Special Agent

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Special Agent Page 7

by Dan Arnold


  I nodded in agreement.

  “That has often been the case.”

  “Yeah, religion is a crutch. There’s nothing wrong with a crutch, if you need one, but I don’t need one.” Diondro said, confidently.

  We drove along in silence for a while.

  “Are you a religious person, Mr. Tucker? I hope I didn’t offend you…”

  I smiled.

  “No not at all, Diondro. I’m not a religious person either. In fact, it seems to me, people who are religious tend to dislike people who belong to a different religion. Religion has been the cause of wars and strife for centuries.”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “Why do you suppose there are so many different religions?”

  Diondro had his left leg drawn up and crossed over his right knee. He started tapping his ankle with his right hand.

  “Well, like we said, people make up gods to try and explain why stuff happens, or to help them feel better about life.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Life is hard and horrible things happen all the time, maybe volcanoes, hurricanes, earthquakes or other natural disasters. Those things scare people.”

  “Sure, things like floods and plagues and death.” I said.

  “Right.”

  “We all live just a short time and then we die. All people, everywhere, throughout all of time, have had to think about dying.” I said.

  “Yeah, that’s why they make up stories about re-incarnation and stuff.”

  “Sure, life after death. It’s the same reason there are mummies. The ancient Egyptians, and others, were preparing the bodies for the next life. It’s also the reason for all those stories about ghosts, zombies, vampires and Frankenstein’s monster. People are fascinated, wondering about what happens after we die.”

  He thought about what I said for a moment.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Have you thought about what happens to us after we die?”

  He took a moment to formulate his response. I saw he had now begun to shake his foot as an unconscious nervous habit.

  “Well, nothing happens, I guess. Our bodies just decay and become part of the earth.”

  “What about the person who lived in the body?”

  “What do you mean? The body is the person.”

  I waggled my head ambiguously.

  “I tend to think of my body as just the vehicle that carries me around. The real ‘me’ lives inside the body, but the body is not ‘me’.” I told him.

  “I know what you mean, but I don’t believe that. People are just animals with bigger brains. We have all the same drives and hungers as the other animals.”

  I looked over at him.

  “Really, Then you believe you are nothing more than your biological functions?”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess.”

  “So then, you are no different really from a blade of grass or a banana slug?”

  “Well, obviously I’m different, just like a fish is different from a butterfly.” Diondro said.

  I chuckled in response.

  “Ok, but that difference is relative and completely unimportant. I catch and eat fish, and about five minutes ago, a butterfly splattered against my windshield. Are you saying the fish and the butterfly are just as important and completely the same as you are?”

  He struggled with his thoughts for a moment.

  “Not exactly, what I’m trying to say is humans are by nature animals, but we are more highly evolved animals. We are capable of more complex thought and communication, as well as a greater diversity of creative abilities.”

  “Oh, I see what you mean. No ape ever wrote a screenplay, designed a bicycle, or codified the formula for flight.”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess.”

  “I’ll bet apes don’t spend much time writing poetry, thinking about string theory, and probably haven’t established many religions either. It appears apes really are little more than their basic biological functions.”

  “Well, I’m not sure about that. I think they have personalities and stuff.”

  “I wonder if a personality would be more than just a basic biological function?”

  “Maybe, I don’t know.”

  I left him to his thoughts for a moment, and then I asked another question.

  “What about composing a symphony, designing surgical instruments, studying the complexities of science, comforting those who are hurting, and then of course, what about love?”

  His response was quick, as though already rehearsed.

  “Oh, love really is just basic biology. We feel love, because we need to reproduce or for another reason that effects the survival of the species.”

  “So, all of the emotions are just functions of basic biology.”

  “Well, yeah, I guess.”

  “What about morality?”

  “That’s easy, too. Morality is just the generally accepted behavioral norms a society or group establishes to maintain the health and safety of the group.” He stated confidently. “That’s why people and cultures have such disparities about right and wrong.”

  I decided to challenge him on that point.

  “Actually, they don’t have many disparities.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that all through time, and in virtually every culture there are behaviors which are deemed wrong. There are striking similarities, like generally speaking, murder is wrong, stealing is wrong, lying is wrong, and so on.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe, but that’s because those things threaten the health and stability of the group.”

  “What about conscience? You know within yourself some things are right and some things are wrong.”

  Diondro thought about it for a second.

  “Isn’t it just instinct? If it threatens the survival of the species, then we just naturally feel it.”

  I smiled.

  “Self-preservation is a powerful instinct too, perhaps the most powerful instinct. But when Mrs. Sawyer was being kidnapped, you didn’t concern yourself about your own safety. You also didn’t form a committee to study the morality of the incident. You didn’t even ask others what they thought should be done about the situation. You saw something being done that was wrong, and you did what was right.”

  “Well, it seemed natural to do the right thing.”

