《The Manifest》


 Chapter 1

    The masses started to gather around the chosen scene close to an hour before the designated time. They were dressed warmly that night because the weatherman was calling for rain, but the patrons still came in droves holding candles they were eager to light up for their cause. The folk attending were of all ages, wearing their beliefs on their sleeves like a badge, unwilling to conceal a thing. Each person felt secure to do so, as they took comfort in the company of others who were all there for the same reason: the vigil to honor their fallen kin.


    The vigil was an exercise of their freedom, something that many ordinary citizens often took for granted. The people who were gathering represented the family of those who made the ultimate sacrifice for their way of life. The men and women had gathered for the right to cry, scream, and voice any dissent they might have for anyone they felt was to blame. When this many people showed up, the press wasn''t too far behind but they kept their distance and never got in anyone''s faces. It was a rare moment as the guys behind the camera were, to a minimum, slightly respectful.


    At first this vigil was something Jessica did out of respect for the ones she loved and lost. To her, the vigil represented a duty she felt obligated to do every time she was called upon. After attending so many of them, they had started to become a little trivial to her. The honor and significance of the event was dwindling with each experience, as many of the vigils were often booked too close together and a lot of the patrons were frustrated as their cause wasn''t causing any positive change with the politicians who didn''t seem to give lick about them or their fallen brethren.


    Yet Jessica was still there anyway, defiant even to her own feelings and ready to light up. To others is was just one candle, but to her it was a significant boycott of the war that at this point disgusted her. Her ongoing petition for their government to end hostilities and follow the advice of John: give peace a chance. A short time ago Jessica started to view such events as a child would a household chore. Like doing the dishes, cleaning your room or raking leaves in the backyard, it slowly became more of an unwanted assignment than an event to look forward to. Something you know that had to be done despite the fact that you didn''t want to do it. As a result, she had started to pick and choose which events to attend and didn''t show up as often as she used to.


    There were even times when Jessica wanted to completely stop attending, but she''d resume again after a short break. Deep inside she knew there never was a choice; fate had made that decision for her a long, long time ago. Jessica had lost so much, and her aunt as well as her expensive therapist believed that going to these vigils would help her recover from the trauma. They assumed, and even hoped a little bit, that being close to others who knew how she felt would be almost like group therapy. Jessica was surrounded by many people who like herself had lost a loved one to the war. Mothers, fathers, wives, sisters and brothers were there, holding their candles and having a moment to grieve and think about what their loved ones died for. Was it really to disarm a militant nation of nasty weapons? Was it for freedom? Or was it for the no-bid billion dollar corporate contracts that fat cat contributors were carelessly given like peanuts to very hungry elephants?


    Regardless for what reasons each protester clung to, their tears were real as was their pain as they used the event to vent those feelings. Jessica didn''t have a son, or a husband, for that matter but she had a family had that been shattered because of the events of the last-half decade. The ongoing war on a concept had broken a lot of families and left a gaping hole in their lives. This was true, for all wars do that and this campaign against terrorism was no exception. Regardless of the politics, everyone seemed to have a beef with the war and how it was being handled, or mishandled in some people''s opinion. She didn''t know when it happened, but at some point the vigils had transformed from moments of pain and became her outlet to protest for an end to hostilities. She no longer wanted revenge for what happened to the people she loved, she just wanted it all to end.


    And yet Jessica kept attending even though it felt like no one seemed to care whether or not she was there. This caused her to always question why she was truly there in the first place. Was it to be rebellious to the constant denials of her father or to show respect for the memory of her mother and brother? She didn''t know for sure, but it just seemed like the right thing to do despite her own inner struggle. She knew that one day she would have to accept what happened, let it go, and move on. Like one of her friends always liked to jokingly tell her: build a bridge and get over it. Good advice when you got down to it, but that didn''t change how difficult it was for her to actually apply it. You could still see a ton of old farts harping about Pearl Harbor every December, and they had every right to be there, so Jessica had a hard time believing anyone was going to get over anything for quite some time. She herself had a hard time letting go of as well, despite the endless hours talking to trained professionals about it. She almost thought that shrinks felt like the last five years was a lottery win for them, as the amount of clients must have tripled at least. Shameful to think, but it was clearly true.


    "Thank you all for coming," the organizer said as she started to share her thoughts on the war and how they felt about the government for waging it. Jessica could see her talking, but never really paid attention to what was being said. If you''ve been to one vigil, she thought to herself, you''ve pretty much been to them all. Jessica lit her candle with everyone else and stood there in silence, looking into the flame as if the answers to all her questions were burning deep inside it. She kept looking down, unable to look all those mothers and wives in the face and share in their grief and sorrow. She had lost someone as well, but compared to them she sometimes felt like her loss wasn''t as significant. She felt like a pot smoker in a room full of crack or cocaine addicts, her issues being immaterial compared to what everyone else was feeling. She had lost so much herself, but could only imagine what it would be like to lose a life mate, her own children... something she herself hoped that she would never have to experience in her lifetime. She wasn''t married; she was only a young, inexperienced twenty-three year old woman who hadn''t lived long enough to know how these people truly felt. It always made her feel out of place; most of the women at the vigil were at least ten to twenty years older.


    Everything had started for Jessica with the death of her mother. She was only eighteen when this had happened, but for many reasons would be the one day she''d never forget. She had been devastated, and took the loss much harder than her father and brother ever had. Her father, in particular, was in complete denial and was never around much to help. After the initial shock had worn off, he bunkered himself into his den and drowned himself in his work and alcohol. He couldn''t look anyone in the eyes and moved all of his work from the offices to his den at home, living a very sheltered life there for the first three years.


    It was Jessica''s brother, who was usually a reasonable guy, that had decided to handle things more directly. He''d marched off to the nearest recruiting station and immediately volunteered for the military. It was a move that had stunned everyone, as he was usually a very passive and diplomatic person. It had turned out his anger and eagerness to hand the enemy their asses had made him quite the soldier. Jessica had received letters from him every month, but each letter depressed her. It was nice to know he was all right, but letter by letter the brother she knew was going away and being replaced by a very efficient killing machine. His letters had detailed how happy to be handing out death to people he thought had deserved it, and it was disturbing on many levels for her. About two years after her bother have shipped out, her father got the call no family ever wants to receive. Jessica was expecting the clich¨¦ of a uniformed soldier delivering a letter like you see in the movies, but this time out it was a call on the phone because they had to move quick before names were released on network television. Her brother had died in an ambush, but had gone down taking as many as he could with him. Her father was very proud of what he had done, which made her protest of the war so much harder to tolerate. In his eyes, she was disgracing not only the memory of her mother but the hard work of her brother to protect their freedom. She didn''t really understand the truth of that statement; she couldn''t approve of all this death when there had been too much bloodshed to begin with.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Jessica had good reason to be there as the tragedy of the last five years had claimed half her family and scarred her for life. Thinking of her mom was too much for her to handle; she could feel a tear running down her cheek. She always tried not to be that person, but there were times when she just couldn''t help it. Jessica wished someone would attend these events with her, but her aunt had kids and a life of her own to deal with. Dad was too deep into his work and often was too drunk to even acknowledge her existence, let alone hang out with her long enough to share a moment. She was so young and so detached, yet longing for someone to be there and share this with her. Being with all these people made sense to her, but it never seemed to fill the void that was present within her. Sometimes she would stare into the flame of her candle for a while, hoping it would blind her so she wouldn''t have to face anyone else for the rest of her life. It never seemed to work.


    As usual, Jessica wasn''t listening to anyone and hoped that this was going to be a brief vigil as she wanted to go home and try to get a decent rest before going back to work tomorrow. She didn''t mean to be so insensitive about it, but going here so many times seemed to have desensitized her from the whole belief of mourning to protest. She felt bad for not caring as much as she should anymore, but overexposure seemed to have drained what confidence she had left in the event.


    Jessica raised her head to see who was speaking now and out of the corner of her eye she could have sworn she saw someone familiar. She put her head down and tried to act like she saw nothing but curiosity forced her to look again. The woman she was looking at was on the other side of the field and yet there was no mistaking that face: it was her mother''s.


    Jessica couldn''t believe her eyes as her hands let go of her candle; it hit the ground and almost burned her foot. She stomped the flame out and looked back up, but the woman that had so resembled her mother was gone. She scrambled to the other side and ran over to the area where she had spotted her.


    She grabbed the nearest woman to her. "What happened to a woman that was standing here just a moment ago?" she asked, rudely and without patience.


    "I don''t know. I''m not paying that much attention to anyone else here." the women answered, slightly annoyed, "Just leave me alone."


    Jessica let the woman go and started to file through the crowd. She didn''t see anyone moving around, but once she''d reached the back of the crowd she saw a woman in a black trench coat entering a small black car that immediately drove away. Knowing the grounds well, she quickly darted across the field and moving as quickly as she could and almost managed to cut the car off as it arrived at the main gate of the park. She couldn''t beat the car to the gate, but as she got to the fence she was able to look into the passenger side and see the woman''s face again.


    There was no doubt this time - it was the same woman she had lost five years ago. She had aged a bit and had a few more wrinkles, but it was her mother. The woman noticed that she was at the gate and turned away from her as the car raced into the main road. She stood there, holding the bars of the gate as though she was a prisoner. She felt trapped and unable to free herself. Her mother was still alive!


    There were so many questions floating around her head at that moment, she didn''t know where to start. Was she there to see her, or was this meeting just a horrible coincidence? She didn''t know, but one thing seemed clearer than ever: things were not as they seemed. She stood there at the gate as the sky started to cry with her, raining down on everyone''s parade. She didn''t move as her feelings about what happened over the last five years started were washed away with her tears. She didn''t know what or who to believe anymore; seeing her mother in that car had changed everything. She didn''t know who to tell first. Did anyone else know, or was this something only her mother knew and kept from everyone else?


    After standing there at the gate for what seemed like hours, she determined there was only one person she should talk to about this right now. She walked back to her car and stepped inside. She paused there for a moment, wondering if this was really the right course of action to take.


    She pulled out of the park and drove as fast as she could to her childhood home. She hadn''t lived there in years, as the relationship with her father was pretty much nonexistent. Using her key to open the front door, she called out for her father but received no answer. It didn''t take a rocket scientist to figure out where he was. She tore off her coat and walked into his den, and sure enough there he was. He was face down into a pile of paper, still working late into the night. He didn''t even notice that someone was there until Jessica slapped a hard hand on the desk. The desk shook and her father, who''d bolted up, seemed a tad surprised.


    "What the..." her father paused for a moment when he realized who it was, "What are you doing here?"


    "What am I doing here?" she repeated. She was eager to rip right into him, but instead she paused for a moment before asking the one question she had come there to ask of him. "How long have you known?"


    "Known what?" her father asked, taken aback by her aggression.


    "About Mom!" she snapped back, "Were you ever going to tell me?"


    "Tell you what?" He seemed confused.


    "That she''s still alive!" Jessica said, kicking the side of her father''s desk in obvious frustration.


    Her father''s face turned to stone. "Jessica, this isn''t funny."


    "I saw her," Jessica replied, trying to remember exactly what had happened, "She was at the vigil tonight."


    "That''s not possible!" her father spat back.


    "Why not?" she asked. "How is this so inconceivable?"


    "Because she''s dead!" he yelled at her.


    "She didn''t look that dead to me tonight," Jessica said, showing no signs of wanting to let this matter go.


    "Look," he started as he tried to approach her calmly, "perhaps it was just someone who just looked like your mom; I mean there are people out there who just have that kind of resemblance. I think the kids on the net call them doppelgangers. Maybe you saw someone you thought looked like her and concluded it was her because that''s what you wanted to see. The mind can play tricks sometimes hun..."


    Jessica grabbed a glass from her father''s desk and threw it against the wall. It shattered into a million pieces, again shocking her father.


    "I''m not making this up!" she roared at him, "Mom''s alive!"


    Her father, stunned by her outburst, really wasn''t ready to handle something like that. Instead of reaching out to her to try and calm the wild woman down, her father backed away into another room. She could hear the lock on his door click, signaling the end to their short yet disturbing conversation. It was obvious that her father didn''t want to deal with this; the mere suggestion scared him. Chances were that her actions were too much for him to handle, but Jessica couldn''t help how she felt any more than he could. She couldn''t read her father at all at this point. She kept asking herself whether or not this was an act. Regardless of whether he knew or not, he wasn''t going to lift a finger to help her find the truth about her mother. She was going to have to do this herself. Jessica picked up her coat and slowly walked to the door of her father''s den. As she stepped left his sight, Jessica knew that there must be someone out there that could help her. She didn''t know where to find that help. She''d have to try to find someone in the morning, after she had a chance to sleep on it. Jessica left the key on a table by the main door and quietly left the house.


    She would never come home again.

 Chapter 2

    It always started early in the morning when the alarm went off beside his bed, and habitually ended when he parked in his usual spot right outside the building where he worked. As always, he would resist that urge to hit the snooze for a fifth time and begrudgingly hit the showers. Then he''d fight the craving to get off the highway several times, to avoid driving himself to work. Each exit closer was a greater struggle, but he carried on. Now, parked before the building where he made his living, the inner conflict returned; he was fully aware of what he had to do. Deep down inside he wanted to go back home, veg on the couch with Meredith and make fun of her soaps while she tried to watch them, munching loudly on cheesy puffs. Yet today that was not an option, and he knew it. Not when Tuck had a few new clients coming in to plead their case and barter them down to a good price for their services.


    Being a private investigator wasn''t the most glamorous job these days, but he knew it paid the bills. And no one in his work place was better at squeezing a client for every penny they could get, so it was essential that he be present for these meetings. Even though Edgar Willis was very good at what he did, that didn''t mean he always enjoyed his work. He was just like everyone else: one miracle lottery ticket away from retirement, and this mundane job was the fall back plan. Things could always been worse, he thought to himself. At least he still wasn''t on the force. If he were, then he would definitely be late and likely to get another rip from the staff sergeant. That was one thing he didn''t miss since leaving the force; those early morning rants from that fat, donut munching bastards that hadn''t seen the street in years. He often wanted to punch those ignorant sergeants in the nose, which instigated his desire to make detective as quickly as he possibly could, but that only led to more political bullshit rather than less, and that''s what caused him to eventually burn out and quit.


    Deep down Edgar liked the force and even missed it sometimes, but then he''s remember all the politics and ass kissing and those feelings would fade. He was envious of his Dad and the times he had served the people. The bullshit wasn''t as obvious, and it made ignorance truly worthy of being considered blissful. Today that bullshit was in your face too much to be ignored, as party lines were clearly drawn in the sand. People were being forced to pick sides, even though black and white never really worked that well in a high definition world. Working privately gave him the freedom he''d never had on the force. In Washington D.C., the capital of all things political, it was easy for a PI to flourish and make a good penny. There were always politicians, lobbyists and other layers of scum in the city that wanted him to do their dirty work. While he had the power to dictate what did or did not qualify as a good job, the money made some of the jobs easier to tolerate.


    Thinking of those bills and all the alimony he still had to keep shelling out was more than enough to make Edgar think better of his potential day off and get out of the car. He was only a robust thirty-eight, but still managed to give a deep huff as he heaved himself out of the car. Being behind the desk had made him a little lazy but it was what he did now. He had his own people to do the grunt work now that he and his partner were in charge of operations. That didn''t mean he wasn''t willing to do a little grunt work, but he got to pick which he felt like doing and delegate whatever bull he wanted to avoid.


    It was sunny outside and the day was looking to be a scorcher, so Edgar showed up for work wearing only a casual dress shirt and some beige colored trousers. He had a jacket but carried in with him as it was too hot to wear. He had no intention of going into the field today and would be content to rest in the cool confines of his air-conditioned office. Today was going to be a typical Monday: talk to a few potential clients, listen to them and their lame stories, and then decide if any of them were capable of financing the operations they were demanding out of them. Only those close to him knew that he had an uncanny ability to tell which ones were going to be able to pay up and which ones were going make the effort to stiff them. This led to good business deals as Edgar''s people never questioned his instincts, because they all liked having a payday every now and then. His gut was the deal breaker when it came to any business transaction, and he learned a long time ago to never question his gut. If he wasn''t feeling right about any job, it just didn''t happen. Period.


    As he was stepping into the elevator, Edgar watched a young man darting to get inside the doors before they closed. Always in the mood to collect a little good karma this early in the week, Edgar held the elevator door open for the young man.


    "Thank you," the young man huffed, stumbling into the elevator.


    "What floor are you looking for, son?" Edgar inquired.


    "Third, please." the young man gasped, trying to catch his breath.


    Same floor as me, Edgar thought to himself as he hit the button, pretending it wasn''t already pushed. Wondering what the young man was there for, Edgar remained calm and kept watching as the young man exited the elevator first. Keeping a distance, he strolled a few steps behind him while watching the young man walk through the door to his place of business. There wasn''t a front desk receptionist, but rather a handful of workers who did all that kind of work collectively. They all used to be cops that were used to doing their own paperwork, and he and Tuck preferred to keep it that way. Not having an official receptionist saved them a bundle on payroll, which meant more for them to split. Yet not having someone at the door also meant people could walk in at any time, welcome or not. Something they''d likely have to address in the future, Edgar thought, as he watched the young man walk into the large room and stop before the small clutter of desks


    "I''m looking for an Edgar Willis." he asked out loud.


    "Present," Edgar called from behind, swiping the brown envelope right out of the young man''s hand. "I assume this is for me?"


    "Yes, it is." The young man answered, as he wasn''t used to be people stepping up willing to accept their summons. "You''ve been served."


    "I know the drill, sport." Edgar said, "Thanks for your efforts and have a good day."


    The young man was stunned for a moment, and then immediately vacated the office. Once inside his own office, Edgar set his warm coffee down on the desk and carefully started to open the brown envelope.


    "What is it boss?" one of his worked called from his desk, "Are we being sued again?"


    "Not this time," Edgar responded, examining the contents. "We got a little sloppy with our surveillance. It''s a restraining order."


    "From who?" the man asked.


    "Whom," Edgar corrected, as he enjoyed being an occasion grammar tyrant. "It doesn''t matter, this case is pretty much over anyway. The client isn''t paying us anymore. Get back to work, Davis!"


    Startled, Davis quietly turned back to his desk and returned to work. Edgar didn''t like to be harsh with him but sometimes it was necessary when he got a little nosey. Edgar sat down and sipped his coffee while reading the fine print of the restraining order. He always loved looking for loop-holes that would allow them to continue their work whenever they were paid enough to go that far. He knew there was always a way to get around everything and he could tell what kind of lawyer the person had by how the order was written prior to approval. Some were works of art, iron clad and tougher to crack thank a safe. Others were like Swiss cheese: full of holes and easy to eat up. Reading it was almost as fun as a morning crossword, and as Edgar was sitting there looking it over as his business partner came into the room.


