Green File Crime Thrillers Box Set

by James Kipling

  “I can hardly wait,” Wendy told Dr. Millins in a hateful tone. “The dye you inject into my system is unpleasant.”

  Dr. Millins snatched up a brown chart attached to the end of Wendy's bed and began writing down his notes. “Agent Cratterson, Mr. Petrov is a man I have known for over twenty years. In that time, I have come to understand that Mr. Petrov has a very strong distaste for agents who have worked under Roger Alden. You should be very grateful that you are even alive.” Dr. Millins returned the chart back to its slot, nodded at Lionel, and left the room.

  “Nice man,” Wendy scowled.

  “Dr. Millins was once a very famous neurosurgeon,” Lionel explained, refusing to lose his temper with Wendy. “That man has operated on some very powerful people in his time.”

  “Should I be impressed?”

  “No,” Lionel answered. “You should be worried.”

  “Oh?” Wendy asked carefully, studying Lionel's eyes. The man was still in love with her. That much was clear. “You are a fool, Lionel,” she stated, and then rolled her eyes. “Do you really think I can ever love you?”

  “You once loved me,” Lionel reminded Wendy.

  “That is a lie!” Wendy yelled, and then winced as a bolt of pain burst through her head.

  Lionel held up his left hand. “You need to rest. I will put on a new tape for you to watch. Boris...Mr. Petrov...wants you to have all the tapes watched before you go to sleep.”

  Wendy slowly folded her arms. “Roger Alden has created—”

  “Not yet,” Lionel warned. “Wendy, before you form an opinion, watch the tapes.” Wendy nodded her head and watched Lionel insert a new tape. “I'll be back in one hour.”

  “Sure,” Wendy said, as Lionel flipped off the room light. “Now, back to the matter at hand.” Wendy locked her eyes on the television set and continued to watch Jessica Mayes’ life being systematically destroyed by Roger Alden. By the time the tape ended, Wendy felt confident that Roger Alden was planning to create a nuclear conflict. “The man is crazy. The Russians and Chinese will strike first,” she whispered in a shaky voice.

  Lionel reentered Wendy's room carrying a glass of cold ginger ale. “Ready for the next tape?” he asked without turning on the room light.

  “You know what Roger Alden is planning,” Wendy told Lionel, taking the glass of cold ginger ale and pointing at the television with her left finger. “You realize that—”

  “I realize that we must locate Jessica Mayes,” Lionel informed Wendy in a stern voice and then shook his head. “A few days ago, I killed a traitor. Before I did, I had him send certain text messages to the enemy. I was confident the plan I had created would assist me, but as far as I can tell, the plan failed. No reply text has been received. Mr. Petrov is not pleased and has decided...” Lionel paused, studied the door, and then rubbed his chin. “Wendy, Boris wants you and I to locate Jessica Mayes. He believes the woman has the virus. The virus represents absolute power.” Lionel gazed at Wendy's hard face. “Boris and I have both agreed that Roger Alden is attempting to start a nuclear conflict. We have to locate Jessica Mayes—”

  “I will kill that miserable woman!” Wendy yelled at Lionel, and then grabbed her head. Small streams of blood ran from her nose.

  “Oh...my head...”

  Lionel ran to Wendy and checked her bleeding nose. “I need to get Dr. Millins.”

  Wendy began to feel very lightheaded and dizzy, as the inside of her head erupted with paralyzing pain. “Oh...my head...Lionel...get me something for the pain… hurry… and...” Before Wendy could finish her cry for help, she passed out cold. Lionel exploded out of the room, located Dr. Millins in the lounge, and brought him back to Wendy's room. Dr. Millins quickly checked Wendy's bleeding nose and then checked her eyes.

  “What is it?” Lionel demanded, breathing hard and full of worry.

  “I need to run a CT scan,” Dr. Millins stated in a calm tone. “I'm sure Agent Cratterson will live. In the meantime, order Agent Chan to set up the CT machine for me.”

  Lionel nodded his head and did as ordered.

  ((((((((*)))))))))

  As Lionel ran to retrieve a nurse, Jessica Mayes stepped outside into heavily falling snow and looked out at a very dark and unfriendly night.

  “Jack, where is the journal...the virus?” she whispered and cuddled her arms together. “I have to locate the virus. It's the only way. Please.”

