The next sixty minutes dragged like a turtle carrying a heavy metal iron shell. The only up side to the wait was listening to the seasoned Bush Rats share stories about their mystifying ruins and the unworldly creatures that resembled a Terran Tyrannosaurus rex.
After forty-five minutes of their babbling, Chief changed the subject from fighting against giant intelligent lizards back to their operation. He told everybody to get ready. Ten minutes later when the call came, they rushed out to their Astrovan. He turned to Jack with a look that said “not so fast.”
“Sorry, boy, you’re our designated driver today.” When Jack whined and complained that he also wanted to be part of the assault team, first Chief reminded him it was not about one person, but completing the whole mission. Then he added, “Plus, boy, a man without a gun doesn’t get to choose.”
With no other option, Jack accepted his part in the mission. He did what a good soldier did and sat behind the wheel.
A few hundred yards down from the cabin he parked at the side while Chief and his boys did one of their quick-fire Voodoo rituals to their falling soldiers and the gods of war. They then quietly stepped out into the cold of the night. Jack’s orders were to wait patiently in the van until he heard the loud bang, which was his signal to make his move.
It was exactly five minutes after their alpha strike and still nothing. At the eight minute mark, Jack finally heard a loud, continuous, echoing boom from the surrounding mountainous forest. When he saw the sparks of red, yellow and orange brightening the dark sky he stepped on the gas. Already in gear, the van burned all four tires on the frosty ground and thrust forward with a slight swerve. By the time he pulled up in front of the half-blown cabin, the boys were already outside with fiery eyes, carrying a bruised Melvin by each arm. The look on his face screamed, “Jack, I’m going to kill you.” Perhaps not for burying him head deep in trouble again, but for getting Daddy and his boys involved and giving Tania more reasons to tell him, “See, I told you so.”
Chapter 17
San Francisco, America
Since two days ago, when Jack and Melvin rushed to Switzerland in the dark of the night, Abby hadn’t had one decent night’s sleep. That could have been due to her cumulating storm of thoughts, wandering domestically and internationally, or not feeling Jack’s warm body wiggling next to hers. She often complained to Jack about his constant kicking and tossing and turning through the night, but she did miss that now. Last night she had just lain there in the cold, empty bed for hours, trying to fall asleep. Finally she decided to rock herself back and forth to simulate the motions she experienced sleeping next to Jack. When somehow, amidst all her mixed thoughts and emotions, she finally managed to close her eyes for forty winks, the phone rang and it was an exhilarated Jack.
All he said was, “Baby, I really can’t talk now, but you’re not going to believe this! Chief and his Bush Rats are here, and they just got Melvin out! He believes this time we might have stumbled into something shady for real! Not only that, he also thinks Margret might be the daughter of Chris Jackson since her birth name is the same! According to Melvin, during the time he spent with Mr. Jackson he denied knowing Margret, but he admitted that Doctor Phillips is definitely our Skylar Phillips! So for now just go back to sleep, and I’ll call you back later in the day with more updates!”
How the hell did Jack expect her to fall back to sleep now after dumping that load of news on her! First it was her exciting thoughts that Melvin had been rescued. Then her thoughts expanded to Jack, knowing he was also safe, especially now that Daddy and his Bush Rats were there. This was followed by thoughts that Doctor Robert Phillips was their Skylar Phillips as they had suspected all along. Lastly there was the happy confirmation that Chief thought they had stumbled into something shady, and perhaps she was not going totally crazy.
Minutes later, Abby’s excited emotions changed and worry kicked in when she started thinking about Margret. How was she connected to all of this? Most importantly, what was her fate? Was she even alive? And, if she was, was she alright? Those questions haunted Abby until she realized it was past noon. Perhaps she had only slept for a wink or two, and now she had to get ready to meet Tania. They had spoken on the phone yesterday early in the evening, and, after Tania had given her a good tongue-lashing for getting Melvin in trouble again, she had finally agreed to meet today. The plan was to pick up Tania from her house before one thirty, and then get baby Grace from school before two.