    "Restraining order?" the man said, quite aware of what was going on.


    "That would be an affirmative," Edgar replied.


    "Do we need to get around it?" Tuck asked.


    "Not need." Edgar said, "It''s for the Jordan case."


    "Then no harm, no foul." his partner said, strolling to the other side of the room. Allen Joseph Tucker, known to all his buddies as Tuck, was an ex-cop just like of the other guys there. He also couldn''t stomach any of the politics he''d witnessed in the force either, as his superiors were always too busy kissing ass and trying to protect their precious careers rather than trying bust the bad guys and make the city a better place to live. Tuck eagerly quit the force soon after Edgar because Edgar made him an offer he couldn''t refuse. Tuck also liked being his own boss, and despite Edgar''s occasional gut feeling, they were partners with an equal say in how things were run around there.


    "Is there anything else?" Edgar asked, putting down the legal paper for a moment.


    "Yes," Tuck replied, "We have a few potential clients coming in today, and I was hoping you would do us the honor of sitting in and helping us land a few new accounts. You know, to keep the lights on."


    "How many appointments do we have this morning?" Edgar asked.


    "Only two," Tuck answered, "But the second has a rather deep pocket."


    "Then why is he coming to us?" Edgar asked cheekily.


    "Hey, be good today," Tuck said, standing up to leave, "I know we''re not starving, but we could use the new clients to make sure we never become desperate and have to some cases we all hate doing."


    "I''ll do my best, pops." Edgar said, giving him a faint smile.


    "That''s all I ask," Tuck acknowledged, "We could use a few new clients rather than the same old guys asking for the same old jobs."The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Tuck was always eager every time a new person came in looking for their services. Edgar didn''t care; he would hear out the potential new clients out and then decide if each case is worth taking or not. As it turned out, the two clients that came in were just the same old guys looking for the same old jobs. Despite his early desire to toss both clients out on their duff, Edgar agreed to Tuck''s request to take some time, think about it and weigh their options carefully. Edgar wasn''t a fool, and knew that they couldn''t turn everyone out if he wanted paychecks to pay the bills, buy the groceries and keep the loud, ear-splintering ex-wife from harping to her lawyer about missed alimony payments. The same old jobs might not be everyone''s cup of tea, but they did the trick and kept everyone busy until something really juicy and unique came along. That rarely happened, and Edgar didn''t mind the space between them because those good cases always turned out to be charity cases. Charity definitely didn''t go well with alimony, so he tried to distance himself away from those cases as often as possible despite the flair they had for originality.


    Edgar was just about to call for a lunch run when a young woman who looked to be around twenty-something showed up without an appointment. The detective could smell a charity plea a mile away, and she was reeking of it. Edgar immediately bolted out of his office, to cut anyone off from being lured in by her bleeding heart. He motioned to one of his men to back off as he quickly approached the young lady. She seemed like a decent person, but there was something that led Edgar to believe she was here for something important and likely expensive to investigate.


    "Hey there," he called out to her, "Can I help you?"


    "Yes, please." she softly replied, trying to greet him with a smile, "I''m looking to hire a private investigator."


    "You seem too young to be married," he started with a smirk, as he continued to analyze her with a quick glance. "And I don''t see any rocks on your hand, so I doubt this is one of those ''I think my fianc¨¦ is cheating can you take some pictures of him going to the Ritz with his secretary'' kind of case."


    "Quite right," she confirmed, "No husbands or fianc¨¦s here just yet. My name is Jessica Johnson - and you are?"


    "The guy in charge of this outfit," Edgar sharply responded as he motioned his partner to keep his distance and go back to his office, "I''m getting the vibe that this isn''t going to be a vanilla, run of the mill case."


    "I need to hire someone to find a missing person." Jessica quickly answered.


    "When did he or she go missing?" Edgar asked, trying not to seem too eager to get information.


    "The same day she was declared dead." Jessica answered.


    Edgar could tell that many people in the room were interested in the case and were hanging off of every word.


    "Who declared her dead?" Edgar inquired.


    "The government." Jessica said.


    "And let me guess," Edgar continued, "Her body was never found?"


    "Her remains were never found nor positively identified." Jessica added.


    "Why would the government declare her dead?" one of Edgar''s younger cohorts suddenly asked. The whole room at this point had stopped working and were all curious to hear more. Edgar felt this was the time to relocate the conversation.


    "That is indeed an interesting question," Edgar started, "But not one you''re going to get an answer to. Ms. Johnson, if you please."


    Edgar made a motion to his office, where they could continue away from the prying ears of his people. As Edgar strolled into his office and closed the door behind him, away from prying ears that had cases that required their attention.


    "Does this mean you''re going to take my case?" Jessica asked, eagerly hoping this was a good sign.


    "No," Edgar answered, walking over to his desk and huffing as he sat down into his leather captain''s chair. "I just have a habit of wanting to know all the facts before I make a decision. Now you said the government declared this person dead. This only occurs when the death in question is part of an event that is declared a federal disaster. So which one was it? Are we talking about a killer twister? Earthquake? Hurricane Katrina?"


    "The crash of a commercial airliner," Jessica replied.


    Edgar leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath "Makes sense. F.A.A. is a federal agency so they would declare passengers dead, especially if the flight had no survivors. Do you think this person survived the crash and just didn''t remember where he or she came from? Or is this a case of the person not making the flight in time, and the passenger''s name wasn''t removed from the official manifest?"


    "I don''t claim to know how she managed to survive the crash," Jessica replied, as her eyes began to tear up. "All I know is that she did, and I need someone to find her for me."


    Edgar didn''t know what was going on exactly, but he was sure the young woman genuinely believed her own story and wanted to find this person. Rather than patronize her just yet, he handed the young woman a Kleenex box and returned to his seat.


    "How do you claim to know this?" Edgar knew it was a tough question, but there was a reason why she was sitting in his office and Edgar was eager to know it.


    "I saw her," Jessica told him, "We were at the same anti-war vigil and I just bumped into her. All this time I thought she was dead and lost to me forever. It was a little shocking to suddenly bump into her after so much time had passed."


    "I can only imagine." Edgar responded, searching for any signs of a fraud. He couldn''t find any. "Let''s talk about the alleged death that has suddenly lost its credibility. I need to know the details. When and where did this occur?"


    Jessica took a deep breath. "September 11th."


    That stopped Edgar dead in his tracks. He paused, needing a little time to digest the impact of that statement, as he also noticed that Jessica was nice enough to give him that moment to let it sink in. After scratching his four day old scruff about it for a few moments, Edgar also took a deep breath. "I assume you''re talking about the same September 11th that I think you''re talking about, correct? The September 11th, right? "


    "Yes, I am." Jessica quickly confirmed, "My mother was on American Airlines flight 77 that day. My family was told by the government that she was onboard the plane that was used to attack the Pentagon."


    Edgar was stuck. For a rare moment he was tongue-tied and wasn''t sure what to say. He collected his thoughts and tried again.


    "Alright," Edgar started as he resumed scratching his scruff "Let''s try this again. Are you sure there isn''t a chance she might have missed the flight and not told anyone about it?"


    "No." Jessica immediately replied, "She was on that flight. Back then security was completely lax and we were able to walk her right to the gate."


    "We?" Edgar repeated.


    "My brother was with me." She replied, "We both walked her right to her gate and watched her get on board. She was on the plane; that much I know. She didn''t jump off the ramp at the last second or hide until the plane left. She was excited to get onboard because she was going to visit her sister for the first time in almost a year."


    Edgar was suddenly relieved he had brought her into his office. Something like this would have set the lobby on fire. No one would have been able to get any work done without talking about 9/11 conspiracy theories all day. Edgar might as well send everyone home at that point cause nothing was getting done. Edgar was fighting an urge to replace his coffee with something stronger, but instead he collected himself and chose to carry on, regardless of the situation and how damn ridiculous it seemed.


    "But if she survived the crash," Edgar continued, "Then why didn''t it make the news? I mean, every network was pretty much unanimous regarding survivors. If she was on the plane, how the hell did she manage to get out of it alive?"


    "I said I don''t know!" Jessica repeated, "That''s why I need your help."


    "That''s an understatement," Edgar whispered to himself, believing that Jessica might need a different kind of help but didn''t say it out loud.


    "We have to find her," Jessica added, "When we do, feel free to ask her about it as much as you want. I don''t care about the why, I just want her back!"


    "I have a theory," Edgar started, as his patience was wearing thin, "I think she used a blanket the steward gave her as a parachute to float to safety just before the plane smashed into the Pentagon. I''m surprised no one else thought of this before now."


    His gut was starting to give him the impression this might not be the kind of case he could afford to take on, both physically and mentally.


    "There''s no need to make fun of this," Jessica said, her frustration apparent, "I''m trying to hire you to find my mother."


    "Well I have news for you sister, you''re not hiring anyone." Edgar sensed it was high time for a reality check. "Not only do I suspect this isn''t the first private agency you''ve approached about this, I''m curious to know how the police reacted to this story when you passed it by them. Were you laughed out of the building, or just told to take off and stop wasting their time?"


    "How do you know I went to the police?" she quietly asked.


    "Because despite having your life savings in your pocket, which I doubt is anymore than a few grand, you were hoping someone at the station would take up the case for free and put this on the people''s dime." He paused for a moment, realizing how much he was upsetting her. The truth was more hurtful than insults when told the right way. "I''m not trying to question what you think you saw at the rally, but you have to admit what you''re asking us to believe is really out in left field. That plane hit the building and blew up! Nobody on board could have survived that! I don''t know what you want me to do about it. Even if I took the job to find your mother, you can''t afford that kind of manhunt. The last time I checked P.I. doesn''t stand for good will."


    "So you won''t help me?" Jessica asked, trying to hold back tears.


    "I don''t think I''m capable of finding the answers you want," Edgar answered, "I don''t think anyone is."


    Edgar wasn''t being fully honest about that, but the kind of search she was asking for was going to be very expensive and there was no way she could afford it. He also wasn''t prepared to give up time, money and manpower to pursue it, not for a story this fucked up either.


    "I''m sorry to have wasted your time." Jessica picked up her coat and angrily stormed out of the office. Edgar noticed as she left that her shoulders were slouched a little, the kind of posture of someone who''d gone a few rounds in the ring and was almost ready to toss in the towel. Edgar didn''t like being the bad guy for cases like that, but no one else in the building had the backbone to do it. It was an ugly thing to do, especially to someone reaching out for help, but good intentions doesn''t pay the bills.


    Tuck watched the young lady leave, then strolled into the office with a disapproving look, "I realize this is probably a case we didn''t want, but did you have to make her cry?"


    "Sorry about that, Mr. Rogers." Edgar sarcastically replied as he took a large slurp of his coffee. "I could have served it with milk and cookies and it still would have upset her. It was the rejection itself that turned on the ducts, not my delivery of it."


    "What the hell was that about anyway?" Tuck asked.


    Edgar took a few moments to explain the case, but when he mentioned 9/11, Tuck loudly interrupted.


    "Whoa, now that''s what I call a serious nut job." Tuck said, rubbing his temples, "Thank goodness you had the ability to resist the mystery and show her the door. Do you think she''ll find someone to take up her cause?"


    "I don''t know." Edgar said as he stood up and walked over to his window. "I doubt it, unless they had their own reasons.


    Edgar watched from his window as Jessica leave the building and cross the street. She paused for a moment at the corner and the started to walk away. As Edgar watched her fade into the crowd he wondered if there was someone out there willing to hear her out or worse, if there was someone out there who would believe her.

 Chapter 3

    The old man watched the video in his study from the comfort of his customized wheelchair. The elegant, hand-crafted cart had been his legs for the last fifteen years. Despite being surrounded by lavish couches and easy chairs in the study he didn''t feel like wasting the energy to hop from one chair to merely sit in another. This day, however, the old man was more intent on watching a sixty inch plasma screen, as it gave him quite a spectacle to observe. One of his many contacts from the police station had heard about what happened and had brought a copy of the security tape to the old man.


    He listened very carefully as the woman, clearly emotional and distraught, told the police her tale of woe. He could tell that the officers didn''t believe a single word, and were more interested in their next doughnut rather than her outlandish fable. They thought she was a raving loony, and that her story would land her in a rubber room one day. Yet the old man could feel the passion in her tone, and sense the anger in her voice. Even if there was a perfectly logical explanation for what had happened, the old man watching had no doubt the young woman believed what she claims to have seen. He could tell that by the way she tried to convince everyone of what had occurred at that vigil.


    When the tape ended, the old man put his automatic chair in reverse and parked it neatly behind his desk. With arms folded he sat there and slowly digested the words he had heard from the young lady in the video. He didn''t know what to make of them. Part of him wanted to believe her; he so badly wanted this to be the case. Another part of him told him that it was impossible and foolish to consider. It was just as probably that the poor young woman might be mistaken, and in need of professional help. As he sat there in deep thought, the old man looked back across the desk at the man who had brought the video to his attention.


    The police detective sitting before the old man had been on his payroll for quite sometime. Nothing illegal, but it never hurt to have your ear to the door when people might be mentioning your name or the name of people you might be associated with. Whenever the detective got something that he thought the wealthy old bugger might be interested in, he brought it over so that he could score some extra cash to help with his gambling debts. This tape itself seemed like a gamble but he was hoping the fish would bite.


    And bite he did.


    "How much to keep this?" the old man quietly asked.


    "Ten grand." the detective coldly answered, feeling rather confident this was more important than the last few things he''d passed over his desk.


    The old man paused for a moment and then nodded in approval.


    "What happened to the young woman after she left the station?" he asked with intense curiosity.


    "She approached half a dozen private investigators in the hopes that someone would take the case." The detective answered, "Based on what I''ve heard from my sources, no one wanted to touch it with a ten foot pole."


    "Did she happen speak to anyone that I might happen to have done business with before?" the old man inquired.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "As a matter of fact she did." The detective said, with an amused smile on his face. "I was talking to an ex-colleague of mine downtown, and I was told she was as his office this morning. You''ve worked with his boss before: Edgar Willis."


    "Ah, Mr. Willis." the old man repeated with a stern tone. The mere mention of the name appeared to bring a sour look upon his face.


    "She pitched that crazy story to him personally," The detective continued, "It turns out Mr. Willis didn''t react to it very well and asked her leave."


    The old man cracked a smile. "I''m sure Edgar found the story intriguing, but turned it down because of the client''s lack of funding. He and Mr. Tucker are not fond of charity work."


    "No, they are not." The detective concurred, "Not many P.I.''s are."


    The old man chuckled again, and then used a remote to rewound the tape to the beginning. "That will do for now, Mr. Jenkins. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I''ll have twenty thousand wired into your account later today. You''ll have it by day''s end."


    Jenkins was rather startled but delighted. "Thank you very much, Sir Norsberg. As usual, it''s a pleasure doing business with you."


    The detective grabbed his coat, and showed himself out.


    Norsberg didn''t even wave; he just restarted the tape and watched intently again as Jessica Johnson talked to the police. She was so determined to convince them that her mother, who was last seen boarding Flight 77 on September 11th, was spotted alive at the vigil days earlier. The cops not only declined to file any reports, they also asked her if she knew where Elvis and Osama were, leading the young lady to leave the office in tears. He rewound again and again, watching her plead her case.


    "I saw her!" she yelled out loud to no one in particular, "I don''t know how, but she''s alive!"


    Norsberg stopped the tape once more and sat there in silence. He looked young Jessica in the eyes, and knew in an instant that this was something that was worth perusing. Even if this were nothing more than a wild goose chase, the idea of leaving such a stone unturned was too much for him. He badly wanted to turn it over, just to be a hundred percent sure what was underneath. Even if her story turned out to be pure rubbish, the amount spent would be a trivial price to pay for that knowledge. Without hesitation, he pressed a button on his phone; moments later a well dressed servant came into the massive study.


    "Sir Norsberg," the man said with a slight bow.


    "I need you to contact Mr. Allen Tucker," Norsberg said, shocked to hear the words coming from his own mouth, "I want to meet with him and Mr. Willis for lunch tomorrow. Make the necessary reservations, and tell them to meet me at the usual place at half past noon."


    "You have therapy tomorrow." the servant reminded him.


    "So I do," Norsberg recalled, "Set it for the day after instead. I''ll have to show a little patience." He looked up at the servant with a hard stare, "Do not take no for an answer."


    "Understood, Sir Norsberg." The servant said, before leaving.


    Norsberg watched his servant quickly vacate the room, off to ensure the errand was promptly carried out. He looked back at the television and observed the passion and confusion in Ms. Johnson''s face. She didn''t know what to believe anymore. He watched the video several times more.


    The old man was very quiet for the rest of the day. The tape had consumed him as he too wanted to know the truth. He wanted to know so badly, he was willing to contact someone he hadn''t talked to in years and didn''t he have any interest in working with ever again. He was willing to pay anyone whatever they wanted to kick that stone over and find out what was really going on. Considering the circumstances, it was the least he could do for her.

 Chapter 4

    The last few days was about as weird as it could get for Edgar Willis. Meeting with Jessica Johnson and hearing her story had rattled his cage greatly. So when Friday finally came along, he was more than eager to hit his favorite bar and hang out with ex-partners from the force and talk shop. Being an cop for the better part of a decade made Edgar welcome to hang out with the guys, especially if he was willing to use his privately generated funds to buy a few rounds. Even though he liked being there and with the men he used to work with, business wise it was a good idea to remain in the good graces with the boys in blue. You never know when you''ll need something from them and being on good terms made arm twisting less of a chore. Edgar strolled into the bar and slapped down two twenties and bought a few brews for himself and off duty officers sitting at the bar. While they were slamming down their long necks, many of them were talking shop but Edgar was still deep in thought about the messed up stuff that had happened earlier that day. After hearing a few stories, Edgar departed and went to his own table to dwell on the frustrations of his day alone. After nursing his beer for a few moments, he noticed Tuck walk into the bar and motioned him to order a few more drinks. Tuck came back not only with more brews for Edgar but with some honey garlic wings and a side of Jack Daniels for himself. After watching his partner wolf down a wing or two, Edgar broke the silence.


    "Do you think I was too mean to her?" he asked his partner.


    "You mean the nine eleven chick?" Tuck said, tearing off the side of a drum like a hungry raptor on a fresh carcass.


    "It''s clear that she was obviously shocked by what she saw," Edgar recalled, "Regardless if there''s a logical explanation for it or not. No one walks into a station full of cops and blurts out a story like that if she didn''t in her own way believe what she saw. She really believes her mother is alive."