  “Praying?” Tom spoke in a soft voice.

  Jessica turned and watched Tom step through a dark kitchen door and enter the snow. “Talking to my husband,” she confessed, as the heavy snow covered her hair. A powerful blast of icy wind raced through the night air and struck her beautiful, worn, face. “I miss my husband, Pastor Braston. I miss my husband very much; his smell, his touch, his voice.”

  Tom stepped close to Jessica. “I'm certain you do miss your husband, Mrs. Mayes,” he said in a soft, caring voice, as his eyes studied the dark night. “I assume you never imagined that a night such as this would ever exist?”

  Jessica cuddled her arms against the icy winds. The cold was tolerable, but the winds were punishing.

  “Pastor Braston?” she asked, instead of answering Tom's question.

  “Yes?”

  “When my husband died, I died along with him,” Jessica whispered. “I wasn't aware that I died with my husband. Now, standing here, looking into this night sky and struggling to see the future, I know I died with my husband. The only question that haunts me is how does a dead woman live? And why should I fight?”

  Tom didn't know how to answer Jessica. Instead, he gently put a loving arm around her and allowed the icy winds to speak.

  ((((((((((*))))))))))

  Jessica felt as if a thin silk sheet had covered her tear-filled eyes.

  “Jessica,” a voice whispered. “Jessica, wake up. We need to talk.”

  Jessica immediately recognized the voice whispering into her ear. Her beautiful eyes slowly opened and looked up into the face of Jack Mayes.

  Jack smiled. “Hello, beautiful.”

  “Jack?” Jessica asked, feeling her heart shatter. “Jack, is that really you?” Jessica raised a shaky hand and touched the face of a handsome man who appeared to glow. The face her hand touched felt real, familiar, and...and warm. But how could that be? Jack was dead. Dead people didn't have warm skin. “Jack?”

  Jack smiled a loving, warm smile that settled into Jessica's confused heart. “It's been rough, hasn't it, beautiful.” he said, sitting on the side of a large bed draped with long, silky white sheets that matched the white room Jessica was resting in. “You must hate me.”

  Jessica stared at her husband with shocked, painful eyes. “Jack, is that really you?” she asked in a shaky voice, exploring Jack's face with her soft hand. Jack smiled, nodded his head, and then kissed his wife's hand. “Oh, Jack, it really is you,” Jessica cried, and then threw arms around his neck.

  Jack quickly pulled his wife close and held the crying woman. He held Jessica for a very long time, and then decided it was time to explain the dream. “Jessica, I'm not really here,” he explained in a painful voice. “What you're seeing is someone I programmed into your unconscious mind.”

  Jessica felt Jack's warm embrace slowly begin to dematerialize. “No!” she cried out, feeling Jack transform into some type of mist that held a human form. “Jack—”

  “I'm still here,” Jack promised, offering a gentle smile. “Jessica, honey, if you're having this dream, then something has happened to trigger the switch that I programmed into your unconscious mind.”

  “Jack, what are you talking about?” Jessica begged. “Please, baby, don't leave me again.” Jessica held her hands out to her husband and begged for him to hold her. “Please, let me die. We can be together forever.”

  “It's not your time to die,” Jack explained in a tormented voice. “Jessica, honey, if you're having this dream, then I'm dead. But trust me, I'm in a far better
place.” Jack studied Jessica's teary eyes. “You must be very confused.”

  “About what?” Jessica asked. All the poor woman could remember was standing next to a deep, dark grave that held a cold casket filled with funeral rain and tears. “Jack, you died. Please, let us be together.”

  Jack watched Jessica crawl onto her knees and reach for him. Painfully, he had to turn away. Jessica dropped her head and began to cry, as the white gown covering her trembling body began to change into a dark cloak.

  “No,” Jack begged. “Jessica, don't let your heart become bitter—”

  “Why?” Jessica screamed at Jack. “You were...are...my husband! And now you're dead!” Jessica lay down, curled up into a tight ball, and closed her eyes. “All I want to do is die. I want to close my eyes and sleep forever, with no more pain.”

  Jack sat down next to his wife, made his body become solid once again, and touched Jessica's tear stained face. “You were always a tender heart,” he said in a soft voice. “I knew I loved you from the moment our eyes met.”