Not wanting to be late, Abby hurried to get ready. She took a shower, did her hair and applied some blush across her face to bring some color to her pale complexion. With her special cream, she tried to cover some of the deep brown lines under her eyes that made her look like a beaten-up old raccoon. She was glad she didn’t look worse, in spite of all the worrying, not eating, sleeping, and losing her mind about everything in between. Exactly ten after one, keys in hand, Abby rushed out of the house and said a quick, “Hello,” to the next-door neighbor’s boy before jumping into her Toyota.
She passed the corner brown house and made a quick left. Half an hour later she made a right on the green light and, about ten blocks from Tania’s house, she called and told her to wait outside in about five minutes. In just under five minutes, Abby pulled up in front of the charming, modest house and hit the squeaky brakes.
“Damn, girl, you have to change your brake pads,” Tania said as soon as she opened the passenger-side door.
“I know. I’ve been too busy to get it fixed. But I’m hoping I’ll have the time in the next few days once the boys come home.”
Abby waited for some follow-up banter, but when Tania didn’t give it to her, she burst out with excitement, “So you must be super thrilled knowing that Melvin was rescued safely and is doing fine!”
Seeing Abby’s ear-to-ear smile, Tania rolled her eyes and stared angrily. “Girl, I honestly don’t know what the heck you are smiling about. If it wasn’t for Daddy and his boys, Melvin still would’ve been busted, and who knows what else could’ve happened to Jack, other than receiving a punch in the face.”
At Abby’s worried look, Tania revealed, “Yeah, what that crazy nut fiancé of yours didn’t tell you is that first Daddy’s boys knocked him out cold, walking in the snow towards the cabin. Then later Daddy punched him on the nose for always getting Pig in trouble.”
Eyes on the traffic, Abby didn’t say anything. She quietly listened to Tania brag about Daddy and his seasoned Bush Rats. She made a few turns and carefully weaved in and out of traffic. She debated whether to tell Tania how Daddy believed they might have stumbled into something shady for real this time, but she figured either Tania already knew about it, or it would be best if Melvin or Daddy delivered the message.
Just after two o’clock, Abby pulled into a vacant parking spot in front of John Marshal Preschool. Twenty or thirty parents were already waiting outside, and a dozen or more were rushing to get there.
“Hurry up,” Tania said, stepping out of the car. “We have to get there before Grace gets on the bus.”
Abby picked up her pace and followed Tania through the crowd of parents and the swarming, screaming, incoming kids. Everywhere Abby turned, she saw another little smiling boy or girl, and the more she stared into their happy faces, the deeper her heart sank in dark agony. She couldn’t help reflecting back on the horrible day of the accident. In her head, watching these smiling children, all she pictured were bloody, mangled bodies. Although these kids were alive and well, laughing and giggling from joy and happiness, in her ears were the tortured cries of those who were injured, and the lost souls that had passed on to the next life. Abby snapped out of her bloody misery when Tania shouted Grace’s name.
”Mommy!” baby Grace screamed back with a squealing laugh. She rushed towards Tania with open arms for a hug.
“That’s my little girl!”
From the side, Abby added a quick, jolly, “Hello how are you?” and quietly escorted Grace and Tania to the car.
�
��So, baby, where do you want to go eat today?”
“McDonalds!”
“Oh, why am I not surprised!”
With another round of smiles and laughter passing between mother and daughter, Abby stepped on the gas. “Okay, here we go!”
When Abby turned onto the first narrow street, she noticed a black 4x4 behind her do the same. She was sure she had already seen this car twice today, once on the way to Tania’s, and then just before picking up Grace. She convinced herself she was just mistaken and that it was all a coincidence, but when she made another turn and the black car did the same, she felt a gut-wrenching twist deep in her stomach. She made another turn for one final confirmation. Her heart raced when she saw the car not only follow her, but also pick up speed.
Through her rearview mirror, Abby tried to catch the license plate, but, to her surprise, she couldn’t locate one. All she could see inside the car was the blurry silhouette of the driver. Other than that, nothing in detail.
She calmly whispered to Tania, “You know something? I think we might have bad company.”