    Edgar stopped talking and again tried to drown his curiosity in alcohol. It wasn''t a good habit, but it kept him out of real trouble.


    Tuck stopped eating and looked back at Edgar, "You want to take this case, don''t you?"


    "No, no, no... never!" Edgar exclaimed, "I do not want this case! I just mean it''s a shame no one can help her. Even if I wanted to, which I am not confessing too, we can''t afford to spare the time and manpower for it anyway. There''s no money in in, and this would take a very long time to see through."


    "You''re preaching to the choir on that," Tuck confirmed, "I wish we had a client base solid enough to take any case we wanted to just for the hell of it, but our business has barely been up and running for close to eight years. We don''t have the power or the finances to drop what we''re doing for what is likely the mother of all goose chases. One day when we''re more settled in, we''ll have the power and freedom to make that choice. Until then, Uncle Ben rules."


    "I know. Uncle Ben''s the man." Edgar took another swig and sank a hand into his face. Uncle Ben was their nickname for that guy who graced the one hundred dollar bill. Right now when he talked, bullshit and pretty much everything else went for a long stroll. Tuck was right however, and until they were more stable and had a base to work off of, they couldn''t take the case regardless of how he felt.


    "We are not in the business of conspiracy theories, that''s someone else''s job." Tucker gestured to another person in the bar. In a far off corner sat a nerdy looking man with glasses and a tall mixed drink, eyes locked on his notebook computer.


    "Of course," Edgar said with a grin as he finally realized who Tuck was referring to. "Do you think I should talk to him about it? Pick his brain and see what falls out?"


    "He''s good at what he does," Tuck added, "And you can never have too many friends who work for the police."


    Tuck was right. You could never have too many friends in this business, especially when they have badges. Edgar drained his bottle and walked up to the bar. He ordered another beer and a side of garlic bread. When served, he carried them both to the young man in the corner booth. He was head down into the notebook and typing away at a furious speed. Edgar caught his attention when he sat down and place the garlic bread on the table.


    "Jerome Ryan," Edgar said as he sat down, "I''m not sure you know who I am. I used to work for the force a while back..."


    "Edgar Willis, private investigator." Jerome said without even moving his eyes away from the computer, "To what do I owe the honor of your presence?"


    "I hear you''re quite the connoisseur when it comes to the subject of conspiracy theories." Edgar replied, tossing the garlic bread onto the table. "I have something that is bothering me a bit and I was told you''re very knowledgeable regarding certain government cover ups."


    Jerome slowed peeled himself away from the notebook and grabbed a gooey piece and took a big bite. "You''ll have to be a little more specific. There are a lot of government cover-ups. Which theory happens to be nagging your fragile little noodle?"


    "Flight 77," Edgar said without hesitation. "I have someone whose been asking some really eccentric questions, the kind that don''t gel with the man''s official story."


    Jerome looked back up with an excited grin and sat back into chair and sighed. "9/11 and the Pentagon. Man that one is growing into one of the finest in our nation''s history. What part did this person have a problem with?"


    Edgar couldn''t believe he was going to ask, but took a swig of his beer and did anyway. "What are the odds of someone surviving that kind of crash?"


    "Well, that''s a trick question." Jerome responded, before gnawing more on his piece of bread, "because in order for someone to survive the crash, there has to be one in the first place."


    Edgar was taken back by the comment. "What are you trying to say? I mean we all saw it on television. We watched the building burn."


    "I''m not disputing that part." Jerome countered, "What I''m saying is there are a lot of people who are not 100% sure what hit the Pentagon, but I am quite certain it wasn''t a fully loaded aircraft, especially one as massive as the 757."


    "I''m curious to what makes you come to that conclusion," Edgar said as he took another slug of his beer, fully interested in what he was saying.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "First of all," Jerome started, "That 757 had over fifty thousand pounds of rocket fuel. That much fuel should have burned for days and turned that entire wing of the Pentagon into ash. We''re talking hotter than napalm, which means the fire didn''t match the amount of fuel that was alleged to have been on Flight 77, which was supposed to fly across the country to California. That bitch was fully loaded. And if the fire wasn''t that hot, then there should have been some pieces of the plane left over. There''s no wings, no fuselage, no bodes, no luggage, and not even a piece of the tail section! If anything, at minimum the engines should have been recovered because those bastards are made of titanium and are virtually indestructible. I could go on for hours about the stuff the ''pilots for 9/11 truth'' have been preaching, but what really pisses me off is the lack of video footage of this crash."


    "Well, there''s a bit of a difference between New York and Washington." Edgar responded, trying to coax him on. "I mean it''s a bigger city and with that comes a higher chance of someone having a camcorder handy."


    Edgar''s answer seemed to anger Jerome.


    "That''s not what I mean!" He called out.


    "It''s not?" Edgar asked. "What''s bothering you then?"


    "This is not some downtown station we''re talking about here, Edgar." Jerome started to rant, "It''s the fucking Pentagon! The ultimate think tank and home base for the strongest military on the whole god damned world! Every room in this building is under some kind of video surveillance, so how could there not be a single camera that didn''t catch any image of what happened?"


    "Wow," Edgar said, as he hadn''t really considered that part. "That is actually quite weird when you think about it."


    "The mere suggestion is just flat out insulting," Jerome continued, "And don''t even get me started on the footage from the gas station and the hotel. They would had perfect views of the incident and were taken by the feds less than an hour after the crash. There is video that shows what happened, but someone doesn''t want us to see it."


    Edgar was becoming more and more fascinated as Jerome rambled on, "If there really is footage of the incident, then why doesn''t our government want us to see it?"


    Jerome cracked a smile, "Because it''s the 9/11 version of the ''Zapruder'' film. Like the footage Zapruder filmed in Texas when Kennedy was shot, the film shows something that discredits the official story. Many of us are sure that footage from these cameras will show that it wasn''t a plane that hit the Pentagon."


    "Okay," Edgar said, "If it wasn''t a plane that hit the Pentagon, what do you think it was?"


    "A cruise missile," Jerome answered.


    Edgar was now in full devil''s advocate mode and having a lot of fun with this. "I didn''t realize Osama had access to cruise missiles. I mean why would he use planes if he had that kind of firepower to work with?"


    "He doesn''t." Jerome said.


    "So who hit the pentagon then?" Edgar eager asked, hoping to see where Jerome was going with this.


    "I''m not sure, but it wasn''t an airliner hijacked by box cutter welding minions of Allah." Jerome popped the last bite of his bread into his mouth and then started on a new piece. "Like I previously stated, the fire is inconsistent with rocket fuel and again there were no parts on the ground consistent with any crashed airliners. Usually experts can take pieces from any plane wreckage and put all of them back together like a kid with a few boxes of legos. We''ve had planes shatter like glass into the ocean and experts still have been able to assemble over seventy percent of them in some cases. But here they can''t even bother to try to put it back together, and claim that the entire plane burned up when the fuel ignited. Last but not least the alleged plane just happened to hit a wing that was under renovations, which resulted in minimal casualties within the Pentagon. Talk about the mother of all coincidences. When you add all these up, they all point the same thing that has worried many since day one: government conspiracy and cover up."


    Edgar gave up the fight and drowned his loss in what was left of his brew. He had a lot of things racing through his mind, but after all that he had heard that day there was only one question on his mind.


    "If we concede that the plane didn''t hit the Pentagon like some are saying," Edgar suggestion, "Then what the hell happened to Flight 77 and its passengers?"


    Jerome sat back and grinned, "That my friend is the sixty thousand dollar question. Just because people out there believe something fishy is going on doesn''t mean we have all answers. It just means we can smell the bullshit and don''t buy the cookie cutter story the Whitehouse and it''s crooked commission has been trying to ram down our throats for the past half a decade. It''s a denial of the official story, not an embrace of all the crazy shit."


    Edgar needed to stay on topic, "So if the plane never crashed, what happened to the passengers? Could they still be alive?"


    Jerome could tell that Edgar was genuinely interested in what was going on, and took out a business card and started to write something on the back of it. "If that plane didn''t hit the Pentagon, anything is possible."


    While Edgar was mulling over that answer, Jerome passed a card over to Edgar. It was his business card, and Jerome had written some had some web addresses on the back.


    "I''d recommend taking a gander at a few of these sites." Jerome informed him, "Once you go through a few of them, you''ll realize it''s time to stop drinking the kool-aid and look at the world with open eyes. It''s time to look deeper into the rabbit hole and see how pouched we all are."


    After looking at the card for a moment, Edgar stood up. "Thanks for your time. I might come back to you if I have more questions."


    "My door is always open," Jerome replied, "Feel free to show up at the station so I can have something interesting to do for a change."


    As much as he liked working with the force, Jerome''s work was mind numbing and too systematic to keep his interest. Edgar knew how he felt.


    "I might do that. Thanks," Edgar said, before strolling back to his original table. Tuck wasn''t there, but he didn''t seem to care as he sat back down and waited for him while looking at the addresses on the card Jerome gave him, a constant reminder that he might have been wrong.


    Edgar remembered what a dick he had been to Jessica, who was only trying to tell him what she had seen. She too didn''t claim to know the answers, she just had seen something that contradicted the story everyone was so quick to believe. Suddenly Edgar didn''t know what to believe anymore. Did Jessica really see her dead mother? He ordered another beer and tried to ignore the idea because despite his newly acquired information, the case still wasn''t feasible to peruse.


    Tuck came back to the desk several minutes later, "Have a good chat with conspiracy boy?"


    "It was educational." Edgar replied, "Disturbing, but educational."


    After he said that, Edgar slammed a fist into the table in frustration.


    Tuck responded to that by tossing a twenty on the table. "Take a cab home tonight, and I''ll meet you at the office tomorrow. Rest this off and show up whenever you want tomorrow. We don''t have any new clients lined up so go home and sleep it off."


    "Alright," Edgar said as he finished off the beer he had in his hand, and then staggered off to get his cab.


    Tuck walked him to the door, and out to the cab. Edgar normally didn''t need a babysitter when he went out, but Jerome seemed to make him want to drink a little more that night. Edgar knew he was tipsy and accepting Tuck''s help was better than putting the company in unwanted trouble again. Tuck knew this as well and made sure Edgar was on his way home before making his own way home. Tuck had some news for his partner, but didn''t feel that his current state was the right time to spring the news. Maybe in the morning when he''s had a few caffeine boosts in his system, Tuck thought, then I''ll drop the bomb on his day and see how he reacts. He giggled at the thought as he watched Edgar''s cab fade into the background lights of the city and then hailed his own to bring his own evening to a conclusion.

 Chapter 5

    Based on how nice it was that morning, it was looking to be a good day. Yet for this old lady, it couldn''t have been darker. She knew she was in trouble, but didn''t know what to do about it. It was only a matter of time before they found out. Stuff like this was nearly impossible to hide from them. She didn''t have to wait very long. As she was doing the dishes, she spotted the black car pulling into her driveway. As the two men in dark suits started to approach her house, the old lady knew this was the moment she had been dreading since the vigil. She had no idea what was going to happen next, and at some point feared for her life. These men walking up to her house were capable of doing anything, and she knew that first hand. She was tired of explaining herself to them, but realized that was what she would have to do if she wanted to stay in their good graces. That was going to be easier said than done as they didn''t look too happy as she opened the door for them.


    "Gentlemen," she said with a warm smile, trying kill them with kindness. "Nice to see you both again; what can I do for you?"


    "Mrs. Johnson." the younger man started, "You know exactly why we''re here. We need to talk about your little field trip."


    "Even if that is so Mr. Smith," she replied with a sharp tone, "There is no need to be so rude and condescending. We can talk this out like adults, can''t we Mr. Carlson?"


    She looked over at the older man who was there, aware that he was the man in charge. Mr. Carlson was therefore the man she should be addressing. Mr. Carlson removed his sunglasses and cracked a small smile.


    "Of course we can." Mr. Carlson replied, "I wouldn''t mind a nice cup of tea while we mull this over."


    "I put on the kettle the minute you pulled up," she said with a smile as she left to the kitchen.


    The two men walked into the house and made themselves at home, sitting down in the living room to wait for Mrs. Johnson to return. When she came back into the room, she handed a tea over to Mr. Carlson and a tall glass of diet soda to Mr. Smith. They had been there to visit her so often that she didn''t need to ask him anymore. After Mr. Smith took a sip of his drink, it was clear he was not going to let up.


    "We need to speak to you about the vigil and about your daughter." He informed her.


    Mrs. Johnson was again surprised by their overwhelming ability to know everything that was going on. "How did you know about Jessica?"


    "Every law enforcement and PI in the city knows about it." Mr. Carlson answered, taking another small sip of his tea, "She''s been trying to find anyone who will listen and help her try to find you."


    Mrs. Johnson couldn''t believe what she was hearing, "She''s hired someone to find me?"


    "No," Mr. Carlson corrected her, "She tried, but was unsuccessful."


    "Early yesterday morning, she cleaned out all her savings." Mr. Smith added, "She took out over seven thousand and then tried to hire anyone who would take the case. Lucky for us, no one believed her or wanted anything to do with what she was telling them."You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "How do you know this?" she asked, trying not to see to worried.


    "She put the money back in the bank." Mr. Carlson replied, "Every penny was re-deposited into her savings account by 3pm that afternoon. We can assume that since she never spent any money that not a single PI agreed to work with her."


    "The people in the city are not very fond of doing any kind of charity work." Smith added in with a grin, "So chances are the private investigators and the police laughed off her crazy story about someone from these flights still being alive."


    "It''s been years and the story is holding up." Carlson said, almost like an artist who was proud of his work. "People are too busy trying to move and don''t want to look back. They don''t want to reopen that old wound and are not willing to listen to her. So we''ve dodged a bullet here."


    "You mean I don''t have to move again?" Mrs. Johnson said with a sense of surprise.


    "That is correct," Carlson confirmed, "Your cover hasn''t been blown. You just have to promise not to attend any more vigils. We realize you were there to pay respects to your son, and I want to make it clear that we understand your desire to be there. He was a good soldier who paid the ultimate price to serve his country. We have a great deal of respect for the sacrifice your family has made for our nation''s security."


    Mrs. Johnson was tearing up a bit but she wiped her eyes quickly. "Thank you. It was foolish to attend, I know that now."


    "We know you didn''t intentionally go there to see your daughter, but you have to be more careful than that." Carlson said, putting his cup down, "When things like this happen, you''re not the only one who gets in trouble. Do you understand?"


    "I do, and I''m very sorry about what happened." Mrs. Johnson really was. Even though she was happy to see her daughter in the flesh, she feared these men and what they are capable of more, and was happy that she was off the hook at least for the time being.


    "This is however our last warning." Smith said as he also finished his drink, "We can''t have anymore exposure like this, accidental or not."


    "I understand." she said, looking down at her tea, "I''ll do my best to make sure that never happens again."


    "We really appreciate that Mrs. Johnson. The reason why we are not punishing you for this incident is because you at least attempted to go through the proper channels." Carlson explained, "You didn''t desert your house contact and actually got her permission to attend the vigil. While she was wrong to approve the move, your respect for our system is why we''re taking this not as harshly as we normally would."


    "Thank you," Mrs. Johnson said, please she wouldn''t have to move everything in the house again.


    Carlson took a deep breath and stood to leave, "And just to be on the safe side. We recommend you stay indoors for at least the next month or two. Get everything you want ordered and delivered through our offices for the next while, and we''ll cover the tab for it."


    "Just don''t break the taxpayer''s backs like Eva did." Smith added with a grin as he walked to the door.


    "Of course, I''m not that eccentric." she said, as they all had a laugh from the comment.


    She knew not to argue, because she knew the drill pretty well by now. Based on how they''ve reacted to some of the other exposures over the last five years, she was actually getting off lightly and couldn''t take that for granted. People had been relocated many times and often imprisoned if they intentionally tried to make contact without their consent. Since her contact was unintentional, she thinks that''s the reason for her leniency.


    Mrs. Johnson watched as the two men walked back to their mysterious clich¨¦ ridden black car and pulled out. She was lucky this time out, but she couldn''t imagine how Jessica must have felt. Trying to seek help and only getting stonewalled at every corner. If only there was someone out there that could help her, because with these men watching over her and people like her, there was no way she would be able to. At least not right now.

 Chapter 6

    When Tuck arrived to the office, he had a pleasant surprise waiting for him. In the main lobby where most of the lower ranked detectives worked, there was a tray of coffees from the shop down the street. Tuck already had one in his hand, but recognized one on the tray that had his name on it. He quickly drained the one he had brought with him and then took the replacement with a surprised grin. Tuck''s next surprise was waiting for him as he kept walking in. Edgar was normally the last person to arrive for work as he wasn''t always the most chipper morning person. Yet there he was in his office with his own coffee, working over his computer and clicking on the mouse as if what he was doing would save his life. Tuck dropped his briefcase by his door and strolled over to the entrance to his partner''s office.


    "You''re up early. Is everything all right?" Tuck asked, not exactly sure what might be the problem.


    "Not really." Edgar said, clicking away at the keyboard. "That talk with Jerome really got to me last night. I''ve spent the better part of three hours googling piles of information about Flight 77. You wouldn''t believe how many sites that are actually dedicated to proving a plane didn''t hit the building!"


    "Holy crap, you''re seriously not considering taking on this case?" Tuck asked, seriously concerned. He didn''t like to watch Edgar get this caught up in a case, especially when all this effort couldn''t lead to any billable hours.


    "I''m not going to take this case!" Edgar yelled out, trying to ease his partner and maybe even convince himself.


    "Thank goodness." Tuck said, as he let out a huge sigh of relief. "But tell me this much: why on earth are you looking up all this data when you''re not going to do anything with it?"


    "I''m disturbed by it," Edgar confessed as he sat back and started to rub his eyes. "I''m the guy who''s paid to smell the bullshit. We''re the ones who are supposed to dig deeper and find out what''s really going on. That''s what we''re supposed to do for a living! We''re the guys other people hire to find the truth if there''s any to be found, and yet the biggest cons of the century occurred years ago and right under our fucking noses! We could have questioned the truth and asked for answers, but no... we all drank willing downed fucking kool-aid like the good little lemmings we are!"


    "That''s what this is about, a bruised ego?" Tuck said, not sure how to respond to his partner''s sudden outrage.


    "No, it''s about how I acted like such an ass." Edgar said as he turned the monitor off, "The answers to her questions were just a few clicks of the mouse away, and I brushed her off like she was on drugs."


    "Just like every other PI in the city did." Tuck responded, "She must have spent the better part of the day talking to everyone. I don''t hear any of them questioning their ability to do their jobs."


    "None of them talked to Jerome Ryan last night," Edgar retorted, "That was one hell of a wake up call. I feel like an ostrich that just took its head out of the sand for the first time in forever. It''s not that I''m completely sold on the issue myself, but this is enough to conclude that this girl''s story might not be as preposterous as I had first written it off as."