  “Then why would a society or group change their minds about what is right and what is wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Do they?”

  I changed lanes to pass an eighteen-wheeler. When I returned to the right hand lane, I looked over at Diondro.

  “Of course, it happens all the time. People don’t really have an unchanging moral standard. The rules change based on the people who make them. Take attitudes about homosexuality as an example. There are very few cultures that have always condoned it and think it’s normal. Over the course of time, they often change their minds and decide it is acceptable, a change that usually signals the end of the culture. Again, generally speaking, murder is wrong, but it seems to be OK in some cultures, as long as you murder the right people. If you murder one person it is probably wrong, but if you murder ten thousand or three million people, then maybe you had a good reason. It’s the sort of thinking that leads to genocide and infanticide, among other things. Other people groups see these murders and turn a blind eye, until it gets too out of hand. Marriage is another example. It exists in some form in pretty much every culture. Most figure it is between a man and a woman, but over the course of time, some figure there are no rules about marriage. They re-define it as a union between two or more loving individuals. Gender or the number of people in a ‘marriage’ is unimportant to them. You see, Diondro, when people make the rules, people invariably change the rules.

  “Well, I guess that’s because the consensus changes as more knowledge is attained.”

  “Oh, so you’re saying basic instinct is unimportant. Conscience is unreliable, traditional morality is unfounded, and higher
thinking or general consensus is the best determining factor. I think you just said morality is best determined by the majority in control?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure that’s what I meant.”

  I chuckled again.

  “That’s because you are marvelously smarter than any animal and there is much more to you, than just your basic biological functions. Diondro, let me tell you something… You are going to do very well in college.”

  Fourteen

  The drive back to Tyler was without incident. After the guard at the gate phoned him to get permission to let us through, we met Tony at his house in the gated community north of Tyler.

  His sprawling, white, ranch style house with a big front porch was up on a hillside, situated in the middle of a five acre lot with trees surrounding it on three sides, and the top of a swing set could be seen rising above the privacy fence that surrounded the back yard. The house faced the road and had a view of the lake for which this gated community was named. Under the circumstances it seemed amusing to me, because it was called “Hide Away Lake.”

  In addition to the guarded gatehouse at the entrance, Tony had installed an electric gate at the end of his driveway. The gate was already open for us as we drove up to his house.

  After I parked the car, Diondro and I emerged to find Tony was waiting for us, having just stepped out on his porch. We climbed the porch stairs to greet him.

  “Tony, meet Diondro Taylor. Diondro, this is my friend Tony Escalante.”

  They shook hands.

  “Pleased to meet you, sir, this is a beautiful location.”

  “Thank you.” Tony said, looking around kind of wistfully.

  I knew Tony was remembering when there had been more life here. He was remembering his wife and son who had died in a car wreck, a little more than a year before. The three bedroom house was too big for Tony alone, and every time he looked at the swing set out back…

  “Tony is a Tyler cop, Diondro. Not just any cop either, he’s the Detective Lieutenant, of the robbery/homicide division.”

  “Wow, that’s impressive.”

  “Diondro, I want you to know I’m personally and professionally impressed by your courage in this thing. What you did for Mrs. Sawyer was amazing enough, but the way you are stepping up now… well, you’re a special kind of man. Don’t you worry either; we’ll make sure you stay safe.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Well, come on in and we’ll get you settled.”

  Tony showed Diondro to his guest room and the guest bathroom.

  Tony came back to the living room alone.

  “So, tell me what happened in Arkansas.” Tony said.

  “Well you’ll probably see something about it on TV, in about twenty minutes, on the five o’clock news. You might even see it on the national news.”

  “There was a reference on CNN to a shootout in Arkansas, just as you drove up, but they hadn’t gotten to the story yet.”

  “I’ll give you the overview and then we can watch the TV news.”

  “Fair enough, what happened?”

  Just then, Diondro came back into the living room.

  “Long story short, I was followed to Arkansas. I found Diondro and whoever was following me, found him too.” I gave Tony a look. I could see he understood my veiled reference to the former Tyler cop, Kirby Wilson.

  “Just as we were leaving, four armed men showed up, and all hell broke loose. Diondro’s Great Uncle was killed, along with the gunmen, and some other folks were hurt. We escaped and we’re here. I’ll be interested to see what the news has to say, because we left before we knew everything that happened. The County Sheriff up there is a friend of mine, and he helped us get away.”

  “You make it sound like we just drove away from the shooting. Tell Detective Escalante what really happened,” Diondro instructed me.

  “Well, we kind of got stuck between the assassins and the men who were guarding a pot farm. We had to wade down a bayou and two of the gunmen jumped us there. I had to put both of them down.”

  Tony looked shocked.

  I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

  “Let’s turn on the news.” I suggested.

  “Hang on a minute. Does Christine know you’re alright?”