When it was clear that Tania didn’t understand, Abby quietly motioned to the 4x4 behind them.
Tania looked in her side mirror. She wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s been on our tail at every turn.”
Tania’s eyes widened with worry and she started breathing heavily through her nose. Not wanting to startle Grace, she calmly asked, “Baby, do you have your seatbelt on?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“That’s my good girl.”
Tania turned her attention back to Abby. “You’d better lose it, or pull over somewhere safe.”
Not sure what to do, Abby sighed and stepped on the gas. The 4x4 did the same. She tried to pull to the right, but the black car sped up and moved alongside, blocking that move. Abby looked around but didn’t have many options. As there were no cars behind her, she could either slow down and allow the 4x4 to pass them, or put on her hazard lights and stop in the middle of traffic and hope for the best. Fortunately there were other cars and pedestrians around. Abby was sure whoever this crazy person was, he or she wouldn’t do anything incriminating around potential witnesses. Eyes on the side mirror, Abby asked, “Do you think this might be one of Daddy’s boys keeping an eye on us?”
Even before Tania could say no, it became clear this wasn’t the case. The 4x4 accelerated and attempted to force Abby into the incoming traffic.
“Be careful!” Tania shouted. Baby Grace screamed.
Heart racing, Abby glanced into the 4x4 that was directly to their right. She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was none other than Doctor Phillips, with an evil expression, looking like a mad man ready to kill. It was obvious he didn’t give a damn about other vehicles and witnesses. He had one goal in mind, and he was going to accomplish it one way or another. He waited a few seconds longer and, when there was a large city bus speeding from the opposite direction, he rammed Abby’s Toyota to the left, pushing Abby directly into its path.
Chapter 18
Bern, Switzerland
“Oh Jack, if you only knew how much I hate your guts,” Melvin said, touching the bruises under his eyes and around his nose.
He couldn’t believe the tall, broad-shouldered beast had done a full number on his face. After they took him out of his solitary confinement, first they had started with the interrogation, and shortly after that came the threats, and then the punches. When the tall beast got tired of landing his combination of left and right blows, he tagged in his guard from the van and the third goon to take over. There were no signs of the short, red-faced chubby man or the driver of the van anywhere. Nor of the Browning pistol they had bagged for evidence. After the three men had relentlessly drilled him over and over about Mr. Jackson and what he might have told him before his demise, they switched the conversation to the silver-haired billionaire.
“So why are you bothering Mr. Andrews?” the broad-shouldered beast demanded with his Australian accent after licking his chapped lips a few times. “Didn’t he tell you and your captain to leave him alone? Ha. Didn’t he?”
“So you guys are working for the old man?”
Those words earned Melvin a backhand across his face for asking a question instead of answering. After two hours of going in circles, with the same questions and the three men dancing on his face with their fists and kicks, they took his bruised body back to his solitary room. With blood dripping from his nose and mouth, not having any energy, Melvin dropped his chin on his chest and blacked out.
He didn’t know exactly how much later, but sometime before sunrise, he was awakened by a loud bang. The cabin jolted from side to side as if there was an earthquake. He heard rounds of rapid shots. Not knowing what was going on, but sure that Jack didn’t have any machine guns, he just sat there impatiently, heart racing and praying for his fate. Then the wooden door was kicked off its hinges, and Daddy and his Bush Rats rushed in with smoke swirling from the tips of their guns. Instead of feeling relieved, he sighed. Dammit, not this again. He cursed Jack for the hundredth time. He was never going to hear the end of this, not from Tania, not from Chief himself.
Daddy didn’t waste any time. He cracked a smile from ear to ear and started with the teasing. “Oh boy, where would you be if it wasn’t for me and my boys, ha?”
Once they had Melvin safely in the back of the Astrovan, Chief ordered Jack to drive back to Bern. “We have a room there. We’ll stay and freshen up and then go separately to Belp Airport and catch different flights home.”
Melvin didn’t remember much of the three-hour drive back other than Jack telling him, “Daddy believes Margret might be Chris Jackson’s daughter. Most importantly, he thinks we might have stumbled into something shady this time!”