    "And as a result you feel a little guilty, that''s understandable." Tuck replied, taking a seat. "That still doesn''t change the fact that she''s not the kind of client we want nor can afford to take on."Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "I know that," Edgar said as he rubbed his eyes, "It still doesn''t change how I feel about what happened."


    "Well, I might happen to have something will make you feel better." Tuck replied with a hint of confidence since he knew his friend well.


    "I''m not sure, but take your best shot." Edgar challenged, as he didn''t seem anything would get him out of this funk.


    "I got a call," Tuck started, "From someone representing Sir Nigel Norsberg."


    "Norsberg?" Edgar repeated, looking back at his partner a hint of modest curiosity, "What the hell does that cripple old fart want?"


    "That crippled old fart has beckoned to have lunch with him tomorrow." Tuck answered, "For whatever reason, Norsberg wants to speak to us about something. The man calling on his behalf said was very important, and was very pushy about seeing us as soon as possible."


    It took a moment for Edgar to really digest this information.


    "Seriously?" Edgar said, "You''re not pulling my leg here?"


    "I am not," Tuck confirmed, "Norsberg wants to do lunch."


    "For lunch, eh?" Edgar said, pondering it. "I always thought we''d never hear from him again, and now he wants to wine and dine us over lunch. That''s surprising, especially how our last case with him ended."


    "Oh yeah," Tuck agreed, sighing just at the thought of it, "That was a royal fuck up if I ever saw one. Yet it seems Sir Norsberg has had a change of heart, so the least we can do is meet him for lunch at Costantini''s."


    "Which happens to be my favorite Italian restaurant," Edgar said, thinking about it even more, "It takes me weeks to get a reservation and that old bastard booked it just like that." Edgar snapped his fingers to emphasize the point.


    "Odd how he picked that place, isn''t it?" Tuck asked.


    "He''s buttering us up," Edgar said, "He actually wants something from us, doesn''t he?"


    "I certainly hope so." Tuck replied, "I miss seeing his account number on my transaction records, and am praying this is for something billable. I can''t emphasize how miraculous it would be to get back in Sir Norsberg''s good graces. A pocket that deep would give us enough breathing room to do some of smaller cases we really wanted to do every now and then."


    Edgar knew what he was talking about, and it was the right string to push with him at that given time "Alright, let''s do it. I''m kind of curious to see what he wants anyway. It''s got to be something huge for him to come back to us after what happened last time."


    Tuck drained the rest of his new coffee, "Let''s not try to relive it. This is a chance to move forward and try to re-establish good relations. This could also be very profitable and good for our business."


    Edgar looked back up at him and nodded in agreement, "I''ll be there and we''ll do our best to get back into the old man''s good books."


    "I appreciate that," Tuck said, standing to leave, "What do you have planned for this morning?"


    "I''m going to stay here and browse a little more." Edgar said, "While I''m at it I might try to figure out what that old man wants from us."


    Edgar slouched back in his chair, and started to go over the new and old stuff that was nagging him that morning. The old man wanted something, and as long as it was something tolerable, it might give his company the finances they need to perhaps pursue something they might not have considered before. Whatever the old man wanted, Edgar wasn''t going to have to wait long to find out. This time tomorrow he would be in a position to find out, and at the same time he''ll get those answers over some of the finest pasta in the city. Until then he had to keep his suspicions and doubts to himself and let Tuck thrive on the hope that this big fish was going to jump back into their boat. Rather than look a gift horse in the mouth, Edgar chose to distract himself by watching some video on the sites that Jerome had given him the night before. As he waited for old man money bags to come to them, it was nice that he had something to distract himself as he spent the rest of his morning peeking deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole Jerome introduced him to the previous night.

 Chapter 7

    The big man sat in his car and chewed on an egg sandwich he had obtained from a local fast food joint on his way over. When you''re doing surveillance, fast food was always the way to go as the grub was quick and always filled the tummy sufficiently to make sure he could stick to the task at hand. He continued to sit there and do nothing, but his patience always paid off because he was compensated very well to sit there and do as he was told. To pass the time, he always had on his favorite radio station, a sports network that did nothing but talk sports 24/7. No loud music to distract him, just voices which never kept him too distracted from the target. At the moment he was watching an apartment building, waiting for his objective to wake up and take off for work. Not the most glamorous job in the world, but he owed someone a favor and he was eager to pay that back.


    About an hour or two into his watch, he got a call on his cell. He turned down the radio and picked up the call, "Gibson here."


    "How goes the watch?" the voice on the other end asked.


    "It goes." he answered, "She hasn''t left for work yet, and she should soon or she''s going to be late. She might have to take a cab again if she takes any longer to get ready."


    "Well make sure you stay on her." the voice commanded, "I want a journal of all her actions and everywhere she goes today. I want to make sure she doesn''t try to do what she did two days ago. If she does, I want a full list of everywhere she goes and everyone she talks to. Understood?"


    "Perfectly." the watcher responded, "How long do you want me to keep an eye on her?"


    "Just watch her while she''s at work. I''ll get someone to relieve you for the night again around five or six this evening." He paused for a moment, "I want to be informed if anything happens."The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "I''m not a rookie." Gibson chided back, "You''ll hear from me if anything happens. But honestly; how long do you want to keep this up? I mean it''s been two days since she talked to any PIs. There''s a good possibility that she may have given up the cause."


    "Let''s just say I want to be absolutely sure."


    "Hey, it''s your money." he quickly responded, "I''ll stay here for weeks, if you want me too. It''ll help put my boys through college."


    "Excellent. I owe you one now." the voice said as the line disconnected. Gibson sat there for another half hour listening to the DJ whine about how crappy the hockey teams are before finally acquiring the target. He watched as Jessica Johnson emerged from the building and hailed a cab, as the watcher had predicted during his call. He slowly pulled out and followed after the cab got a decent head start. It wasn''t like he needed to be close because he knew exactly where the cab was going.


    Just like yesterday, chances are Ms. Johnson was going back to work to make her living and move on with her life. While he was sure of this, the person asking this favor of him wasn''t too sure and wanted to confirm this was the case. As the cab pulled up in front of her place of work like it had the day before, he pulled his car into the usual same spot and stopped for the day. He had magazines, his radio shows, and a lot of drinks in a cooler to keep the whistle wet. He sat there and watched Jessica as she paid the cabbie and entered the building less than five minutes before her shift was to begin. He knew this because he paid off someone to print the schedules of the entire staff for him. Asking for one name would have been too suspicious, so he took them all just to get the one he wanted. Knowing her schedule made it easy for him to keep track of her when she went on breaks and on her lunch. It also made it easier for him to take his own breaks, knowing that she was in the building and doing her thing. It wasn''t easy, but the man on the phone was paying the bills so it was worth the effort. His day had just begun, but he was ready for anything that would come his way.

 Chapter 8

    The atmosphere at Costantini''s was what made it one of the most sought after restaurants in the city. With its quiet and very private setting along with the nice home like atmosphere and fantastic food; it was a place where people could meet to converse without being interrupted and also wanted a little privacy while dining out. Edgar had only been here three times before, one reason was because of the wait list to make reservations, but the price of the food also had something to do with it as well. As he and Tuck walked in, the ma?tre d'' met them before they even had a chance to take off their coats.


    "Sir Norsberg is waiting," he said, snatching their coats from them, "Please follow me."


    The two men followed the ma?tre d'' as he led them past all the usual tables and towards the most expensive and private room in the building. In there sipping on a small glass of dry white wine was Sir Nigel Norsberg. The old man seemed to be in a pleasant mood as he waved and gestured the men join him at the table to join him.


    "It is so nice to see you again," Norsberg said, as the two men sat down. The old man then turned his attention to the ma?tre d'', "Thank you for your hospitality. We''d like a little privacy."


    The ma?tre d'' made a slight bow and then closed the doors on his way out. Edgar wasn''t even aware that the place had private rooms, but Norsberg seemed to be on the A list in order to get it on such short notice.


    "I''m sure you are both very curious to why I have called you here." Norsberg continued, "But I suggest we all eat first then we''ll talk business. I''ve taken the pleasure in ordering for you. I remember what you guys had the last time you where here; I hope you don''t mind."


    "Of course not," Tuck said, tossing a napkin on his lap. "I''m flattered that you remember what we ordered."


    "It was hard not to forget," Norsberg replied, "Mr. Willis ordered the most expensive items on the menu."


    A few moments later, they were served their amazing entrees. It smelled great and tasted even better, but several bites into their delectable pastas Edgar couldn''t help himself.


    "I''m sorry Norsberg," Edgar started, "but curiosity is getting the best of me. I was under the impression that we would never hear from you again and yet here we are eating a great meal, your treat of course."


    "Of course," Sir Norsberg agreed with a grin, "I knew this would be a good peace offering so that I can hire you to do a job for me. I thought this setting might also be necessary since I''m under the impression this particular job might require a little arm twisting to get you on board."


    "You see," Edgar said as he was munching on a piece of magnificent Brushetta bread, "He''s here to smooch us up for something big. What happened to make you want to seek us out?"


    "I can''t help but agree with Edgar." Tuck said, sipping his wine, "Don''t get me wrong, I like the fact that we''re talking again. I also appreciate the second chance and hope that this case will prove to you that the last time was a fluke."


    "Glad to hear it boys," Sir Norsberg said, draining what was left of his glass. "That was exactly the kind of attitude I was hoping to get from the both of you. Especially since I thought you were going to reject my proposal regardless of how much money I offered."


    "What made you think we might reject your offer?" Tuck asked, his curiosity also getting the best of him.


    "Well, you were less than receptive when Ms. Johnson brought it to your attention a few days ago." Norsberg said, sitting back and waiting for the light bulbs turn on above their heads.


    It was now Edgar''s turn to polish off his glass, which he did despite it being nearly full. He paused for a moment and then asked, "How do you know Jessica Johnson?"


    "Oh, I don''t know her," Norsberg confessed, "Only of her. I got to watch a very fascinating video tape from the police station that was delivered to me by one of my numerous sources there. The tape caught poor Ms. Johnson making a rather heartfelt plea to the local authorities. I was also told by my source that she also approached several private investigators, but found no takers. Since one of the offices she happened to pitch was old acquaintance of mine, you seemed like the perfect people to approach regarding this matter. I know you two had the honor of meeting her, so I would like to know why you turned her down."


    Tuck tried to seem diplomatic said, "Well, you see we were just..."


    "Shut up, Tuck." Edgar interrupted. "You know we turned it down because there was no money to be made. As interesting as the case might be, we can''t do the kind of work she was asking for without serious financial backing, which was something that Ms. Johnson seriously lacked."


    "I appreciate your honest, Edgar." the old man concurred, "Financial backing, however, is not something I lack."


    Tuck covered his mouth in shock to prevent him from spitting out his food, "You want to finance her case?" he couldn''t believe the words were coming from his mouth.


    "Sorry for taking a gift horse in the mouth," Edger said, as he wasn''t sure what was going on. "But why do you want to be the founder of this needle in a haystack hunt? As much as want to take your money, and believe me I want to take it by the truck load, I''m not comfortable getting involved in anything unless I know what your motives are. You know that."


    "Yes, I do." Norsberg responded, fully aware of how the two men worked. He opened an attach¨¦ in the chair beside him and took out a piece of paper, "It took a lot of arm twisting to get this, but to be honest it''s been in my possession for years. I give this to you as a sign of my true motives."


    "What is it?" Tuck said as Edgar spanned over the list.


    "It''s a manifest." Norsberg responded rather quickly.


    "Not just any manifest." Edgar said as he looked up with utter disbelief, "This is the manifest for Flight 77."


    "Yes, it is." Norberg added, "And that is not the same as the cookie cutter copy that was given to the media outlets. This one came straight from the top and has never been touched by a permanent marker. I don''t think I need to tell you how much I had to spend to get a copy of it."


    The old man sat there, waiting for Edgar to find something in the list, something that would tell the investigator why he was interested in this matter. When Edgar found it moments later, he tried to be as professional as possible and hide the shock that came with this discovery.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "What''s the relation?" he asked, pointing to a name on the list.


    "Relation? Who''s on the list?" Tuck asked, swiping the piece paper away from Edgar. It took Tuck a few moments to find it, but there it was right in the middle of the manifest. It was the kind of name that was almost impossible to miss: Helene Norsberg.


    "Helene was my only child," the old man replied, "She was going to California to visit her half-brother, a sibling from her mother''s second marriage." Sir Norsberg paused as this was a difficult story to tell, "I offered to let her use the private plane, but she refused to be pampered. She wouldn''t even let me buy her ticket because she was afraid I would book first class. The last thing she ever told me was to take my vast wealth and to shove it up my posterior."


    "I like her already," Edgar said, impressed by the nerve it would take someone to say that to someone like Norsberg.


    "So she was on flight 77," Tuck said, putting the manifest down on the table, "Just like Mrs. Johnson?"


    "She was," Norsberg confirmed, "When the incident occurred, her mother never forgave me. I haven''t been able forgive myself, and for this reason you''re going to dig into that haystack and keep digging until I''m fully satisfied that everything has been done to find the truth."


    "I get it, Norsberg." Edgar said, "But what exactly are you asking us to do for you?"


    "In order to look for my daughter," Norsberg started, "You need personal information that I am not able to provide and no one for the ex-wife''s side of the family is going to give you that information without asking why. The best way to get anyone to open up and co-operate with any kind of investigation would be to find proof that this isn''t some wild goose chase"


    "I get it," Tuck said, "If we can locate and prove that Ms. Johnson''s mother is still alive, it''s proof that your daughter might be alive too."


    "Precisely," Norsberg agreed, "With that, we could convince my former wife and her family that Helene could still be alive as well. Only then would they be willing to help us locate her. If she was going to make any contact at all, it will be through them. We''re not on good terms before the crash so you can only imagine how relations are now."


    "I think I can see where you''re going with this," Edgar said as he took another look at the list, "You don''t want to put your own family through this kind of hell only for it to turn out to be a hoax. You''d rather let someone else go first before dragging your own people into this mess."


    "I''m sure Ms. Johnson wouldn''t have a problem with that. She''s begging for help and I''m willing to give it to her, through you two of course." Norsberg took out a blank piece of paper and a pen, "I don''t want her to know I am involved. As far as she, the police and especially the government are concerned, you''ve both had a change of heart and decided to help the poor girl for free. Is that Understood?"


    The two men nodded in full agreement as Norsberg passed the paper and pen to Edgar.


    "Outstanding." Norsberg said, "Now all I need is a number. How much will it take to get your full co-operation, and don''t half ass it. I only want to make one investment. I don''t want you two coming back weeks later saying you''re out of funds. And if anyone manages to find out where you got it this money, tell them it''s for private services rendered over the last two years for the usual fronts in question."


    "Alright then," Edgar said as he put down his fork. He picked up then pen and wrote something down on the small sliver of paper and passed it over to the old man.


    Norsberg took a look at the number and smiled back. Edgar expected a counter proposal, and thought he was getting one as Norsberg wrote down a new number on the same piece of paper and passed it over to Mr. Tucker. Tuck took the edited number and handed it back to Edgar.


    "Is this going to be all right?" Tuck asked.


    "It will do," Edgar answered, "Considering that it''s double of the amount that I originally asked for."


    Norsberg, very full of himself at that moment, smiled back at the two gentlemen. "When it''s all said and done, that''s merely a drop in the bucket. What I''m buying is hope, and that doesn''t come by very often. I wanted to make it perfectly clear to you both how serious I am concerning this matter. As of right now, you don''t have a bigger case. I would like this to be your highest priority, but don''t make it look like it. Hire more people from the outside and keep everyone in your office working on normal cases. Give anyone who might start watching you the impression that only minimal expenses are being put into this case. The money will be wired to your account, via Dryden Supplies as usual. You know the drill if anyone comes around asking tough questions."


    "We''re alright with that and know the drill." Edgar said as he kept looking at the manifest, "Do we get to keep this?"


    "Yes, that one is only a facsimile." Norsberg answered, "I have the original at my home."


    "Okay," Edgar said, "Thank you."


    Norsberg put down what he was eating and seemed more serious than before, "From here on out, I want you two to have minimal contact with me after this meeting. I will be sending my people to you for updates whenever needed. I may call on occasion, but not that often. If you require any arm twisting beyond your own powers, I can be of help as long as the request is reasonable and will raise little suspicion. Are we clear on this?"


    "Crystal." Edgar said, "But I have a few conditions of my own."


    "I''m listening," Norsberg replied, awaiting his terms.


    "I''m in charge." Edgar started. "I''m the one looking into things and we''re the ones who are going to be on the front line. This means when it comes crunch time, I make the major decisions that affect the case and our business."


    "That seems fair," Norsberg said, despite the fact it wasn''t an easy concession for him to make. "Anything else, Mr. Willis?"


    Edgar paused for a moment, "Any money that is left over when this is all done is considered a bonus for a job well done."


    "Agreed," Norsberg said, smiling at them. "It sounds like we have an agreement, gentlemen."


    "We do." Tuck said as he extended a hand to the old man, and they shook on it. They went back to eating their meal and a few moments later, Norsberg excused himself and was gone. The two men sat there and went over what had just happened.


    "What do you think of this Edgar?" Tuck asked his partner.


    "It''s risky." Edgar said, as he polished off his pasta, "We are going to be the ones asking the questions no one wants us to be asked. Don''t be surprised if official or unofficial government people get in our faces and start to apply pressure to make us walk away. Are you ready for that kind of case?"


    "Do you want to tell Norsberg to stick it?" Tuck said waving the piece of paper with the obscenely large number on it around.


    "Not really," Edgar said, as he took the piece of paper back from Tuck and gazed at it again with admiration. "I like zeros, especially when they come before the decimal point."


    "I do too," Tuck admitted, taking a peek at the number again.


    Edgar took out his cell phone, dialed a number and passed the piece of paper with the number on it as he waited for someone to pick up. "Devon? Hey there, it''s Edgar. No, I''m not calling to talk to you about that. Seriously, I''ve got a job that requires a man of your specific expertise. There''s no bond, and the offer is cash upfront and a fat bonus if the person in question is found and recovered. I thought you''d like the sound of that. No, I want the entire team. I''m dead serious. Meet us at the office in five hours. See you there."


    "Devon Brown?" Tucker said, shocked beyond belief. "I thought you two hated each other."


    "We do," Edgar confirmed, "But he''s just like us; Uncle Ben rules."


    As they both stood up to leave, Edgar took out that twenty that Tuck gave him the night before and laid it on the table, to add to the considerable tip that Norsberg had left already. He looked back to his partner who seemed to still be in awe of what just transpired.


