveal four figures. The large black man, an old black man, a small dark-haired woman, and a man who, despite his scraggly beard and long hair, appeared to be Jackson Winters.

  She stepped into the cabin followed by her brother. "My name is Deborah Mitchell, and this is my brother Moses, who I believe some of you already have met."

  "I'm Deloy," said the large man and pointed towards the woman. "That is my daughter Rena."

  Deborah turned to Moses. "Is she that Rena?"

  Moses nodded.

  Deborah walked over close to the small woman. "So, you're the person responsible for my brother being kidnapped by a bunch of sadistic thugs and being abused? Do I have that right?"

  Rena paled slightly, but didn't step away from the larger woman. "I'm also the one responsible for saving his life and getting him off the island, so I'm guessing those even out."

  "Jury's still out on that one," said Deborah, turning away from her. "We'll see how things go from here before jumping to any conclusions like that."

  "How did you find us?" asked Jackson.

  "I'm very good at finding things out," said Deborah. She nodded towards Moses. "I'm also very practiced at finding people who want to disappear."

  "Who else knows?" asked the old man.

  "And you are?"

  "Johnny. Do we need to run?"

  Deborah shrugged. "No one else knows as far as I know. I had to dig a little bit to find that this land was still owned by Mister Winters there. Since you're off the grid, I figured you must have some place to hold up at. Most people go to a famil
iar spot, and this seemed logical."

  "Well hell," said Johnny.

  "Why are you here?" asked Jack.

  Deborah's fierce eyes softened. "To find out what happened to my brother. I'm getting bits and pieces from him but not the whole picture."

  "What are you cooking?" asked Moses, sniffing around the stove.

  They all sat around the table and ate a stew that Deloy had prepared while each told their stories and what they knew.

  "So the murder charges have been dropped on me?" asked Jack in surprise. "How did that happen?"

  "Best I can tell the governor pulled some strings. He probably had the state prosecutor looking into things and realized there wasn't much to go on."

  "Why would he do that?" asked Rena. "When he was here, he didn't seem inclined to help."

  "He was here?" asked Deborah in surprise.

  "He was," said Johnny. "We set it up so he could come talk to Jack, but again, why would he help?"

  "Either he did it because he is doing you a solid to protect you, or he really does believe the charges are bogus," said Deborah.

  "At least now that they are looking into Bog Island everything will come out," said Rena.

  Deborah shook her head. "I was down there. Part of the team. A few off things but nothing that corroborates your story. All new people, everything cleaned up. It's obvious someone has gone to a lot of trouble but no idea who."

  "No sign of my friends?" asked Jack with a pained face.

  "Sorry, no."

  There was a long silence at the table.

  "So what now?" asked Johnny.

  "That depends," Deborah answered. "What do you all want to do?"

  "I want to find my friends and make those responsible pay," said Jack. "I said it before and I meant it. I want to blow the whole lid off this thing."

  "That could be dangerous, lots of money and big players," Deborah answered.

  "I don't care about that," answered Jack.

  "What about them?" Deborah asked. "It's not just your life you're dealing with here. Lots of people can get hurt, you know."

  "Don't worry about us," said Rena.

  All looked around the table at each other.

  "Okay then," said Deborah. "You folks come with me. Time to get moving."

  Chapter 60

  St Keel hated using the private jet almost as much as he hated going to Washington, D.C., but it was necessary.

  The men and women who had put him in power, and could make him president, had summoned him. It was not a summons that could be ignored. Besides, St Keel wanted some answers.

  They landed at Reagan International Airport and were met by a limousine and driver. He took his carry-on bag and loaded it in the back. This trip was a turn and burn with no staff and little luggage. It was in a sense freeing not to have to run everything through Lucas.

  The limo driver took him to the Ritz Carlton. "Sir, I've been asked to inform you that dinner will be a private affair in the Jefferson Room this evening."

  St Keel didn't have to ask who dinner would be with. The leaders of the major pharmaceutical companies or their reps wanted to speak with him. Evidently, Lucas had been their boy and getting rid of him had caused some waves.

  Well, to hell with them, thought the governor. I can have whoever I want working for me.

  He took a quick shower, changed clothes, and went down to the bar for a quick drink. While there he caught the news about Jackson Winters no longer being a suspect, only a potential witness. There were already talking heads discussing how confused the police appeared to be in this case.

  "You don't know the half of it," said St Keel.

  After finishing his drink, he walked upstairs to the private Jefferson Dining Room. About a dozen men and women milled about the anti-room drinking champagne. He took a glass and joined them.

  At first, he had been tense and expecting the worst, but should have known better. These folks came from society; they knew better than to ruin a good meal with unsavory talk.

  He joked and laughed and talked about the upcoming election. There was no mention of events in Louisiana. When dinner was served they all took their seats and enjoyed a delicious pumpkin soup followed by lamb chops. An apple crumble with cream on top followed for dessert. Wine flowed liberally throughout the meal. Talk and laughter were loud.

  They all then retired to an adjacent smoking room. St Keel selected a very expensive cigar and an even more expensive glass of scotch. His cigar lit, he sank down into a plush leather chair.