  Jessica opened her eyes, glanced up at Jack, and asked: “Why can't we be together?”

  “Because you have a war to win,” Jack explained. “Jessica, don't you remember?”

  “Remember what?” Jessica asked, feeling confused and defeated. “Jack, all I remember is standing beside your grave and watching your casket being lowered into a dark nightmare.”

  A concerned expression entered Jack's eyes, as a gust of icy air appeared from nowhere and struck his face and hair. The air felt like sharp blades that were threatening to cut him out of Jessica's memory.

  “Jessica, you have to try and remember,” he begged.

  Jessica saw thin little cuts, almost like paper cuts, appear all over Jack's face. Wisps of white mist began streaming out of the cuts.

  “Jack?” she asked in an alarmed voice. “Your...face.”

  Jack lifted his right hand, touched his face, and felt dying memories pouring from the cuts on his face.

  “Jessica, give me your hand,” he said in an urgent voice. Jessica did as he said. Jack grabbed her hand and, before Jessica knew what was happening, the entire white room she was resting in began to shake and tremble. Suddenly, a loud explosion erupted into the air, releasing what appeared to be some type of gray dust. Jessica screamed and grabbed Jack. When the air settled, she dared to open her eyes as a gust of warm air struck her face.

  “Remember this beach?” Jack asked.

  Jessica saw a bright, beautiful, white beach appear before her eyes. The beach was lined with healthy, joyful palm trees that were swaying back and forth in a gentle breeze. She stared at a greenish-blue ocean that was lovingly nursing coral reefs, which were decorated with gowns of elaborate beauty.

  “I...do,” she stated in a confused voice and then glanced down at a soft blue beach dress that had replaced the black cloak. “Jack, I do remember this place. We had to fly—”

  “The plane landed right out there on the wave,” Jack told Jessica in a loving, yet urgent voice. “The water was up to our waist. We had to carry all of our supplies to shore. The water was very calm as we worked.” Jack took Jessica's delicate hand into his own. “The plane flew away and left us on this remote beach for seven full days.”

  “Those were the best seven days of my life,” Jessica promised her husband, turning to look into his face. The bleeding had stopped. “I remember how I never wanted those seven days to end. I remember lying awake at night, staring at the stars, and praying for time to stop.” Jessica felt a sharp pain enter her heart. “But you had to get back to work,” she stated in a troubled voice.

  Jack slowly nodded his head. “I worked for the—”

  “CIA,” Jessica stated, as her memory began to come back to life. She glanced at Jack as a low, painful, moan left her heart. “Jack, you were killed.”

  “Yes.”

  “The CIA killed you.” Jessica stared at Jack in horror. “I'm starting to remember. I don't want to remember!”

  Jessica tore away from Jack and began running down the warm beach. “No. I refuse to remember! I...I'll stay here forever!”

  Jessica didn't know where she was running to. The island was very small, forming a circle. Eventually, if she kept running, she would end up right back here, to Jack. Jessica didn't care. Images of her sister sitting in a scary cave flooded her mind. The cave gave way to a run-down thrift shop. The image of Alvin appeared in her mind; a broken, defeated soul who was punishing himself. Alvin's face quickly changed into the face of a man who was a mystery, the face of a man who was the son of the President of the United States. The man's face didn't linger for very long.

  As Jessica ran down the warm beach, running from Jack, the pain, the memories, running from herself, the face of Wendy Cratterson crept into her mind. Jessica saw herself hiding under the desk that belonged to some Sheriff in Georgia, waiting to die. Then she saw Wendy Cratterson's legs appear in front of the desk.

  “I’m going to kill you now, Jessica. I’m going to kill you, only you're not going to join your husband. I'm sending you someplace where the nightmares never end!” Wendy Cratterson hissed. Jessica felt a horrible cry leave her throat, and then saw herself kick at the woman. Then she heard a gunshot. The gunshot took her to the front of a run down, snowy motel where a deranged truck driver was shooting at her. Jessica saw herself walking toward the truck where the truck driver was hiding behind and, although she hated guns, she fired at him. One of the bullets struck the truck driver and killed him.

  A horrible scream erupted in Jessica's heart, as she was thrust into a dark cave where three scared people sat beside a powerful underground river.