    "I''m going to the station to recruit someone else for this job." Edgar told his partner. "Go over to our bank and wait for the money to transfer from Norsberg, which I''m sure he''ll do it immediately just to get our asses into gear."


    "What do you want me to do once it arrives?" Tuck asked. He had some ideas but want to inquire to see if Edgar was already on the same page.


    "Take half of it and transfer it to our secret account in the Caribbean." Edgar replied, "Then I''d like you to take out another quarter and stash the cash with a few of our dummy companies. This way someone won''t be able to freeze all our funds in one fowl swoop of the keyboard. I''ll meet you at the office in a few hours."


    Tuck nodded in agreement and the two men left the private room on their way to get things started.

 Chapter 9

    Sitting in a little piece of crap dark room was not the way to live, at least according to Jerome Ryan. He was in his miniature little room, watching countless hours of security tapes for vice. People are not meant to be caged up like this, he thought to himself. It was almost as if he was being punished by someone higher up on the food chain, likely for asking too many questions about who knows whatever it was this time. Someone had to sit there and watch hundreds of security tapes looking for man who may or may not appear on them. It sucked, but it was his job for now. He''d rather be in the crime lab, analyzing voice recordings or working on a blurred video to help identify a crook for the good guys, but here he was doing the ultimate grunt work that produced little if any results. It''s such a shame he was at atheist, because if he had any religion in his soul at all, he would pray for his deity to strike him down to put him out of his misery. That was not possible so he freshened up with a new piece of bubble gum and continued to plow through, convinced that he would never get out. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Jerome hated to be interrupted but was afraid to be rude in case it was his supervisor coming back to give him another work hard for the team lecture.


    "Who is it?" he called out with a little fear in his voice.


    "Special delivery for conspiracy boy." the voice outside the room replied.


    Jerome was confused since he never ordered anything, especially because he couldn''t afford to right now. He also thought the voice sound familiar and walked over to open the door. When he did, he was surprised to see Edgar Willis standing there with what happened to be lunch with him. Jerome left the door open and returned to his desk.


    "Two meetings in the same week," Jerome commented, "The guys here at the station might get the wrong impression."


    "Yeah, they might think I actually value your opinion." Edgar said with thick sarcasm as he laid the food down on his desk.


    "More garlic bread?" Jerome said with a wiseass grin.


    "Actually, it''s an exquisite pasta, freshly made at Costantini''s," Edgar replied somewhat curious if Jerome had ever been there in his life. "But if you don''t want it I''m sure there''s someone out there who."


    "No!" Jerome called out, swiping the food and protecting it from Edgar as if it were his first born. He had been living on Mac & Cheese, Mr. Noodle and hot dogs for the last few weeks so this was like a slice of heaven in a Styrofoam box. Jerome stared to quickly eat the succulent pasta when he turned back to Edgar who was now watching from a chair.


    "I almost forgot you where there." He confessed between bite, "Do you want more information on what we were talking about earlier? After we talked I was so stroked about what was said that I did more snooping around and got a ton of great stuff for you."


    "That''s great, but I want more than information. I''m here to offer you a job and pull you away from all of... this." He made a motion to the small dark room he was in. "I need someone who is an expert in the field we were talking about. It wouldn''t also hurt to have someone with your technical and forensic background on my payroll as well."


    Edgar sat back and waited for Jerome to respond. He knew the young man was on probation and basically banished from the work he really loved, thus already on the edge and ready to walk out and go private.


    "You want me to work for you?" Jerome repeated, as the thought of working for Edgar didn''t seem so bad, "How much would I be making? I didn''t think you guys had the payroll to expand anymore."


    "Tuck and I hit pay dirt, scoring a massive payday." Edgar said, somewhat stretching the truth as far as he would like. "We''re actually going to do a lot of hiring in the next few days. Because of our recent financial gains, I''m able to offer you a very hefty pay percent raise and work that won''t be anywhere near this boring."


    Edgar was hoping that would be enough to sway the young man to join the team, but he couldn''t read what Jerome was thinking.


    "And the work is better how?"" Jerome said someone hesitant to leave a secure job.


    "I''ll give you one really good reason why it''s better," Edgar said, knowing what it would take to reel in this fish. "One of the cases I will be taking on is the matter we were discussing at the bar."The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Jerome''s face lit up with excitement as he couldn''t believe the words that hew as hearing from Willis.


    "You''re actually going to take that case about Flight 77?" he squealed, "Do you have any idea what kind of case this is? The people pulling the strings up above are not going to like it."


    "Should I be scared of these people?" Edgar said, trying to seem calm over something that was worth worrying about.


    "I''m just saying we don''t know who conducted this fraud on the people," Jerome explained, "But if turns out to be the government, it will be hard to pin it to them. They''ll also fight back with everything they got. Are you ready for that kind of fight?"


    "That might be true, but for all we know this might be one massive goose chase with no boogey man to be found." Edgar replied, "Our job is to prove it which ever way it happens to go. Tuck and I are also bringing in some extra workers to help with any opposition that might come our way. So the question remains the same: are you in or are you out?"


    Jerome needed only a few seconds, "When did you want me to start?"


    "Right now," Edgar answered, "Take this job and tell your boss to stick it. I realize this is short notice but we''ve got to get started as soon as possible."


    Jerome took a look at his screen and paused for a moment. He wolfed down the last of his pasta and started to pack his bag. "Meet me outside. I don''t want anyone to know we talked before I walked out."


    Edgar didn''t say a thing and slipped out of the room.


    Jerome was slow to pack up his stuff. When he finished packing up his stuff, Jerome turned off the computers and screens he was working on and grabbed his coat. He peaked his head outside the door to make sure Edgar was long gone and then slowly stepped out and started to walk down the hall. About twenty meters later he was near the lab he loved to work in and across the hall from the office occupied by his boss. As he walked up to the door, he softly knocked on it before speaking.


    "Excuse me Sir," Jerome softly called out, "I need a moment to speak to you about..."


    "What the hell are you doing here?" his boss roared at him, "You should be watching tapes and doing your god damned job!"


    The man looked more annoyed than usual, but this was just what Jerome needed at this time. Jerome just stood there, pleased that the old man had given him all the excuse he needed.


    "What the hell is your problem?" the boss asked.


    "You are!" Jerome snapped back as he tossed his credentials and pass cards onto the desk. "You and this dump are wasting my time and talent on jobs that are far below my skills! I''m tired of putting up with it and more than that, I don''t have to. I friggin'' quit!"


    His boss could have been blown over with a feather as he watched Jerome walk out the door. Jerome didn''t wait for anyone to come after him as he quickly exited the building and started to look around for Edgar. He couldn''t spot him, but then he heard a horn beep from twenty feet behind him. He darted over and quickly got into the passenger side. Edgar paused for a moment before speaking.


    "Are you sure you don''t want to wait and see if someone comes out after you?" Edgar asked, trying to be nice.


    "Forget it," Jerome responded without hesitation, "Let''s roll."


    Edgar pulled the car out and started to drive off towards their next destination. He turned to face his new co-worker. "Is there anything specific we need to get this off on the right foot?"


    "That depends, what kind of budget are we working on here?" Jerome asked trying to pry for answers, "We probably could use some new computers and possibly some forensic equipment."


    "I''ll get Tuck to look into it for you. I over see the grunt work, but he handles the money." Edgar turned at the second light and kept driving with little regard for anyone else on the road. He was a bit of an aggressive driver, a habit he picked up while on the force.


    "Where exactly are we going?" Jerome quickly asked, "I thought the office was the other way."


    "It is," Edgar confirmed, "But we need to visit someone before we head back. I thought it would be wise to bring you along for this."


    "Who are we going to meet?" Jerome asked.


    "The client," Edgar replied, "We''re going to inform her that I''ve had a change of heart, and that we''ll be taking her case."


    "Is this the case I think this is?" Jerome then asked, excitedly.


    "It is," Edgar again confirmed, "So please keep quiet until I ask you to speak up, okay?"


    "Alright," Jerome said, obviously aware of what might be going on. It was obvious Edgar had turned the person down, so that might make this a very difficult discussion. Jerome wondered if that change came after they had their talk. He figured he would soon find out because he was sure the client would ask the same question. He was along for the ride anyway and was sure as long as he paid attention, he would get all the answers he needed. For now Edgar was in charge and leading the way, at least for now. He tossed all his stuff in the back seat and decided to let Edgar have his way. There was no need to say anything too soon because he liked where this was heading. Finally someone was going to pay him to look into the crooked stuff that he wanted to dig deeper into for a long, long time. He would be a fool to question that gift, as it was just what he needed to get away from the hell he was in and finally do some real work.

 Chapter 10

    It wasn''t the best place to make a living, but it was as honest living and it was better than doing real work like digging ditches or securing a beach head. Jessica didn''t like working at the call center, but taking angry calls from people who couldn''t get a particular service to work wasn''t all bad. She didn''t have to run around or do physical labor, and the pay was good but it was barely enough to make up for the mental stress that came with the job. Still, she was there an average of eight to twelve hours a day, working her ass off to make the rent and pay the bills. There were some days she just hated coming in and could feel the life sucking out of her every time she walked through the doors. Yet there she was taking calls and working away to just make it to the end of the day.


    Some days were easier when the people calling in were calm and understood that no system is perfect and accidents are going to happen. They gladly take their credit and wait patiently for all systems to come back up. Then you have the assholes who call in and expect everything to be perfect all the time. These are the morons who run their business on these services despite the fact that they all signed a user agreement agreeing not to do that. She never liked talking to these people, the kind the would ask for a month of credit cause they were down for two days. Just shut the hell up and take your $5 credit like everyone else. It was people like that who made the day tougher to take and almost impossible to bear. This particular day was pretty much more or less the same, until someone walked up to her cramped cubicle to speak with her. At first she was afraid she was going to get in trouble for who knows what. Usually if they wanted to tear you a new one, the system is set up to always provide them with an excuse to do so. Jessica looked up as the supervisor arrived to her desk,


    "Is there something I can do?" she asked, trying her best to be polite.


    The supervisor leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Usually we don''t allow this, but your father is in the lobby. He needs to see you immediately. He says that it''s urgent."


    After talking to ignorant pricks all day, she really didn''t feel like talking to one in person. Jessica was very hesitant to speak to him today of all days.


    "He said it was important?" she repeated.


    "He was quite pushy about it," the supervisor confirmed, "He said it had something to do with your mother."


    Jessica was floored by that comment. Her Dad was there to tell her something about her mother? Had he come around since the last time she talked to him? She logged out of her phone and followed the supervisor off the floor and towards the reception area where her visitor was waiting. Jessica hurried out but was a tad surprised by her reception, because the man waiting out there for her wasn''t her father. Instead it was Edgar Willis along with a young man she had never met before. She was a little surprised and at the same time a little disappointed her real Dad hadn''t come around or wanted to help her.


    "What seems to be the problem, Dad?" she asked Edgar.


    Edgar walked up and seemed to play the role well, "I''m sorry to bother you at work pumpkin, but I needed to speak to you about your mother. I did a lot of thinking about what you said the last time we talked. I''m sorry for the way I treated you and came here today to let you know that I''ve had a chance of heart since we last spoke. We''d like to help you out."


    She couldn''t believe what she was hearing. "I thought you said it was an expensive case? That I have money to fund this kind of manhunt."This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    It was a real dig, as Jessica deliberately used the exact same works to stick it back to Edgar. He realized what she was saying and tried to do a little damage control.


    "That is still as true today as the first time I said it," Edgar confessed, "But that''s not going to be necessary."


    "It''s not?" Jessica said, rather confused by the statement.


    "It''s not," Edgar repeated, "Our firm came into some good times, so I have the ability to take on cases I normally wouldn''t. I came here to tell you that I want to do take this case because I want to, not for the money."


    "What changed it for you?" She asked, hesitant to believe him.


    "I''ll tell you what happened." Jerome said as he finally stepped in, realizing that Edgar needed a little saving. "He finally woke up and started to smell the man''s bullshit. He''s not buying the official story anymore and wants to find what everyone wants."


    "And what would that be?" Jessica asked, somewhat curious.


    "How about the truth," Jerome answered, smiling. "There are many people out there who believe what I do. That Flight 77 isn''t as cut and dry as the government wants us to believe. The official story is full of holes, and on the surface looks to be a complete hoax. Your story actually proves that and this big lug wants to look into it further, because he wants to know what really happened. That''s why I''m here too. I want the truth too. I want it badly."


    Jessica seemed a little taken back by his passion for the subject, "Okay."


    "Excuse my friend here," Edgar said, coming back in. "He''s very passionate about the subject you brought up the last time we spoke."


    "I can tell," Jessica replied, a little surprised, "What are you doing here then? Just to announce that you''re taking the case? Because if that''s all you''re here to say, then I really need to get back to work."


    "Not exactly," Edgar answered, "If you want to find your mother, we''re going to need your help doing that. That means you can''t make any unexpected trips to the police and no more talking to people about what you saw. From here on I''m the one asking the questions and knocking on doors. Understood?"


    Jessica gave him a quiet nod and he kept going, "Alright, what else?"


    "We also need you to report any suspicious activity as well," Edgar continued, "If someone is following you to work or home, or if you think someone has broken into your home, you need to contact us immediately. If we start asking questions that people don''t want asked, some of this is bound to happen. So with that being said, are you absolutely sure this is something you want to do?"


    Jessica was beginning to realize what kind of courage was needed to look into this mystery and did appreciate that Edgar was making sure she was fully aware and informed of what she was herself into before they started, "I''m sure. I want to find out what really happened to my mother."


    Edgar appreciated the fact she was on board and patted her shoulder, "Alright, when you finish up here doing whatever you do here, I need you to come down to the office so we can go over some ideas on how we can track down your mother."


    "What kind of ideas?" she asked.


    "We''ll need some information," Edgar continued, "Mostly private information because that is how we track people down. We do it by their personality since their names and location probably changes often. Are you alright with this?"


    "I am." Jessica confirmed, "I''ll see you guys at the office when I''m finished here. Thanks for stopping by, Dad."


    She gave him a half assed hug for the people watching and then turned away and went back through the door to the call center floor. She liked talking to the guys, but didn''t want to stay out there too long because her supervisors might lecture her about having visitors over and what not. She went back to her cubicle and started to take more calls and take care of each account. The rest of her day actually managed to not only go by a little quicker but was easier to handle. She had a better attitude going back to the floor and more important than that, she has something else to hang on that made everything better: hope.

 Chapter 11

    Tuck was in the office, working on the other cases they were investigating before Sir Norsberg had returned to their ledger. If they were to any one the impression that they were not working on this case and remain as undercover as possible, they had to make sure all the other work was being taken care of. That meant no slacking off and zero signs of anything less than business as usual or people watching would get suspicious too soon. Tuck had especially enjoyed watching Sir Norsberg''s money transfer into the account that afternoon. It took only a little over an hour for the funds to electronically arrive in their account from the old man''s usual channels. They had never really officially worked for him, always taking money from a shell company to give the old far the benefit of anonymity. The funds came through an overseas channel so it would take a lot of digging for Norsberg''s name to ever come up. Tuck had never seen that kind of money in his life, and doubted he would ever see a receipt with that many zeroes on it ever again. The money was safely put into the other accounts and as Edgar has instructed and he took about twenty percent out of the account in cash/bonds and tossed in into their private box that isn''t even listed under either of their names. It''s a secret stash only he and Edgar knew about just in case their funds ever get frozen. It was Edgar''s way of having a backup should someone attempt to cut off their cash flow halfway through the investigation.


    As Tuck was ruffling through some papers and receipts from other cases, someone came knocking on Tuck''s door. It was Jonathan, his cousin and co-worker, "Tuck, we have someone here I think you need to deal with personally."


    "Oh?" Tuck said as he stood up. Through the glass that separated his office from the lobby, he could see why Jonathan wanted him to come out. A tall man looking less than formal had strolled into the lobby. He was dressed like a biker and had a scruffy beard and a long pony tail, and was pretty much intimidating the shit out of everyone.


    "Oh my." Tuck said as he took a deep breathe and then walked out to greet his guest. "Devon!"


    "Hey Tuck," Devon called back.


    "You''re a few hours early." Tuck added, "Where''s the rest of your team?"


    Devon didn''t seem impressed or enthusiastic. "They''re downstairs and not willing to come up yet. They don''t believe Edgar and think he''s pulling our leg. They''re on a ''believe it when I see'' it kind of position right now. They want to see the green, and then we can talk about the case."


    "Given what happened last time, I can''t say I blame you." Tuck said with a slightly nervous tone, "That was an unfortunate accident, but we didn''t do that on purpose and we did pay you eventually when our matter with the bank was settled. I apologize for being late, but we had every intention of paying you. We were more than impressed with your work and believe every penny was well earned. I''m in charge of the finances, so the minute you and Edgar see eye to eye on price I''ll have the money wired immediately. You can even sit here and wait for it to be verified if you like."


    Upon hearing that, especially the part about being paid today, Devon''s demeanor started to finally lighten up. "You know, it''s easy to see that this place is run by people who used to be cops. Just take a look around, this place looks like the station downtown. I bet that office in the corner is yours, so you get to act like the chief." he gave a small snicker and then took a seat at one of the vacant desks. "You guys seem very serious about this job. Is it that important of a case?"


    "It is." Tuck confirmed.


    "It must me if you need my help," Devon added.


    "I''m not going to sugar coat it, this is going to be a dandy." Tuck continued, "This is why Edgar felt it was necessary to bring you back in. I''m not sure how much Edgar said over the phone, but there''s no bond. We''re looking for a person who has been missing for five years."


    "A missing person case? Fuck me." Devon said as he sat back, "I knew this sounded too good to be true. You want me scouring the country for a person who has no criminal history?"


    "We''ll make it worth your time. Cash now and more after the person we''re looking for is found. We''ll even cover expenses." Tuck knew that one would hit the mark with Devon. The tough guy seemed to settle down a little more. "We''ll let Edgar give you all the details and then you guys can negotiate a number that will make everyone happy. Even though this isn''t going to be an easy case, we all want you and your team here because we know you guys are the best. And if this job is done promptly, it will be a big payday for everyone. This client is known for tipping, big time."


    Devon, a fellow admirer of Uncle Ben, cracked a large yellow smile, "Now you''re playing my tune, mate. Let''s wait for Edgar and then we''ll see how things go from there." He said as he put his feet up on one of the desks in the lobby.


    "This isn''t your home," Edgar said as he walked in and lightly slapped Devon''s foot off the desk. He paused for a moment and then offered an open hand, "Good to see you again."


    "Is it?" Devon asked.