  He noticed that everyone else in the room was sitting around in a circle facing him. Two men and one woman sat closest. Everyone had cigars and scotch, but the jovial atmosphere had vanished.

  "We're concerned about what has happened recently down in Louisiana," said Tony Clarion, head of Clarion Drug Company.

  "Yes," added Grace Tippleton. Grace was the CEO of Bashier Pharmaceuticals. "We've heard some unfortunate rumors that Lucas Ross has been removed as your chief-of-staff. It's crazy how these stories can be exaggerated. We even heard he had been arrested," Grace laughed. "Surely, that can't be true."

  St Keel looked around the room meaningfully.

  "The room is clean," said Tony. "We had it swept and everyone in here can be trusted. What about Lucas? Is it true you had him arrested?"

  "Oh, but it is true," said St Keel. "The man, I'm sorry to say, was a crook and involved in criminal activity. I decided it was best to get rid of him sooner rather than later."

  "I see," puffed Dale Zilbo, founder of Zilbo Medical Research. "Perhaps it would have been wiser to consult with us prior to such a drastic course of action. It will cost us significantly in money and time to right the ship on this one."

  "He lied to me," said St Keel.

  "So what? They're only holding him on charges of corruption anyway. How long do you think that will stick?" asked Grace.

  "What's really going on at Bog Island?" asked St Keel.

  "Nothing that you need to worry about," answered Dale. "It's for your protection that you know as little as possible."

  St Keel sighed and took a sip of his drink. "I'm sick to death of hearing that line. Besides, it's out of my hands now anyway. The Justice Department and the FBI are involved. I can't cover all of this up."

  "We can," said Tony. "We have.

  "What do you mean by that?" asked the governor.

  "It's simple," answered Grace. "The Justice Department has already decided to stand down and turn the case back over to the state police."

  "But what about Bog Island?"

  "What about it?" asked Dale. "The feds found nothing there."

  "You need to trust us and do what we tell you," said Grace, blowing smoke in his direction. "We can only protect you as long as you are worth protecting."

  "I want out of whatever it is you're doing," said St Keel.

  "You're in way too deep to get out, Governor," said Dale. "If we go down, you'll be the first to feel the bite."

  St Keel's hand tightened on his glass.

  Grace reached out and put a calming hand on his knee. "We're all friends here. We're all on the same side. No need to get upset. Play your part and everyone is a winner. No one gets hurt."

  "You mean no one else gets hurt," said St Keel.

  "It's a difficult world we live in," said Tony. "We're talking about curing cancer here. You have to look at the greater good. And not to put too fine a point on it, but without us watching your back and covering for you at D.C., all sorts of unsavory things can happen."

  "That's the second time you've threatened me in the last few minutes," growled St Keel.

  "Don't look at it as threats," said Grace. "We are simply giving you the courtesy of speaking plainly with you. Whether you like it or not, we are in the same boat here...for better or worse."

  "And what is it exactly that you want me to do?" asked St Keel.

  Dale smiled. "Simply sit back on this. We'll handle everything else."

  "What do I tell the FBI
if they question me?"

  "They shouldn't," said Tony, "but if they do, you tell them nothing. If you've already told them something, say you were mistaken."

  St Keel sat back and sucked on the cigar thinking.

  "It's time to decide, Governor," said Grace. "Do you want to be one of those idealists who burns the world down around them on principle and gains nothing...or do you want to be the President of the United States?"

  Eric St Keel sipped his drink and made his decision.

  Chapter 61

  Deborah felt nervous as she made her way through the plain non-descript lobby. It had been many years since she had been to the Justice Department building. The vast hall was open and filled with young professionals moving with purpose.

  The six of them had driven in a large passenger van through the night from Louisiana to Washington, D.C. Everyone had been nervous about being spotted. Everyone except Moses who was oblivious to their plight and seemed to enjoy the sights out the window.

  They were all exhausted as they entered the building. Deborah pointed to a set of chairs near a window. "Have a seat here. I'll be right back."

  "Are you serious?" asked Rena, tilting her head towards Jack. "We're sitting in the Justice Department with one of the FBI's most wanted."

  "He's not on that list, and he's only wanted for questioning," said Deborah. "Just be cool, and I'll be back in a minute."

  "Why can't we just come with you?" asked Deloy.

  Deborah looked meaningfully at the security turnstiles. "My badge will get me in, but you all would have to be checked-in. I'd like to keep you all on the down-low until I'm sure we've got top cover from someone."

  "How likely is that?" asked Johnny.

  "We'll see," said Deborah. "I used to work for him."

  "Is that a good or bad thing?" asked Deloy.

  Deborah smiled. "You might have noticed not everyone gets me."

  "Oh hell," said Deloy. "Perhaps we should go back on the run now."

  "Just be cool," said Deborah, walking towards the turnstiles. She made her way through and took the elevator to the fifth floor. On the way there, she saw several folks that she had known before. Some nodded at her, but most avoided eye contact. She knew she had never been popular with her co-workers.