Green File Crime Thrillers Box Set

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Green File Crime Thrillers Box Set Page 34

by James Kipling


  “But, sir,” Tim said, feeling that Roger was contradicting his own orders and placing Tim's life in danger, “we—”

  “Yes, Tim, I know. We work as shadows,” Roger said, his tone poison. “Your duty is to watch the c, and the people who belong to that church. And if—and this is a big if—Pastor Braston returns with Jessica Mayes, we will grab that woman.”

  “You mean overpower Edwin Green's people. Right, sir?” Tim asked.

  “I will have three extraction teams within five minutes of you,” Roger nodded his head and walked over to Tim on legs that reminded Tim of a black widow spider.

  “I'm going to group our people at the safe house in Wyoming and make it look like we're expecting Jessica Mayes to appear there, and—” A cell phone sitting on Roger's desk interrupted his conversation with Tim. Roger studied the cell phone and then decided to take the call. “Yes?”

  “We have a Code 'Fire Power',” Henry Lauder spoke in a deeply concerned, if not down-right scared, voice.

  Roger froze for a second, and then forced his mouth to react. “Speak.”

  Henry Lauder was standing in a bedroom, in a house that cost three-quarters of a million dollars. The bedroom had antique hardwood flooring that complimented murals of deep forests. The bedroom was Henry's pride. Unfortunately, the gray suitcase on the large bed in the middle of the room confirmed that the man was about to abandon his jewel. “General Garcia met with the Russians and the Chinese—”

  “Yes, I'm aware,” Roger informed Henry in an impatient voice.

  “The meeting was a hoax,” Henry continued, as he nervously closed the gray suitcase. “I'm deserting a sinking ship,” he explained in a shaky voice. “The Russians and Chinese have confirmed an alliance.”

  “I want answers,” Roger demanded, as his cheeks turned red with fury, “Henry, I want answers, and I want answers now!”

  Henry stared down at the gray suitcase. “I never would have imagined,” he whispered, feeling a touch of sadness for the country he had spent a lifetime attempting to destroy. “We pushed the Russians and Chinese too far.”

  “Speak up, Henry!” Roger roared.

  “The man we have inside the Russian Embassy called me, Roger,” Henry explained, barely able to speak. “He confirmed to me that...” Henry felt his hands begin to shake. “It's no good, Roger. You pushed the Russians and Chinese too far. NATO is standing down. The UN, and all of our people, are starting to abandon ship. We have crippled America, and the Russians and Chinese are going to strike. The first strike will take place within the next seventy-two hours.”

  Roger could barely believe his ears. “This is not possible. The Russians and Chinese would not dare—”

  “Roger, Edwin Green was forced to a safe location. The White House has been destroyed. The American people are cutting each other’s throats. The mainstream media...you've seen the images.” Henry lifted his shaking left hand and studied it. “Our team is falling apart, Roger. Senator Hicks and Senator Venton have both left the country.”

  “What?” Roger asked, as his eyes began dripping with fire.

  “Have you not seen the latest report?” Henry asked.

  “I've been busy interviewing people,” Roger hissed, glancing at the flat screen television sitting in his office. He ordered Tim to turn it on. Tim did as he was asked. A shocked young woman, who was standing outside the Capitol building, was talking in a quick, scared voice.

  “Yes, Melinda,” the young woman spoke, as a light snow covered her dark brown hair, “as you can see, massive crowds are gathering. Reports are coming in that, by nightfall, there will be over one million people ready to overpower the police and set the Capitol building on fire.” The camera rotated away from the young woman, and focused on a police barrier holding back thousands of screaming, angry men and women. They were all between the ages of eighteen and twenty-nine. Roger saw rifles, guns, machetes, and knives being waved into the snowy air, along with threatening signs.

  “Tim!” he yelled.

  Tim studied the protestors. “Sir,” he answered in a startled voice, “This is the first I have seen of this. Noel is responsible—”

  Roger snapped up the phone on his desk. “I want Noel in my office! Now!”