At that moment, those words really didn’t comfort Melvin one iota. But it had the opposite effect on Jack when Melvin told him about his time with Mr. Jackson, and his admission that Doctor Phillips was, in fact, their Skylar Phillips. Jack screamed loudly, “Oh I love you, Pig. I really do!”
Those were the last eight words that Melvin recalled hearing before succumbing to exhaustion. When he woke up, he was at the hotel, lying in a large, cushiony, warm bed under thick covers. He slept more and finally woke up hours later. He took a nice shower and attended to his wounds before calling Tania. She gave him a good tongue-lashing and finished with her signature, “See, I told you so.”
About twelve hours later, six hours before their flight out of Belp International Airport, a distraught Abby called Jack and told him that Doctor Phillips had just tried to kill them. Heart racing, Jack placed the phone on speaker.
“We were driving to McDonalds to get baby Grace something to eat when I noticed a black 4x4 following us. I thought I was mistaken at first, but after a few turns I knew I wasn’t. On a busy street full of cars and witnesses, the bastard tried to push me into the incoming traffic. I steadied the car the first time, then, seconds later when there was a speeding bus coming from the opposite direction, he tried again. He rammed into the side of my car. It happened so fast, I don’t even know how to explain it. I swerved head-on into the incoming traffic, and the speeding bus came at me like a raging train. At the last minute we avoided each other. We crossed paths. I moved into its lane and the bus into mine. Since there were no cars behind the bus, I was able to maneuver back into the right lane. Unfortunately the bus was not so lucky. The metal giant lost control and slammed right into the driver’s side of the black 4x4, flipping the car and crushing the driver’s door. It was awful. Brakes screeching, rubber burning and metal smashing. Thank God nothing happened to Grace, Tania and the people in the bus, other than being in shock. We left the police station about twenty minutes ago where we filled out a standard accident report. Now we’re at the hospital getting Grace checked out just as a precaution.”
“What about Doctor Phillips?”
“He’s dead.”
With that nonchalant, cold admissio
n Abby passed the phone to Tania. She assured Melvin that she and Grace were fine and they should be going home shortly. After a few minutes during which baby Grace explained her own version of the confusing events, she hung up the phone with a big, “I love you, Papa!”
In light of that concerning news, Chief made a few phone calls of his own and ordered some of his men to guard Tania and Abby without their knowing. He added, “Red, I think you and Dauber should sneak into the old doctor’s house and see what you can find before the cops get there.”
That had been over three hours ago, and there was still no word from Red or Dauber. Chief impatiently paced back and forth across the room, while some of the Bush Rats were spread around, passed out in sleep. Jack was typing away on an old computer, trying to reschedule their canceled flight, and Melvin was next to him checking out his bruises on his face. The bruise under his eye made him flinch and he repeated, “Oh, Jack, if you only knew how much I hate your guts.”
“Don’t worry about that, boy,” Chief bragged from the side. “We already gave him a good beating. First Checkers knocked him in the face outside in the snow, and later I gave him a good punch on his nose that landed him on his butt.”
Melvin cracked a small smile. He was pleased to know that Jack had finally received what he deserved for burying him head deep in trouble again.
“What are you laughing at, boy?” Chief said again with a serious face. “You’re lucky those bastards busted up your face already. Or else I would’ve punched you in the nose too for always following this knucklehead and his kooky girlfriend into some crazy stunt and making my little girl go crazy.”
Jack hid his adolescent giggles behind his hand, happy that Melvin was receiving the scolding and not him.
“Listen, I been thinking,” Chief continued to Melvin. “You said they forced your finger prints onto a Browning Buck Mark pistol. So I’m assuming Mr. Jackson was probably shot by a Ruger 10/22 with a scope. That has the same .22 ammunition as the Browning. We didn’t find any identification on the three men at the cabin, which tells me they were probably trained operatives. We took some of their hair, blood, and fingerprints, and I’m going to have some of the boys run a DNA test and check with Interpol’s database and see what we can learn. I don’t know what Jack got you into this time, but it might be something shady for real.”
The Missing Dead Page 8