    "It is," Edgar said as shook the man''s hand, "Let''s take this into Tuck''s office and we''ll crunch some numbers."


    "My, my... you are very direct with this one. No chit chat or foreplay, just getting down to the nitty gritty. This really is an important case." Devon chuckled as he walked into the office and took one of the chairs in front of Tuck''s desk.


    Tuck took his usual spot behind his desk, and waited for Edgar as he closed the door behind him and took a seat on the sofa in the corner of the room. He looked over at Devon, "Like I said before Edgar arrived, we''re offering cash now, and I''ll have it wired to your account. There''s also a bonus if the subject in question is found, preferably alive."


    "That sounds nice," Devon replied, "So what is the exact dollar amount? My normal fee for a bounty is around ten grand, minimum."Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    "Add an extra zero to that first number." Edgar said without twitching. "And we''ll also cover expenses."


    "So you''re saying the fee is a hundred grand upfront and then another fifty after the person is found?" Devon said with a slight quiver to his voice, hardly believing what he was hearing.


    "If you agree, I''ll have a hundred large wired within the hour." Tuck said backing up his partner, "You''ll have the money before you or any of your team lift a finger."


    Devon likes money as much as anyone else, and this was a shit load of it, but he needed to ask the questions. "Who are we looking for?"


    "You''ll be looking for someone who has already been declared dead." Tuck quickly repeated.


    Before Devon could ask the obvious question Edgar took over from there. "Our client spotted this dead person at a vigil earlier this week. She''s convinced the person, her mother, is still alive. Our job is to find her and arrange a reunion for our client."


    "This seems like basic grunt work, so why do you need my team?" Devon said, as he had a bad feeling that Edgar was hiding something. "Our expertise is in dangerous bounties. We''re made to take on the tough cases, and missing mommies are not exactly our specialty."


    "We fear opposition to her recovery." Tuck said trying to sound like he believed it himself, "There is a good chance someone doesn''t want this person to be found and we might need some muscle to break through potential road blocks."


    "What kind of opposition?" Devon asked.


    "The kind that might shoot at us." Edgar quickly responded, "This is why we want you and your team involved in this. We think your methods would be best so that we can snatch the person in question without alerting those watching her until it''s too late."


    "This is a very strange case." Devon confirmed as he stroked his long beard and thought it over.


    "That''s why the payoff is so big." Tuck quickly recovered, again pounding Devon over the head with Uncle Ben. It was a successful tactic.


    Devon stood up, "I have to talk this over with my team. I''m going to recommend we take the job but as always we put it up to a vote. I appreciate you being honest with me and letting me know how risky this one is. How soon do you need an answer?"


    "What time is it now?" Edgar asked sarcastically.


    "Yesterday." Tuck answered, "We are going to begin immediately. There are people in the office already working on it."


    "Alright, we''ll get back to you in short time." Devon opened the door and strolled out with his usual, I can kick your ass any time I want, macho swagger all the way to the elevator.


    As they watched the big man disappear into the elevator, Tuck turned to Edgar, "Do you really think it''s necessary to hire this guy and his team?"


    "I hope not." Edgar said with a sigh, "But if this case turns out to be something besides a goose hunt, we might need the back up. Especially if any of conspiracy boy''s theories turns out to be true."


    "Speaking of him, what''s he doing in the lobby?" Tuck asked suddenly noticing Jerome was out there.


    "I managed to pry him away from the force." Edgar said, with a smile.


    "Oh did we?" Tuck said, surprised by the acquisition. "Shouldn''t I get a chance to approve new hires?"


    "Norsberg told us to expand our staff," Edgar reminded him, "And Conspiracy Boy is going to our little expert in many fields, especially when it comes to all things conspiracy theories. And after this case is done, we can use the old man''s money to keep him here to do a lot of technical grunt work for future cases. The guy has a wealth of forensic and data collection expertise."


    "That''s a good point too," Tuck said somewhat impressed with his partner''s recruiting abilities, "He''ll be a valuable asset to the business and I can only imagine how much fun he''ll be to work with on this case. I''m sure that''s the one thing that tore him away from the force."


    "That is true," Edgar confirmed, "And the fact that he was being grossly underused by his superiors at the station."


    "So, when do we start?" Tuck asked, not really sure himself.


    "In about an hour or so." Edgar said as he consulted his watch, "When Ms. Johnson comes in to give us all the information we need to start this hunt, then the real fun will begin. We''re going to use the conference room to go over everything."


    "You know, it''s still not too late." Tuck said, somewhat hesitant, "We can still give back Norsberg his money and walk away." He slipped the receipt of the transfer over to Edgar just to show him the money was in.


    He didn''t look at the receipt and tossed it aside, "Fraid not, we''re already underway. I already told Jessica that I had a change of heart and would be taking the case out of the goodness of our hearts. To turn back now would devastate her and make us look like the more insensitive than we already were."


    "Alright, but I have a suggestion." Tuck said as he pulled out the newspaper with a few parts of the classified ads circled, "I need you to have a look at these and tell me what you think."


    Edgar looked at them and then back at Tuck, "You''re thinking of moving the business?"


    "No." Tuck said with a grin, "Just the base of operations for this case. If we do it here, you might as well just paint a bull''s eye in the middle of the lobby. If there really is this massive conspiracy as Jerome said, then to have a separate HQ for it elsewhere would be best. Because if they watch or try to bug this place... all they''ll be looking and listening to is business as usual."


    "So you''re suggesting we use the old man''s money to make a secret hideout specifically for this case?" Edgar thought about as he repeated it out loud. He''d never thought of it but Tuck was right. If they were going to run a case like this, it would be best to work away from the office. He thought about it again for a moment, "How about next door. I know they have some space available. That way we can walk in through the front door here and the sneak through the back to the other building where no one is looking. That way it looks like I''m still showing up for work and none will be the wiser."


    Tuck thought it over for a moment, "I thought about it but I''d rather have a little distance. The new place needs a cover, not just something that we can sneak into next door."


    "Alright, let me have a look." he took the paper and had a look at the places he had circled, "Right here, there''s a restaurant underneath it. I''m not the biggest fan of that kind of cuisine but I''ll develop a taste for it. That will make for a good cover."


    Tuck took a look at it, "That''s perfect."


    Edgar passed the paper back, "Call their agency tomorrow but rent it out of one of our dummy corporations so the paper work doesn''t lead back to us. We''ll pay the rent in cash and I''ll have Jerome run that office whenever I''m not there. This sounds better the more I think about it. Let''s get this thing started. I''m going to prepare Jerome for his interview of Jessica when she gets back here."


    Tuck watched as Edgar left his office and then led Jerome to his own. He pulled out a small bottle of whiskey from his desk and didn''t bother with a glass as he just took a swig straight from the bottle. He was a tad nervous about the job at hand, but had to put his faith in Edgar and that the man knew what he was getting into. He took another swig from the bottle before putting it away and starting to do some online searches for some numbers for possible replacements in case Devon turned them down.

 Chapter 12

    Jessica got off from work around seven that night, and was so happy to see how dedicated Edgar and his new friend were to find her mother that she skipped dinner and went straight to Edgar''s office. To show her appreciation, she stopped at a shop a block away from the building and picked two extra-large slabs of pizza for not only them but for her as well because she had barely eaten a thing since talking to Edgar earlier that day. She had a hard time getting through her lunch as she was half excited and half nervous about what they were going to do. As she strolled into the building the weather was only half raining and muggy. She also noticed there was a large RV in front of the building with a few people dressed like bikers hanging out front, having a smoke and talking about something. She walked by them quickly and into the building. Once on the third floor, she strolled in and looked around for Edgar. She didn''t see him immediately, so she walked up to a desk and asked someone if he was in. Before the young man could answer, Tuck walked into the lobby to greet her.


    "Ms. Johnson, it''s nice to see you again." He said to her. "We didn''t meet last time. I''m Allen Tucker, Edgar and I run this firm."


    "Nice to meet you, Mr. Tucker." Jessica said as she held up the pizza, "I brought something in for the guys since I thought we might be here for a few hours. Mr. Willis gave me the impression we had a lot to talk about."


    "Why thank you." Tuck said, taking them from her. "We have Chinese ordered already, but I''m sure there are a few here who might prefer this over what Edgar ordered." He took it and walked her to the conference room where everyone was already talking. Tuck placed the pizza on the table as Edgar and Jerome stood up to greet Jessica and exchange pleasantries.


    Jerome, who really isn''t a fan of Asian foods, spotted the pizza and grabbed a slice for himself. While munching on the food, he looked back to Jessica, "Thanks, and I guess now would be a better time than ever to start this thing?"


    "Well, we have pizza and a few people here who might need some blanks filled in. I guess it would be best to start off from the beginning." Edgar said, as he pretty much ignored the pizza, "Jessica, you might want to start off by telling Jerome what happened at the Vigil."


    "Which vigil did you attend?" Jerome asked, somewhat curious.


    "I was at the vigil at the national military cemetery on Sunday Night." Jessica said, as she did her best to think back, "I remember going somewhat alright with this one because it was going to be mostly silent and like a brief period of morning. Sometime during the ceremony, I saw my mother on the other side of the field. I guess she saw me because she ran away and sped off in a car as fast as she could."


    Jerome was still curious, "Your mother is the one we''re looking for, correct?" Jessica nodded, and he continued, "What connection does her mother have to..."


    "Your answers are here," Edgar said, as he handed a piece of paper over to him. Jerome was looking at the paper in utter amazement and then looked back at Edgar, as it was the manifest that Norsberg had given them.


    "Where the hell did you get this?" Jerome asked, "This is amazing!"


    "Our person is named Johnson," Edgar told Jerome as he was already scanning the names on the list.


    "And this is your mother?" Jerome asked Jessica, as he was pointing to her mother''s name on the list.


    "Yes, it is." Jessica answered, "My brother and I were in the terminal and we watched her get onboard. We know she was on the plane when it left the gate." She could see that Jerome hadn''t been given all the details of the case so far, so this must have been the time that Edgar was going to use to get everyone on the same page.


    "This is amazing. If you saw your mother... this opens a whole can of worms that has always been suspected but never proven." Jerome took a seat and kept staring at the manifest, "Can I keep this?" he asked Edgar, like a young boy at Toys R'' Us who just found that must have toy of the Christmas season. While still reading it, he picked up his slice of pizza and resumed eating while reading it over. "There isn''t even a single marker smudge on this at all! Where the hell..."


    "Let''s get back to the topic at hand." Edgar interrupted, somewhat eager to not focus on the founder of the feast. "We might as well start from the beginning, that being the crash of flight 77."


    Jerome quickly finished his current bite, "You mean the alleged crash of Flight 77."


    Jessica quickly picked up on this, "What do you mean alleged?"If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "I mean there is even more evidence that suggests that a plane didn''t crash into the Pentagon." Jerome replied, "All this evidence has been staring us in the face for five years, and no one was brave enough to ask the important questions."


    "But aren''t you just talking about wild conspiracy theories?" Tuck said out loud from a corner of the conference room. He never seemed impressed with the suggestion, and used the opportunity to air it out for the discussion.


    "Conspiracy theories are nothing to be afraid of." Jerome countered as he put down his greasy food, "Throughout history, almost every tragic event had theories that were presented to the public in order to offer an alternate premise to what could have happened. The word ''conspiracy'' has been added to it mostly because theories presented usually include more than one person planning the event or tragedy in question, thus making it a premeditated offense. Conspiracy theories date back centuries, with stories such as the Illuminati and One World Government to today''s big whoppers like the assassinations of President Kennedy and Martin Luther King Junior. Every major event in history has their own theory, to the point where people in my field jokingly say that an event isn''t truly one of a kind unless they have their own conspiracy theories. Take both World Wars as a prime example. There''s a long standing theory that Archduke Francis Ferdinand''s assassination in Sarajevo was orchestrated but the Germans to push their own ally into a war. The theory was that the Germans were eager to start a war while they were still winning the arms race. Then there''s the theory about the Second World War and the attack on Pearl Harbor."


    "Did we bomb ourselves then too?" another person asked sarcastically. There was a little laughter, and when things settled down Jerome responded.


    "No, of course we didn''t." Jerome answered, "The conspiracy theory surrounding that event is that the government had prior knowledge to the attack and did nothing to stop it. The motive was that the military thought a huge body count in the harbor would create an outcry large enough to allow the US Government to finally get off the bench and into both sides of the war, which worked since the US immediately declared war on both Japan and Germany. I''m not saying any these suppositions are true, but that''s the reason why we call them theories. They sound nice but have little or no evidence to back them up in any way."


    Jerome took a final bite of his pizza, tossed the crust into the trash can beside him and paused for a moment to chew his food.


    "That brings us to the theories surrounding the alleged crash of flight 77." Jerome continued, "The stories surrounding that particular event began to surface in February of 2002, by a French website called "Hunt the Boeing". It was this website that for the first time presented ideas and theories that contradicted the government''s story about what happened in Washington on September 11th. I know we all saw the same footage on that tragic day and were all fed the same story about a plane had slammed into the side of the Pentagon at 9:43am. What this website showed the public was photos that presented and evidence details that contradicted the official story. These photos showed a smaller hole in the building and damage that was too small to have been caused by a Boeing 757. Many people who looked into the theories were originally trying to debunk the story, only to be consumed by the theory and convinced that things were too fishy to ignore. "Hunt the Boeing" presented too many good questions without enough answers to back up the official story. The best way to describe this is with a visual aide."


    Edgar took care of this for him and waked into the other room and came back with a decent sized white board, and a few markers, "I think this might do the trick for you." he said as he went back to where he was sitting beside Tuck.


    "Thanks," Jerome said as he took a piece marker and began to draw on the board, "Based on the photographs of the Pentagon that were taken days after the attack, we were able to calculate that the size of the hole in the Pentagon is 65 feet across, and the height of the building is 73 feet tall..." Jerome drew a picture of what he estimated would be the size of the damage caused to the building. "This is the size of the damage caused at the pentagon that day. However, this is where things get sticky because the wing span from tip to tip on a 757 is a little over a hundred and twenty four feet. From nose to tail, the plane is over a hundred a fifty-five feet long and the height is forty-four and a half feet high. So let''s think about this again, a plane that is over a hundred and twenty feet wide and have a look at that in comparison to the hole we found at the Pentagon." Jerome too a red piece of marker this time and drew in the dimensions of the 757 wingspan and the tail height into the picture. "How does a plane this massive fit into a hole that is just a little over half its size?" Jerome turned back to the several people listening to him and no one could provide an answer, "When we look at the damage that was also sustained by the Pentagon, we learned that it isn''t consistent with the damage that was sustained at the World Trade Center. If it was in fact a Boeing 757 that hit the pentagon, the wings would have cause damage a lot wider than sixty-five feet, which suggests that something smaller than a 757 hit the building instead. This is where many of the theories surrounding the Pentagon take up roots. They all suspect that something else other than an airliner hit this building and if this is the case, it would explain why your mother is still alive."


    "Wow," Jessica said, amazed by what she heard so far. "This is the first I''m hearing about this."


    "I''m not surprised," Jerome replied, "The media and the government has worked very hard to silence the dissenting voices regarding the events of September 11th. You have to look very hard just to find some of it on the internet."


    "So this is where you come in," Jerome said to Jessica, "This means your mother''s living, breathing body is all the proof someone would need to blow this case wide open. It would put a lot of top ranking officials on the hot seat. This could be the biggest cover up in the history of our nation and if we can find Jessica''s mother, we might be able to prove it."

 Chapter 13

    As Mrs. Johnson lay in bed and tried her best to get some sleep, like most nights it was almost impossible. She had a hard time closing her eyes without seeing things from the past she didn''t want to relive. But every night when she closed here eyes, the images of what happened over the past five years start to flood her mind like the mother of all instant replays. No matter how hard she tried, the images of what happened that day never left her head, especially when she''s was laying there with nothing else to do. Sometimes distractions helped her fall asleep, like watching late night shows or getting some warm milk from the kitchen. Yet that night was different, as she wasn''t in the mood for either and had tried to just fall asleep the old fashioned way. It never stopped that amazing memory of hers from stopping the replays from coming back to her. She still remembered it all like it was the day before.


    She was sitting in her chair in the middle of her row, and was eager to ask for a pillow. Usually during these long cross continental flights, it was easier for her to just sleep while they were in the air, which helped the time pass a lot faster. As the passengers stepped onto the plane and began to pack their overstuffed carry on bags into the overhead compartment, everything seemed rather normal that day. The weather was perfect, the skies were clear, which was nice because messy weather always made her nervous whenever she flew.


    The stewards did their normal and very lame airline safety skit. As if anyone would remember that crap if it ever hit the fan, she remembered thinking to herself that day. Nope, everyone would be running for their lives and thinking of only number 1 had anything bad were to occur. She knew that and it was the reason why she specifically chose a seat very close to the emergency exits so that if necessary she can make a quick escape before mass panic picked up within the cramped cabin. The plane didn''t have any trouble making it out of the airport as traffic on the ground was pretty loose and easy moving. They were able to taxi out to the runway and take off in good time. This meant the pilot wouldn''t have to risk speeding up to make up for lost time as they traveled across the country. There were not in the air for any more than an hour before the plane changed directions. She looked around to see what might be going and even asked the steward but the entire staff was rather tight lipped. When they started to make a decent, that''s when people started to get upset and frustrated. The stewards started to tell the passengers that there was a mechanical problem that needed to be taken care of immediately just for the sake of caution.


    That seemed to settle people down as many liked the fact that the pilot was just being safe and responsible with their lives. It was when the airliner taxied to an empty cargo bay that started to cause the real problems. The plane was immediately boarded by armed men dressed in black body armor, looking like a swat team from a corny action film. This was when Mrs. Johnson saw Mr. Carlson for the first time, as he was the only non-masked man to step onboard. He had raised his hands as he tried to settle down the nervous passengers.


    "Please try to remain calm." Carlson said in a civil tone as he raised a badge for all to see, "I''m a Federal Agent. We have boarded this plane because we received intel of a possible hostile threat. We need to evacuate the plane immediately so that we can get this plane inspected as soon as possible. Once that''s finished, we''ll have you back onboard and in the air as soon as possible. You''re not the only plane being inspected today, but we have to take every threat seriously, so help us out and co-operate with these men and we''ll try to get this taken care of quickly. Thank you."