  Tim continued to stare at the screen. He had been busy all morning on a different project. “The massive crowds you're seeing behind me, Melinda, have gathered in the last hour. I was told that there was a planned time for the crowds to assemble.” The camera swung around to a line of about twenty policemen dressed in riot gear. More cops were quickly arriving. Why? To protect a bunch of corrupt politicians who only wanted to destroy America, and turn the once great nation into a vile sewer. “I was told by one of the protestors that, by nightfall, the attacks will begin. The National Guard has been called in, but reports are floating around that soldiers are deserting their posts and joining the protestors.”

  Roger stared at the television. The small fire he had created was now an official, raging wild fire that was out of control.

  “Henry,” he spoke into his cell phone, “get to my office.”

  “No,” Henry objected. “My private jet is waiting, Roger. The situation is out of control. America is destroyed.” With those words, Henry ended his call, studied the bedroom he cherished, and then deserted his home forever.

  Chapter 6

  Troubled Times

  Jessica was shocked to see Tom drive into Pennsylvania. A feeling of home entered her heart, along with a deep, intense feeling of emptiness that caused tears to fall from her eyes. She quickly looked out at a gray, snowy day that was growing later by the minute, and focused on a white wood line that hugged the highway on which the church van was traveling north.

  “Jack,” she whispered, “we're almost home. It’s about another hour or so.”

  Tom heard Jessica whispering to herself and gave a quick, careful, glance at the front passenger seat. Mandy, Alvin and Jacob were all asleep in the back seats of the van. Or so it seemed. While Mandy had managed to drift off into a light sleep, Jacob and Alvin were very much awake.

  “Mrs. Mayes,” Tom spoke in a soft voice, as he trailed behind a green semi-truck pulling a full load. The truck was taking it nice and easy, allowing safety instead of urgency guide the wheels. Other traffic, mostly cars and trucks occupied by young kids, was zooming by the church van and the semi-truck at dangerous speeds which were not compatible with the falling snow and hazardous driving conditions.

  “Mrs. Mayes, I've been thinking about your dream.”

  “Yes?” Jessica whispered, as she wiped at her tears. “What have you concluded, Pastor Braston?”

  Tom focused on the semi-truck. “I would object to anyone attempting to place hidden messages into a person's unconscious mind,” he told Jessica, feeling the heat from the front vents strike his face. He took a minute to settle his mind before moving forward. America was in a state of chaos, and the majority of national and state roadblocks that had been established to capture Jessica, had been removed.

  There was currently, from what the radio was broadcasting, a large mob assembling in front of the Capitol building in Washington. The intention of the mob was to destroy the building, murder any Senator found inside, and take control of Washington. National Guard units had been called in, along with police reinforcements, including cops from Pennsylvania, due to the immense size of the mob.

  The person reporting the news stated that President Green had ordered that the Capitol building be held at all costs, and for Americans to stand down. This order, of course, only infuriated the mob and added more fuel to the fire. Tom feared that, before morning broke, thousands were going to die; Americans against Americans.

  To make matters worse, every major city was teaming with murder, violence, protest, rage, hate and evil. News report after news report about people being attacked, gunned down, murdered in cold blood, were flooding the air waves. Buildings, private homes, businesses, vehicles, police
stations, schools, colleges, were being attacked and set on fire. Federal and State authorities were overwhelmed. Governors from all states had declared a 'State of Emergency'.

  As bad as that seemed, Tom reminded himself that America was a very spacious country and, even though cities and towns were in chaos, those places only represented tiny little dots on the American landscape; which was why the highway Tom was driving on appeared normal.

  “However, I am not an expert, Mrs. Mayes. It may or may not be possible that your husband accomplished the things you said he told you in your dream. I have to admit, it's somewhat...science fiction to me.”

  “My husband told me where he hid his journal, Pastor,” Jessica replied, keeping her eyes on the snow. “When I opened the journal in my dream, I saw your name.”

  “But Mrs. Mayes, I've never met your husband,” Tom insisted. “I guess it may be possible that your husband attended a service at Hope Springs Baptist Church, and I don't remember.”