  “Go away!” Jessica begged, desperately trying to outrun the cave, the river…the memories. “Go away!”

  The cave and river didn't go away, though. Jessica saw herself jump into the river with the three people hiding in the cave. The river took her to an old farm house where she stood outside in the snow with a strange man; a man who was filled with compassion and mercy. “Go...go...”

  Jessica’s legs grew weak, and then weaker and weaker. Until finally, she crashed down into the warm sand.

  “Go away!”

  Jack watched Jessica grabbed her face and scream. With sad eyes, he carefully approached her and bent down to touch his wife's violently shaking shoulders. “So, you remember? Jessie, honey, you have to remember.”

  “Why?” Jessica begged and thrust her head into Jack's shoulder. “Why do I have to remember? Why can't I just die? Why can't we be together? I miss you so much. Every breath I take hurts. Please, just hold me.”

  Jack wrapped his arms around Jessica and held her. “Jessica,” he whispered, “if you're having this dream, that means you've been thinking about the virus. The virus is the trigger.”

  “I don't care,” Jessica declared, feeling the warm sun striking her beautiful face. “Jack, I don't care.”

  Jack leaned up and gently took Jessica by her shoulders. As he did, the sun turned dark, transforming the sky into a sinister nightmare that began turning the clean white sand into volcanic ash.

  “Jessica,” he begged, “don't allow your heart to die. Please.”

  “Why?” Jessica asked in a weak voice. “Jack, I can't win your war. I never could.” Jessica glanced up at the acidic darkness. “How can four people win against a world that's so evil?” she asked. “Even if I did locate your virus, what could I do?” Jessica lowered her eyes and focused on her husband's desperate face. “Jack, I want to fight and win your war, but I can't. I don't even know where your virus is located? I... they burned down our home...our memories.” Fresh tears began falling from Jessica's eyes. “It's all over, sweetheart. All I can do is wait to die and be with you forever.”

  “No,” Jack begged. “Jessica, you do know where the virus is. I programmed the location into your unconscious mind while you were sleeping. All of this, what you're seeing, is what I programmed into your mind
and hid away. All you have to do is try to remember what I told you.”

  “But I don't want to remember. Please leave me alone,” Jessica told Jack in a tormented voice. “Isn't it enough that I've already lost you?” Angry tears replaced her agony. “Isn't it enough,” she struggled to continue, and then stopped as if someone had slapped her.

  “Oh, my! The voice I've been hearing—the voice in the Sheriff's office—the voice telling me to fight. Jack, the voice...it's you. You must have known that—”

  “I would die?” Jack asked Jessica, as waves of acid began burning the ash beach. “Jessica, honey, I assumed that my enemies would catch up to me in time.” Jack began slowly fading back into a mist. “You were the only person I could trust, Jessica,” he explained in a critical tone. “I used a special medicine that placed you into a weak coma. While in the coma, I used implanted truths into your unconscious mind. The reason I'm able to come to you now, to tell you this, is because I implanted this truth into your mind.” Jack kept his eyes on the acidic ocean. “I feared that I would be killed. I feared my attempts to program the truth into your mind might fail.”

  “If I'm trapped in this dream, you didn't fail,” Jessica informed Jack in a confused, angry tone. “Jack, why?”

  “Why did I slip a pill called A-Braga into your nightly tea?”

  “Yes,” Jessica exclaimed, as fallen ash began to cover her lovely hair. “Why didn't you simply tell me the truth? You were...are...my husband. I could have saved your life!” Jessica ran at Jack and began beating at his chest with her fists. “You created all this pain, all these tears. It's all your fault!”

  Jack watched Jessica's hands try to strike the mist that formed his body. Jessica didn't care that she wasn't striking a physical person. Her anger, fury, and broken heart wouldn't allow logical actions to restrict her grief.

  “Jessica, I did what I thought was right for the sake of our country and the world, but mostly for the sake of the children,” Jack explained, as Jessica began to wear down. “You have eyes. You see what this world is doing to our children. If this world isn't murdering our unborn children, it is brainwashing our children and turning them into slaves by using a mind control technique called M-SZ. This entire program is being utilized by the United Nations and implemented in every country. Jessica—”