  “Yeah, I talked to her on the way here.”

  “Good heavens, John! You might both have been killed.”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah, it was a near thing.”

  “We need to talk…”

  “I know, Tony. We’ll go over all of it later. Right now, I’m tired. Can we just watch the news and go from there?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Are you sure you’re OK?”

  “Yes, I’m just a little the worse for wear. You understand.”

  “Yes, I sure do.”

  Tony turned on the TV which was still set to CNN. An image of Columbia County Sheriff, Wilson Livesque, filled the screen. He was cleaned up, and wearing his official Sheriff’s department, flat brimmed hat, rather than the ball cap he usually wore. His usual cheery countenance was replaced with a very serious demeanor.

  “… No, we are not able to answer that question at this time. This is an ongoing investigation.”

  “Can you tell us how many may have been killed?”

  “There were five persons killed, one in the residence, one just outside the residence, and three more bodies were found in the bayou. At this time we have not identified all of the bodies.”

  “Is it true the homeowner, a man named Andrew Taylor, was killed inside his home?”

  “We can confirm that the owner of the residence, a man by the name of Andrew Taylor was the man killed inside the residence.”

  “Sheriff Livesque, there has been some speculation that this appears to have been a drug related incident…”

  “Again, we are conducting an active investigation at this time. As I said in the official statement; earlier today, at least four heavily armed men attacked this residence and killed the home owner. One of the Deputies from this department responded to the scene and engaged the shooters. They fired multiple rounds at the deputy. The deputy returned fire and shot and killed at least one of the men, the others fled into the woods behind me. We have recovered the bodies of three men from the bayou, who we believe were part of the group that attacked the residence and the deputy. There were five other people who received gunshot wounds in the violence and they are currently being treated in area hospitals. We are not releasing any other names at this time.”

  Did the deputy kill all three of the attackers?”

  “That is unknown at this time.

  “What is the name of the deputy who was involved in the shooting?”

  “Again, we are not releasing any other names at this time.”

  “Was the deputy wounded?”

  “No the deputy was not wounded in the incident.”

  “How many people were involved in the shooting?”

  “Again, this is an ongoing investigation…”

  “I understand that assault rifles with high capacity magazines were used. Do you know where or how the guns and ammunition were acquired?”

  “As I said, this is an ongoing investigation…”

  The reporter finally took the hint. “You can’t get milk from an angry bull”. She turned away from Buddy and faced the camera directly. The camera zoomed in for a close-up of the reporter.

  “Thank you, Sheriff Livesque. So, that is all we have at this time. A 911 call was placed at nine forty seven this morning, stating that there was someone shooting at a residence here on County Road 3807 in Columbia County, Arkansas. This location is about fifteen miles south and west of Magnolia, Arkansas. CNN has confirmed that several people were shot, five of them fatally, including the owner of the residence…”

  The image on the screen was an aerial view of the scene, clearly taken hours earlier and showing all the emergency vehicles parked at the end of the road, with their lights flashing and uniformed officers and fi
remen milling about the buildings.

  Tony turned off the TV.

  “Well, I’m sorry, Diondro. That must have been pretty horrible.” Tony said.

  “Yes sir, it was. It was kind of surreal at the time. I could hardly believe it was happening. If Mr. Tucker hadn’t been there, I guess they would have killed me, for sure.”

  “Diondro, I’m sorry about your Great Uncle Andrew…” I started.

  “… Pot farming? What were they thinking?” Diondro interrupted, shaking his head.

  I realized he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “You need to call your mother. She may have seen the news or heard from someone in your family. Here, use my cell phone and call her, she needs to know you’re alright.”

  “Yes sir, thank you.”

  I lay back against the couch cushions and closed my eyes.

  “Mom, it’s me. Yes, I’m fine. How are you? No, I’m back here in Tyler. I know, mom. No, really I’m fine. Don’t cry, mom… I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you…”

  I shook my head.

  “…but everything is fine. Don’t worry. OK, I know, mom. I love you too. I’ll call you again tomorrow. OK, good bye.”

  He handed my phone back to me.

  “My cell phone is in my bag, but the battery is dead. Is it OK if I charge it up and use it?” He asked.

  “You can charge it, but don’t use it. Don’t answer it if it rings. No texting either. This is only temporary, but it will be important you do not tell anyone where you are. That includes your friends and your family.”

  “That will be hard.”

  “Yep, but you can handle it. It is possible your phone could be used to determine your location. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Only use that phone in a dire emergency. I’ll get you in touch with your mother. Three weeks from now this will all be over and life should get back to something like normal.”

  “J.W., you look done in. Do you want to stay here with us tonight? I cook a mean frozen pizza.”

  “No thanks, Tony. I have things to do. I’ve been gone for three days and can you believe I have a dinner party to go to tonight? I’m leaving now to get ready for that.”

 

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