  Jessica forced her eyes away from the snow and focused on Tom. Why was this strange Preacher at her side? Why had the man come to her rescue? Jessica didn't know. Tom Braston was a mystery to her. At first, the man had simply been someone who said a few kind words at her husband's gray, rainy Funeral. But somehow, as if by perfect design, Tom had been reintroduced into Jessica's heart and life, in order to play a more important role.

  “My husband knew you,” she spoke in a confident but low voice. “Pastor Braston, I saw your name in my husband's journal. Jack had to have known you. You're the key. You must know where my husband's journal is hidden.”

  Tom glanced at Jessica, seeing a pair of determined eyes, and sighed. “I don't see how.” He checked the gas gauge and shook his head. “We're still an hour away from Hope Springs. I'll need to stop and get gas.”

  “Take the next exit,” Jacob said, speaking up from the back of the van. “The next town is small. We'll all stay in the van, keep our heads down, and wait for you to fill up.”

  “And get some coffee,” Alvin added, laying down in the seat behind Jacob. “Some candy bars would be nice, too.”

  “Yes, okay,” Tom agreed. “If asked, I can make it seem like I'm driving to a meeting which would not be a lie. When we reach the church, we're going to have a meeting in the basement.” Tom checked the rearview mirror, saw what appeared to be empty seats, and then focused back on the road. Ten minutes later he pulled into a small, privately-owned gas station just off an exit that lead into rural areas of the state. It was a snow-soaked area filled with poor families who appeared to live on welfare. The gas station seemed clean and well taken care of. A red truck was parked on the north side of the station. The rest of the parking lot was void.

  “I'll hurry,” Tom promised, as he drove up to a gas island.

  Jessica, who had crawled to the seat Mandy was resting on as soon as Tom took the exit, felt anxiety rush into her heart. Every stop meant the possibility of danger. Yet, from Missouri all the way to Pennsylvania, no danger had arrived. Tom had clearly stated that the Lord, in all His mysterious ways, was keeping danger at a distance. Jessica believed Tom's words, but still…human nature was unavoidable. She felt scared every time Tom stopped for gas or had to pull over and take a cat nap. The poor Preacher was exhausted, but somehow kept driving.

  “Mandy?”

  “I'm awake,” Mandy answered in a sleepy voice, as Tom crawled out of the van. “It'll be okay, Jessie.”

  “Will it?” Jessica wondered. “Will—” She stopped when she heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the gas station parking lot.

  Jacob quickly eased his head up and watched a State Trooper’s car park in front of the gas station. He announced the visitor in a low whisper. A very bad feeling entered Jessica’s heart.

  Get out a powerful voice boomed inside of her mind. Get out now!

  “We have to get out of this van,” Jessica announced. She carefully raised her head and studied the snowy wood line across the street. A single, miserable, lonely back road separated the wood line from the gas station. With night quickly falling, it was possible to escape without being seen.

  Jacob popped his head up again and saw the tough-looking state trooper get out of his car, eye Tom, and then walk into the gas station.

  “Move, now!” he ordered. “Alvin, grab Mandy.”

  Jessica immediately crawled to the side door, eased the door open, and slipped out into the snow.

  “Pastor,” she whispered, just loud enough for Tom to hear, “we're moving across the street.”

  Jessica's voice reached Tom's ears, as he shoved the gas nozzle into the van. His eyes were on the store and the state trooper. The state trooper was at the front counter, talking to a red-headed woman, who appeared to be in her late sixties. Tom quickly turned his back to the store.

  “Go,” he said.

  Jessica glanced over her shoulder, saw Mandy's legs appear, and focused on helping Alvin get her sister out of the van.

  “Wait for Alvin,” Mandy insisted, keeping her head low. Alvin quickly popped out of the van and swooped Mandy up into his arms. Without saying a word, he ran across the street, using the car to block anyone in the store from seeing his escape.

  Jessica waited for Jacob and then ran after Alvin and Mandy, staying low while running like a bent over old man. When her legs reached the snowy wood line, she dove behind a frozen tree. Jacob appeared beside her.