    After hearing the news of a possible hostilities the passengers wanted to get off the plane wondering if there was a bomb onboard, and co-operated as they were shuffled off the plane and led outside where another large number of masked swat wannabes were waiting outside. Once off the plane, the masked men were taking passengers and breaking them up into specific groups and then leading them away to a certain door at the back of the hangar. She didn''t know quite to make of it but would soon find out as one of the men asked her to follow him. She did as she was told and walked with several others who were also asked to follow. When they walked through the door, there was a black van with heavily tinted windows waiting. It was like a police paddy wagon and when one of the passengers realized he wasn''t going to get back into the cargo bay and onto the plane, he started to resist. It took a few minutes but he was coaxed into the van by force and tossed in. Mrs. Johnson didn''t put up a fight and slowed stepped in as well and took a seat. The masked men closed the doors and locked them up. One of them slapped the back door to let the driver know it was secure. The car started up immediately and began to drive away from the hangar for an unknown destination.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    That was the last she would ever see of Flight 77, and days later she would be informed of her death at the hand of terrorists who were attacking America via suicide missions with hijacked airliners. She knew it was all a lie, but she wasn''t in a position to offer any resistance of any kind. If they were willing to conduct a fraud that massive on the public, there was no telling what they would be willing to do to her to keep her silent. It was this fear that kept her quiet and co-operative.


    Mrs. Johnson sat up and turned the light beside her bed back on. She couldn''t forget that day, as every detail came back to her as if it just happened yesterday. The smell of the hangar that reeked of fuel and the masked man who obviously had too many coffees that morning and never bothered to pop and breathe mint were all engraved in her memory. There were days she couldn''t stop crying in anger for what had happened to her, and then there were other days when she considered herself lucky to be alive. There had been rumors that the other plane in Pennsylvania had been shot down and never made it to the hangar where she and here passengers were carried from. That could have easily been their plane had the powers that be merely wished it to be. She was alive and despite her secret past, able to live a somewhat normal life.


    So why did she feel the need to attend that vigil?


    The answer was the loss of her son. Nothing had made her feel worse then the news about how David had taken her death. Her passive young man uncharacteristically joined the military and eagerly went to Afghanistan to personally kick Osama''s ass and deliver a little vengeance in her name. Her son was always a good kid who never reacted with such anger in all the time she had known him. David was the kind of boy who would never hit back, and always turned the other cheek when challenged to any kind of fight on the playground. He refused to play football and joined the chess club because it wasn''t as stressing and he wasn''t comfortable with the idea of hitting other people or using his body as a weapon. So his eagerness to volunteer for the military and go to war came as a complete shock to her. He must have taken a lot of the enemy out because he had been decorated many times with medals for his work. Mr. Carlson had personally delivered a picture of him receiving one of the medals for her to hang up in her house. She didn''t hang it up, but found a place for it so she could go back to it every now and then. It was nice to have a new photo of one of her kids, but it felt weird to see her little boy in uniform and receiving a medal for doing something so barbaric.


    It was the news of David''s death that made for one of the worst days of her life. She cried for what felt like months but was only a few weeks and dived into complete depression. It became so bad that Mr. Carlson had her committed to a psychiatric ward at a military hospital for a few weeks. She blamed herself for the death of her son, because he wouldn''t have stormed off for war if she hadn''t disappeared. If she hadn''t been on that plane and more eager to spend time with her sister than be home with her family, then her son wouldn''t have marched off to war and eventually towards his own death. It took a long time for her to let it go and try to move on.


    The vigil was her attempt to make amends and in her own way apologize to David for tricking him into thinking that he needed to go out there and do something like that for her. She was racked with guilt, but never expected to see Jessica out there. She had no idea that her daughter was so political and even attending these vigils. She was so young and full of herself to the point where the vigil was the last place she ever expected her daughter to show up. Jessica was a brat, someone who only worried about where her next allowance was going to come from, so for her to attend an event such as the vigil was proof that a lot of growing up had taken place in her absence.


    Her brother''s death must have caused more change in Jessica than she had originally thought. The more she thought about Jessica, she only had one question going through her head: what was she going to do about it? Was she going to look for her mother or dismiss what she saw and move on with her life? Mrs. Johnson also wondered if there was someone out there that could help her if she did want to look for her mother. Someone to show her the way and protect her from Carlson and Smith. It was a lot to ask for, but she prayed that night before trying to sleep again. She prayed for the safety of her daughter and the people who would help her, while also hoping that they would find her so she could be reunited with her child. It was a lot to ask for, but she had to keep faith that Jessica would try to find her. At the moment it was the only hope she had left.

 Chapter 14

    "I remember you saying something about fuel the last time we talked about this." Edgar said, trying to push things along.


    "I was just getting to that," Jerome said, as he put the chalk back down, "According to the ''experts'', when two planes hit the towers at the World Trade Center, they created a flame so hot that it melted the metal foundations which was claimed to be ''the official cause'' of their record collapse. While I''m ready to debate that part right now, there are photos that show the pentagon after the fire was put out. I downloaded them off the internet for you to look at." Jerome took out some photos and started to pass them around.


    "That would explain why the printer is out of toner." Tuck said as Jerome handed a copy of the photo over to Edgar.


    "I think we can afford a little more now," Edgar retorted as he began to inspect the photo of the post-attack pentagon, "I don''t understand, what exactly are looking for here?"


    Jerome walked up and pointed to a small corner of his photo. Edgar couldn''t make out what it was so he grabbed a magnifying glass and took a closer look. He inspected the corner that Jerome had pointed at for a few moments and then he saw it.


    "Son of a bitch." Edgar said as he made the discovery.


    On the third floor of the Pentagon, there was a filing cabinet with a computer monitor stashed on top of it. Both are almost on the edge of where the gap of damage began and were clear as day to look at. There was one thing missing from this room and Edgar could tell immediately: fire damage. Both the cabinet and the monitor were not even singed, and the wall behind the monitor was white as if it had been painted that day... all inconsistent with a fire that Jerome was describing.


    "This doesn''t look right, these things look brand new." Edgar concluded as he handed the photo for Tuck to look at.


    "Every one of the planes involved in the attacks was scheduled to make cross continental flights." Jerome reminded the detectives. "They all left the east coast and were direct flights to California, which means Flight 77''s fuel tanks were near capacity when it hit the Pentagon. That means the plane was carrying over eight thousand gallons of jet fuel that would and should have been ignited on impact. Can anyone here look at these photos and think that the damage on these rooms is consistent with a fire that has that much fuel involved?"


    Jerome paused for a moment to let that question digest. Edgar himself while not full convinced started to get that nagging feeling in the back of his head. Something was starting to look rotten in the state of Denmark.


    "What kind of fire would that much fuel make?" Jessica asked, pretty much hanging off every word Jerome was saying.


    "There was a study done by the Environmental Assessment Association concerning this issue," Jerome said, "And their findings were quite remarkable. According to the EAA, the amount of fuel that was remaining on Flight 77 should have burned for days and reduced most of that wing of the Pentagon to ashes. All that rocket fuel also should have had a BTU rate of over eighty-six million. The EAA also stated that the fire should have been over three thousand degrees, so we''re talking a fire almost as hot as napalm. They also concluded that the velocity of the plane and the impact should have reduced that portion of the Pentagon to a pancake. That amount of rocket fuel also should have resulted in the removal of soil from the front yard of the Pentagon, as it should have been considered a hazardous spill and quarantined off for weeks until cleaned up. Yet none of the Pentagon''s front yard was damaged, nor was some parts of the inside, as you can see on those photos. So what happened to the fuel? If this was a terrorist attack, I doubt the attackers would have dumped any fuel before crashing. They would have wanted this sucker to be fully loaded for impact so that the fire would do as much damage as possible, which would explain why they selected cross continental flights for their attacks. So the damage that we see in these photos puts into question of what hit the pentagon because it''s not damaged enough to be by something that had that much fuel. This doesn''t make sense, and doesn''t fit just like an airliner with a wingspan of over a hundred and twenty feet doesn''t fit into a sixty five foot hole."


    "So you don''t think a plane hit the pentagon?" Jessica asked somewhat bewildered by the suggestion. She was so used to believing what she was told by everyone since that tragic day. The government and the media kept telling her what to believe and after hearing it so many times, she believed it without question. After seeing her mom, she was willing to at least listen to anything regardless of how weird it sounded.


    "I don''t think so," Jerome confirmed for her, "The blast, fire and damage the building took is more consistent with a cruise missile than a plane. It would explain why there was no fuel to burn up the wing, and why there were little or no plane pieces on the ground in front of the building."


    "So who fired the missile?" Tuck asked someone intrigued by the notion, "I doubt Al Queda had that kind of firepower in their arsenal."


    "They don''t," Edgar answered this time.


    "Correct," Jerome agreed, "If it wasn''t a plane and indeed a missile, then it would suggest that someone besides the usual suspects conducted the attack on the Pentagon. The number one suspect for this is the our own government."


    There were a few soft chuckles from some of the other workers in the outer offices as they were listening as well.


    "I know this sounds off the charts crazy," Jerome said, as he could understand why there were some doubters. "But I''m serious."


    "Do you have any idea what you just suggested?" Tuck asked.


    "I think he pretty much just accused Uncle Sam of setting his own house on fire," Edgar agreed, "That''s a pretty bold accusation, sport."Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    "Who else would have the ability to know if any part of the Pentagon was undergoing renovations?" Jerome asked. "If that part of the building was hit intentionally, who besides someone on the inside has that kind of sophisticated guidance system capable of hitting a target that precisely? And even if it was another nation with that kind of missile, how could they sneak them into the country and into WashingtonD.C. for that matter? Is there anyone else who would be able to launch that kind of missile and have it remain undetected until it was too late? If you can name someone who can do all that and get away with it, I''m all ears."


    There was no response to his question, so Jerome continued.


    "On order to set up a missile and hit a building that quickly undetected means that person doing it had to know the people doing the detecting and made them look the other way," Jerome added, "They''re also the only people who could conduct this kind of quick action in co-ordination with the New York attacks."


    "You''re not trying to say that they attacked New York as well, are you?" Edgar said, with a hint of disbelief himself.


    "While there are just as many theories surrounding New York, I''m not going there right now because I want to focus on the Pentagon." Jerome answered, "I''m working with the premise that the Pentagon was attacked to make sure that the assault in New York wouldn''t be panned by critics as an isolated incident. One attack could have been brushed off by the general public as a one time thing. Hitting two cities in the same day turned what would have been one isolated incident into nationwide mass hysteria. This makes sense because the people in power used that hysteria to push some very radical agendas that would have never passed prior to 9/11. You have to remember the Pentagon was never hit until an hour after the planes hit their targets in the big apple. That means a military or black ops team in charge of setting up this attack had less than an hour to set up their rocket and slam it into the building. That kind of set up is not easy, so there is the possibility that the government had advance knowledge of the attacks that were going to occur in New York."


    "So like Pearl Harbor theory," Edgar suggested, "The government let the bloodshed go ahead to get the outcry they needed for war?"


    "That''s pretty cold, even for our government." Tuck added, as he tried to get a feel for what Jerome was accusing the system of.


    "Well, everyone who watched the 9/11 Commission hearings know that the title of that August 6th security brief was "Bin Laden wants to strike America" so this isn''t a very tough theory to prove." Jerome said, "Half of the government knew Bin Laden wanted to attack. That''s not much of a stretch so we''ll go with it; they knew something was up and could have easily set this up to put their own icing on the cake."


    "So this was our missile?" another detective asked, while rubbing his head in clear frustration.


    "Regardless of how the missile came into the picture," Jerome carried on, unwilling to let the doubt and questions get to him, "All I know is that the damage that building took doesn''t match what the government is asking us to believe. This is where most of conspiracy theories get their life from. We don''t think the story sticks and look for the answers ourselves, and if the answer doesn''t match with the official story, so be it."


    "So what do you think happened to the plane?" Edgar asked trying to keep up.


    "And the passengers?" Jessica asked somewhat eager to hear the answer to this as well.


    "It''s a question that a lot of people have been thinking about for a while." Jerome said as he walked back to the chalk board, "Two of the most popular theories is that Flight 77 was either shot down by fighter jets or diverted to a different airport, stowed and later torn apart."


    "If the plane was shot down buy fighters, why wouldn''t the government take credit for it and claim victory over the terrorists?" Tuck asked, somewhat lost at this point.


    "Would you want to take credit for shooting your own civilians out of the sky less than a year into your first term in the oval office?" Jerome said trying to slap some sense into the private workers, "Would anyone here really vote for a President who gave the command to shoot down a plane full of innocent civilians?" no one raised their hand, "I didn''t think so, and neither did they."


    "Yet the plane wasn''t shot down, was it?" Edgar asked, very confident he was on the right page.


    "Well, up until now... most people working on the theories didn''t know for sure." Jerome said, trying to be as honest as he could, "But if Ms. Johnson is right and it really was her mother she saw at the vigil, then that would support the latter of the two suggestions. So we should work with the theory that the plane was diverted and stashed away. So if the passengers were not killed by a fighter jet or a collision with the Pentagon, they must have been placed into what I can only speculate is a covert relocation program."


    "This doesn''t make any sense," Another detective in the offices said, "Why bother with that kind of advanced program? Wouldn''t that just make exposure and the chances of getting caught greater?"


    "Chances are it does," Jerome conceded, "But you could argue that not killing the passengers could work as an insurance policy in case those involved are in fact caught red-handed. Which would you rather be found guilty of: relocating a hundred people against their will or murdering them? I guess if the government is ever caught they could always say, ''Look, we''re not that bad. They''re still here!'' and act like everything is all right. It gives them an attempt to act moral in the face of something that is completely off the charts immoral." Jerome seemed to be in the zone as he took a sip of water and continued to rant on, "This is the only working theory that makes sense, pretty much covers all the bases, and fits with Ms. Johnson''s story. The government is the only power big enough to pull something of this size off. They already have a relocation program in place, so it''s not hard to imagine them using it to relocate less than a hundred people from this flight. So if they''re alive as Ms. Johnson has testified too, then we can locate her and by doing so expose the government''s web of lies and prove to the public what really happened!"


    Everyone paused for a moment and finally it was Tuck who spoke first, "Wasn''t that a little too melodramatic?"


    "You think so?" Jerome said.


    "Just a smidge, sport." Edgar said as everyone had a good laugh at the young man''s expense. At that moment out of the corner of his eye, Edgar realized there was someone else in the conference room he hadn''t noticed before. Devon was standing close to the door, being abnormally quiet.


    "Hey," Devon said, when he noticed Edgar looking at him.


    "Hey," Edgar replied, trying to act cool. "How long have you been there?"


    "Long enough to know what kind of mess you''re trying to get us involved in." Devon said not looking too impressed, "We need to talk about this, right now."


    Tuck tried to say something, but Edgar raised his hand and stopped him in mid-sentence, "Of course, we can talk this over in my office."


    Everyone watched in silence as Edgar and Devon exited the conference room and strolled across the lobby and into the office and the door was closed with a stiff slam. What they heard next surprised them all because it was the last thing they expected to hear.

 Chapter 15

    Mr. Carlson always worked late into the night. He was usually the first to arrive and likely always the last to leave. For someone on the government''s dime, it''s a shame no one knew he existed. He would be the one person in the system who actually works hard day in and day out for his income. As usual, he had a lot of reports to file with his superiors and they expected them all on time and highly organized. Carlson was responsible for numerous people and had to keep tabs on what they did and how well they managed to keep their covers. Any kind of leak or exposure could ruin everything so his job was quite important. He had a decent staff of hundreds of people, and they all had important jobs as well. They lived near the locations of the people who had been relocated and took pictures for documentation of what they were doing and how they were adjusting to their relocation. It was Mr. Carlson''s job to know which ones were feeling homesick, and whether or not that would lead them to make contact with people they''re not allowed to speak with anymore. Preventing any of these people from being exposed to the public and even worse keeping the media from discovering what could be the biggest cover up in their nation''s history was a tall order. There were days when he even questioned his job and what he was doing to prevent the truth from being known. Yet when he had days like that he was able to seek comfort in knowing that what they all did that day was for the good of the nation and had to be done. He had no problem sleeping at night, and the people he worked for made sure he was paid well to take care of their problem and make sure it didn''t come back to bite them in the ass.


    The program was hard to get off the ground, but once the people involved accepted their fate and agreed to relocation, it made things much easier to handle. Many of them had to be detained in a prison like atmosphere until co-operation was assured. Some were easy to convince, especially when you knew what strings to pull. There were a few people involved were told that their families were well compensated for having lost someone in the disaster, and that they were better off dead to their family than alive. To some the million-dollar plus package that was given to their families was enough reason for them to agree to relocation especially if the person in question wasn''t too well off to begin with. In return for co-operating with the program, those who volunteered to accept relocation were given everything they needed to move on from what had happened. Some where re-educated and given better lives and a chance to start over. They were moved to another part of the nation, most of the time a small town that has little or nothing to do with anything that happened. Usually a small rural town with less than twenty thousand people was the ideal choice for relocation. They are the most appealing because towns like that mind their own business and don''t nose around too much, and the media isn''t as active as well so you lessen the odds of someone accidentally appearing on television.


    Regardless of where the person is relocated, you have to treat each case as if they were moved only a short distance from where they used to live. Anything less opens up your operation too much and that often leads to someone getting caught with someone who is supposed to be dead. Not exactly the position that the government/agencies want to find themselves in. So he was hired to oversee a portion of this relocation project because the powers that be respect and trust his work but he did his best to be fair to all parties involved, not just those pulling the strings. Yet every program has their faults, and this one had been no different. There have been only a few sightings, and when that has happened, the subject in question is quickly relocated and moved to another town where contact with the person in question is less likely to occur again.


    They even had one person who tried to run. That was an unfortunate incident that didn''t end well. He had a lot of explaining to do and it was a mess that cost a lot of money to cover up. It''s something he hoped wouldn''t happen again, but it was the first thing on their mind when Mrs. Johnson disappeared for two days. They thought she had run, but it turns out she only left town to attend an anti-war vigil. She was there to morn the loss of her son, and it was something his superiors could understand since they have first hand knowledge of what is going on in that part of the world. It was a quiet event, and she was there just to light a candle and not talk to anyone. It wasn''t like she went to a more public protest in front of the White House with Cindy Sheehan. This vigil was private and the media wasn''t present... she had picked the event very carefully.


    Unfortunately, she wasn''t careful enough as the sighting would suggest. Carlson had refused to believe she had run, because Ms. Johnson had been the most co-operative of all the people relocated. Even when her son had died, she had stayed where she was and didn''t risk exposing the program. He refused to believe she would do this and it turned out he was right. He learned later that night that she had left with one of their agents to attend a vigil. So despite traveling Mrs. Johnson was still under proper supervision but the problem was the agent that failed to get approval for the trip. They couldn''t fire her, not with the information she had concerning the project, so they transferred her to a different project where she can do her work without further incident.Stolen story; please report.