  “We have to get further into the woods,” he ordered everyone. “Keep moving.”

  “Ready?” he asked, lowering Mandy onto her good leg. The bitter cold was starting to bite at his face and creep through the brown coat Tom had bought him.

  “Ready,” Mandy promised, feeling scared out of her mind. She looked through the darkening day. Jessica and Jacob stood behind a tree together. Even though Mandy didn't care for Jacob, she had to admit the guy meant well, and probably wouldn't hesitate to take a bullet for her sister.

  “Ready, sis?”

  Jessica nodded her head, looked into Jacob's concerned eyes, and hurried to another tree, and then another, as she worked her way deeper into the woods. Back at the gas station, Tom continued filling the van with gas. When the van reached its limit, Tom put the nozzle back. He took the credit card and walked into the gas station.

  “Coffee is over there, honey,” the redheaded woman told Tom, as soon as he entered the store. “It’s going to be a rough night. Temperatures are going to drop down into the cellar. We're also expecting a bad storm. It’s a good thing you're not far from Hope Springs.”

  Tom stomped some snow off the boots he was wearing, and slowly removed his brown muffler hat. “I'll be glad to get home,” he told the woman, and then nodded at the state trooper, who was standing beside a brown, wooden counter, pouring coffee into a brown cup.

  “Any accidents?” he asked.

  Trooper Brian Fowly shook his head no. Brian was an arrogant atheist who didn't care for preachers. As a matter of fact, he made it a point to target Christian vehicles.

  “Where are you coming from?” he asked in a stern tone.

  Tom shoved the muffler hat into the pocket of his gray coat, and looked back outside toward the church van.

  “Hopefully, the place I came from helped save souls,” he answered Brian and then offered a polite smile. Brian didn't smile back. The thirty-nine year-old man, who looked sour and rotten from the inside out, just stared at Tom. “I think I'll get some coffee.”

  The redheaded woman leaned down on the front counter and studied the snow. She reminded Tom of a character named Flo from Alice, a TV show which ran in the ‘70s and ‘80s.

  “Nice and quiet in here,” she said, motioning toward the clean aisles and back coolers in the brightly lit store. “I had to turn off the news and start listening to the hum of the coolers. My goodness, it's absolute madness out there.”

  “Yes.” Tom approached the coffee counter and went for a large brown coffee cup. “I’ve been listenin
g to the news on the van’s radio. It's certainly madness.”

  Brian eyed Tom. It was time to show the Preacher who was in charge. “I want to check your van before you leave,” he stated in a voice that left no room for argument. “If you've been listening to the news, then you're aware that Jessica Mayes still hasn’t been apprehended.”

  The redheaded woman broke out laughing. “And you think this man is harboring the most wanted woman in the world? Brian, you're never going to change.” The redheaded woman looked back at Tom to explain, “My nephew doesn't like Christians. He's an atheist.”

  Tom’s stomach tightened. He had to remain calm and smart. “You're more than welcome to search my van,” he told Brian. He set down the coffee cup and put the muffler hat onto his head. “Please, follow me.”

  Brian put down his coffee, too, while shooting his aunt a sour look and followed Tom out into the snow. Tom walked Brian around the church van and opened the side door. Brian quickly pulled a black flashlight from the utility belt wrapped around his waist, snatched open the side door, and began checking the interior. Tom stepped back a few feet and glanced across the road to the woods. He didn't see anyone, so he waited. A few minutes later, Brian stepped out into the snow and slammed the side door shut.

  “What's with all the luggage?” he demanded.

  “Charity items,” Tom explained. “I'm the Pastor at Hope Springs Baptist Church.”

  “Let me see some identification,” Brian ordered.

  Tom took out his wallet, retrieved his driver's license and handed it to Brian. He snatched Tom's driver's license out of his hand and marched to his patrol car. Tom followed the cruel man through the snow and waited to be run through the system. When the system cleared him, Brian had no choice but to return the driver's license.

  “You people are going to lose,” he told Tom and flipped his driver's license at him. “You’re losing now.”

 

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