    That however didn''t change things. Someone saw her and to make things worse it was a member of her family. If it was a friend, you could easily make them believe that it was someone else they saw. Family members were different because once they see something they want to believe, it''s rather hard to change their position on it. To defuse the situation, they had got in touch with a contact at the police station, and advised him to be on the look out for her, and to help the station laugh off any attempts to tell them what she saw. He was very effective as Ms. Johnson left in tears and hasn''t returned to the station since. She tried to talk to a few private investigators but he also used some muscle in the sector to scare a lot of them away. The rest of them would just turn her down because that kind of missing person search was too high for her to finance. This was a bullet they desperately needed to dodge, or he could face some tough questions from those above him. It wasn''t exactly something he wanted to take again so soon after he had to neutralize a runaway a few months ago. It was the last thing he needed, but that''s when things like this usually happen. Murphy''s Law at work.


    Mr. Carlson was finishing up some paper work, when Mr. Smith came into the room. He looked a little concerned and knocked on the door with a quick and what seemed to be a hurried force. He looked up at Smith for a moment and realized by looking into his worried eyes that he had something important to share with him. It was the last thing Carlson needed, but he waved for Smith to come in and share what he had.


    "This better be worth my time." Carlson started, "The last thing I need is another headache."


    "If what we have here is true, this will give you a migraine." Smith said as he slapped down some photos.


    Carlson took the photos out and had a look. They were of young Jessica Johnson, walking into the building that was known to be Edgar Willis'' place of work. He shrugged off the photos, "I''m aware of her visit to Mr. Willis. Why are you showing these to me?"


    "Because I had her tailed," Smith stared, "Edgar Willis was at her place of work this afternoon. These photos were taken two hours ago after that meeting at her work took place. This is her second visit, not her first. She''s still there right now."


    Carlson sat back and thought about this for a moment. It doesn''t make any sense; Carlson thought to himself as he looked at the photos again, "I thought Willis didn''t take any charity cases. Why is he talking to her again?"


    "I''m not sure," Smith replied, "But if he''s talking to her and she''s visiting him again, this could be trouble. It looks very much like he''s taking the case regardless of Ms. Johnson''s lack of funds. We don''t know what his motives are but I can always look into it."


    "Not a development I wanted to see," Carlson admitted as he sat back in his chair to think. It was the last thing he wanted to hear. It was something he was going to have to work through, like he always did, "Run the usual background check on both him and Mr. Tucker. I want to know why or what happened between then and now to make them want to even hear her out again, let alone take her case."


    "Should we consider moving Mrs. Johnson again, just to be safe?" Smith asked. It seemed like the obvious action to be taken.


    "No," Carlson said as he was actually getting a migraine now, "Leave her where she is. Willis and Tucker might try to look for something like that and we''d be playing right into her hands. Double the detail on her location and read her the riot act. She needs to minimize travel and contact for at least the next six weeks. We have to treat this like an incoming storm. You don''t run and risk getting swept up. You bunker in and ride it out. They don''t know where she is, and we can keep it that way by not moving around and opening ourselves up to exposure."


    "Makes sense to me," Smith agreed, "but I recommend we get a new location ready just in case we need to make a quick transfer."


    "Agreed," Carlson said as he went back to his paper work, "Keep that tail on Ms. Johnson, and we''ll see if this is just a quick inquiry or a long term contract she has with Mr. Willis and Mr. Tucker. I want another update tomorrow."


    "Yes, Sir." Smith said as he took his photos and vacated the office.


    Carlson watched the young agent leave his office and dart right back to work. He realized that the young man''s energy and dedication for his job was what he needed since he himself was starting to slow down. Soon, Carlson thought, he would have to retire and become one of the relocated people he''s paid to watch. He was fully aware that someone who knew as much as he did can''t be released into general population, that''s too risky. Carlson opened a drawer and took out a small container of pills. He popped a few and slammed them down with a swig of Scotch to combat the aching his head. Murphy was now clocking some serious overtime and was starting to get on his last nerve.

 Chapter 16

    The moment Edgar closed the door, Devon came at him with a vicious right hook that would have tore his head off had it connected. Edgar knew Devon too well, and was already ready to block the incoming shot, grabbed his attacker''s arm and used it to fling him over his shoulder and into the wall with a horrendous thud. It took Devon a few moments to shake it off but he got back to his feet and tried again, and the two men blocked punches and kicks for a few seconds. Devon broke things up by grabbing Edgar''s leg and tossing him across his desk, knocking him and scattering all the stuff on top his desk onto the floor. Devon walked over to the other side of the desk, picked Edgar up off the floor and pinned him to the wall. The big man didn''t seem happy at that point for some reason.


    "Why didn''t you care to fill us in on this information?" Devon asked, his annoyance coming through rather well. "Don''t you think we deserved to know what kind of trouble you bastards were getting us into before we agreed to work for you and that crazy kid at the white board?"


    Edgar responded with a swift kick to Devon''s left knee that caused him to buckle and loosen his grip a little. Edgar than used the moment of freedom to deliver a swift uppercut that connected squarely on Devon''s jaw, sending the biker falling to the floor, landing on his back with another ugly thud. After taking a large huff, Devon attempted to get back up. It was something Edgar didn''t approve of as he kicked he bounty hunter back to the floor.


    "Stay down there for a few moments," Edgar said, "Or I''ll put you down again and this time you won''t be able to get up. Understood?"


    "When were you going to tell me about all this crap?" Devon sharply asked, wiping the blood of his chin, "My team and I had a right to know about this. It''s one thing to deal with personal body guards, but dealing with covert government agencies is another matter all together!"


    "You haven''t even accepted the job yet, you ignorant son-of-a-bitch!" Edgar yelled back, "Why am I going to give away vital details of the case to someone who isn''t even officially onboard yet?"


    "You knew that there was a chance my team might back out if we knew that the doors we might be knocking down happened to be on government property." Devon said without an ounce of regret, "You deserved that shot for being an arrogant, untrusting prick."


    "Well, I''d rather be hated than boring." Edgar said as he didn''t give a shit what Devon thought of him, "We had every intention of telling you because your job isn''t just to help us with the search but to watch our backs in case some of these wild stories ring true."


    "Do you really believe that brat''s theories?" Devon said as he sat up but remained seated on the floor, "Because they sounded really out there."


    "That''s what we''ve been hired to do." Edgar crouched down and looked Devon in the eyes, "Find out whether the story is true or if it''s just another harebrained assumption." We may not like each other very much, but I trust you. We have a history that goes a long way, and when doing a job this dangerous I need someone who I completely trust to have my back. In order to look forward and search for the difficult answers, I can''t afford to keep looking behind me to make sure everything on my side is all right. I''m going to cover my ass when things get out of control, just in case that nut ball is right. Your team''s uncanny ability to sneak up on someone and hunt them down would be an asset for this kind of case."


    "I don''t get it. Why are you tossing so much money my way? She doesn''t look that loaded to..." Devon paused as his brain seemed to pick up the pace and answer the question for him, "Shit."


    "Keep going," Edgar said.


    "Someone else is picking up the tab," he spat a little blood out from the side of his mouth, "Give me a name. Who wants us to look for a person that some else just as powerful doesn''t want us to find?"


    Edgar responded by walking out of the room. Devon picked himself off the floor and sat on the corner of the messed up desk and waited for him to return. Everyone who was in the conference room came out into the lobby to listen to the fight going on inside Edgar''s office. As he walked out, Edgar raised his hand and stopped Tuck from saying anything. Instead he took the manifest away from Jerome, turned around and then walked right back into the office and slammed the door behind him. He handed the piece of paper to Devon and then sat down in his chair. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and huffed out loud


    "Just let me know when you come by a name that should be familiar to us both." Edgar said, as he patiently waited.


    Devon scanned the piece of paper and than finally stopped when he reached the name Edgar knew he would recognize.


    "Sweet Jesus," the bounty hunter cursed as it started to all make sense, "I thought that rolling prune wasn''t talking to you anymore."


    "That would make two of us, but then he invited me to lunch and gave me that manifest as a peace offering." Edgar reached into a drawer and pulled out his scotch bottle and two shot glasses, "He wants us to take Ms. Johnson''s case with the hope that if one of them could be found then so could his daughter."Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "Fuck me," Devon said, "How much is that old bastard paying us to chase this lead?"


    "Enough to make me want to work with you again." Edgar answered.


    Devon took his rink and downed it. "That''s a lot of fucking money."


    "You have no idea," Edgar said as he passed a full shot glass to Devon. After putting the bottle down, he slammed down his own shot glass,


    "Goddamn," Davon said, passing his glass back.


    "So are you in?" he quickly asked.


    Devon paused for a moment, "Tuck said all expenses are covered, which means the money you''re offering is all take home?"


    "That''s correct." Edgar confirmed, "What did your team say?"


    "Some are worried about the danger," Devon answered, "While others are more than eager to take your money. We''re on board with this one Edgar, but I need you to be 100% honest with me or it will only stall any attempt we make at trying to find this person."


    "Sounds fair to me," Edgar said, "Anything else?"


    "Yeah," Devon said as he finally got back to his feet, "I only answer to you. There''s no way in hell I''m taking orders from that old fart."


    "He''s not going to be here," Edgar added. "Norsberg wants to keep a very low profile."


    "That''s the first smart thing I''ve ever heard him do." Devon admitted.


    "For once I happen to agree." Edgar said, as their conversation was finally starting to turn pleasant, "I know how you work, and for that reason I know you''ll be the best man to for this job. I really hope the team is willing to work with us on this."


    "The only reason why I''m willing to do this is for the green," Devon said, sighing deeply. "That being said, I want three hundred large upfront and another hundred after we find the woman. Given the kind of people we are possible bound to piss off, I think that''s very reasonable."


    Edgar knew this was coming. Now that Devon knew who was footing the bill, it was foolish to assume he wouldn''t up the bounty. Truth was Edgar needed Devon a hell of a lot more than Devon needed the money, "Two fifty now, and another two fifty after you find her."


    Devon was taken back by Edgar offering more, but given the situation the detective was taking a page from the old man''s book. It seemed to work as Devon gave Edgar a smile and reach out to shake his hand.


    "Deal," Devon said, "Sorry about the office."


    "I get it," Edgar said, "Let''s try to be more civil next time."


    "Alright," Devon conceded, "I''ll try."


    "So," Edgar started, "Shall I have Tuck wire the first payment to the usual account?"


    "No." Devon replied rather quickly, "I''ll give new account info to Tuck."


    "Is there anything else we need to discuss before we let everyone know things are cool again in here?" Edgar said as he put the booze away.


    "No," Devon said as he backed to the door, "It just felt good to get a few licks in after what happened last time. We''re cool."


    "Good to hear," Edgar said as he huffed loudly as he got out of his chair, "Because we have work to do. We''re working on the basics right now. You have enough to brief your team don''t you?"


    "I do." Devon said, "And what if some of my people don''t want to participate in this little adventure? I don''t force people to work cases they''re not comfortable with."


    "Then they get to take nice long vacation, without pay." Edgar responded, "And they can meet up with you after the case is over."


    "I''ll let them know. We''ll be back tomorrow morning to get things started." Devon said as he started to walk to the door, "I assume the funds will be in my account by then?" he quietly asked.


    "Two hundred and fifty large." Edgar confirmed, "Give Tuck the new info and he''ll take care of it as soon as possible."


    Devon walked out of the office and didn''t say a word to anyone as he walked over to tuck and passed him a piece of paper, "New account number, mate. He''ll fill you in on the new numbers."


    Without saying anything else, Devon walked straight through the lobby and out the door. As Edgar walked out, he knew exactly what Tuck was going to ask and got ahead of him.


    "Relax partner," Edgar said, "They''re still onboard. The details of the case just inflated his price. I''ve got things are under control."


    Edgar suddenly realized that during his scuffle with Devon the Chinese they ordered had finally arrived. He grabbed a small box of battered shrimp, sat down and started to pop a few pieces.


    "Is Devon going to be a problem?" Tuck asked, somewhat concerned.


    "At first I thought so," Edgar answered, "He just needed a moment to get something off his chest and onto my chin. Now that we''ve gotten that out of our system, we''re on the same page. He''s on board but needs to re-brief his team."


    "That seems fair," Tuck said, "They need to make an informed choice."


    "We also need to think about a way we can locate this women without alerting people of what we''re up to." Edgar added, "We can''t run around posting flyers and stuff. This means the usual PI stuff won''t work because if we ask questions to the wrong people, they could tell someone else who might spoil what chances we have of finding her. We''re going to work by finding stuff that her Mom likes, such as habits and hobbies and use those to locate her. That''s where you come in."


    It took a second for everyone to realize he was gesturing to Jessica.


    "What do you want to know?" Jessica asked, ready to help out.


    "We need to know every detail about your Mom," Edgar started, "From there we''ll plan our attack. I want to know if she likes a specific kind of food, a favorite fast food chain. If she likes to hit the shopping network, what products get her reaching for the plastic. Basically everything she does and likes to do. We can try to track her by exploiting those details and hopefully that will allow us to get close enough without setting off any alarms. What way we''ll attempt to find her through means that no one else will think of or look for."


    "Alright." Jessica said, as she agreed, "Let''s get started."

 Chapter 17

    After talking for another hour or so, Tuck gave Jessica a ride home and everyone else went their separate ways for the night. Edgar had a decent drive ahead of him, but sometimes he didn''t mind living so far from his office. Time on the highway gave him a moment to reflect about his day and think about what he could have done or what he should do the next day. That way when he got home, he would be able to leave all that in the car most of the time and walk through the door like a blank canvas. This allowed him to crash rather easily and get a lot of sleep if there wasn''t a good game on the tube. As he pulled into the garage, it had been around forty minutes since he left the office and he felt the urge to raid the fridge for any possible leftovers. He walked into the building through the garage, climbed a few flights of stairs and then strolled until he reached the door he was looking for. After opening a few locks, he entered the small one bedroom apartment, hung up his coat and huffed down on the couch and relaxed for a moment. He considered getting something strong to drink to possibly forget the roller coaster of a day he had, but thought sleep would likely be more effective in regenerating his batteries. He stood up and began to walk towards his bedroom, when he heard a suspicious sound coming from the bathroom. He lived alone, so this immediately caught his attention. Edgar didn''t like unexpected surprises, and responded to the sound in his bathroom by pulling a semi-automatic berretta from the holster underneath his coat, and he slowly walked towards the bathroom. Without saying a word, he quickly kicked open the door to see who was there. After scaring the shit out of the woman in the bathroom with his sidearm, Edgar threw up his hands and groaned as he started to walk away from the bathroom.


    "Hello to you too, asshole." the lady in the bathroom called out as he walked away.


    "Jesus, Meredith." Edgar called back as walked back to the fridge for something to settle his nerves, "I thought you gave the key back to me a long time ago."


    "I had more than one copy made." Meredith responded as she walked out of the bathroom, "Is it safe to come out now?"


    "Yes, it is." Edgar said as he just drained a gulp of vodka straight from the bottle. An unexpected guest after taking on this new case had him a little rattled and on edge that night.


    "Have a rough day at work?" Meredith asked casually as she came into the kitchen.


    "Not really, just one that''s going to step on my last nerve for the next month or so." Edgar said as he took another gulp from the bottle, "There''s a good chance this case might, no... it will be dangerous."


    "How dangerous?" Meredith asked as she got a little closer to him. For the first time Edgar noticed that she was wearing a very sexy red teddy that didn''t leave very much to the imagination.


    "It''s dangerous enough for me to ask you to stay home for a while." Edgar confessed, "The last thing I need on my conscious is the knowledge that what I did led to you being hurt in any way."


    Edgar also knew that for the next while, he was going to be too nervous to have unexpected guests waiting for him at home all the time like Meredith was known for doing. He loved to have her over, because she was a healthy distraction but his first instinct was right: this was going to be a case too dangerous for her to hang around him for the next while.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Maybe I like danger." She said as she cuddled into his arm, pretty much hinting that she wanted to go back to the bedroom. Edgar was paid to notice hints and clues like this so he responded by putting the bottle back into the fridge.


    As he followed her towards the bedroom he called after her, "I''m very serious. I need you to leave the keys at the door when you leave tomorrow."


    Meredith stopped halfway down the hall and turned back, "Is there a problem with having me hang around for a little fun?" she said somewhat disturbed by the mere suggestion.


    "No, of course not." Edgar quickly replied, desperately trying to do a little damage control, "I not lying or trying to get rid of you. We''ve seriously starting a case that if takes a turn for the world could become very dangerous in a New York minute. I''d like you to keep your distance so that I won''t have to worry about your well being while trying to worry about my own. It''s not a distraction I need when working a case this massive."


    She walked over and embraced Edgar and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. He loved those soft little pecks. Not too hard and not too soft, just the right kind that are intimate and yet not dirty at the same time. She looked him in the eyes as he seemed to have the defeated look in his eyes.


    "Alright," Meredith finally conceded, "I can see by that puppy dog look that you are quite serious. I''m flattered that you care enough to want me to be safe. I really do appreciate that."


    "Thanks. I do like having you here... always have." Edgar said as he put his arms around her waist, "I''m just going to need my A game in order to make everything work out. Because of this case, Tuck and I managed to land a mammoth paycheck for the business."


    Meredith seemed taken back by this sudden announcement, "How big are we talking here, handsome?"


    "Try ''Sir Nigel Norsberg'' big." Edgar said, knowing she was aware of his history with the old fart. They had been an item that long and he talked to her about a lot of her cases.


    "Holy shit!" Meredith said as she finally realized what kind of case he was getting involved in, "How big is this case?"


    "Let''s just say he paid us upfront, and with a lot of zeroes." Edgar said as he removed his coat, "More than enough for us take that trip to Fiji we''ve always been talking about. Spend the better part of a month on the beach, sipping drinks with small umbrellas in them."


    "Wow," she said, "that sounds fun."


    "We could even go ring shopping if you''re up for it." Edgar added, knowing that would get the reaction he was hoping for.


    Meredith started to blush and couldn''t believe what she was hearing, "Do you really mean that Edgar?"


    "I do." Edgar confirmed, "But for now I need you to keep your space for the next few weeks, because we expect this case to piss off a lot of people. The kind of people who might use vandalism, violence and anything else they can think of to shake us from this case. Understood?"


    "Alright, I promise." Meredith said as she held him again. They kissed again for a few moments, then she looked him in the eyes, "Feel like ordering out?"


    "As long as it''s anything but Thai, I''m all for it." Edgar said as he scooped her up into his arms, "But first, I think we need to work up an appetite."


    Edgar then carried Meredith off to the bedroom at the end of the hall and closed the door behind him.

 Chapter 18

    Tuck was the first one to show up for work the next morning. He took the mail up to the main office and opened the doors before retreating to his office for breakfast. He has his usual spread of black coffee with two pounds of sugar and a few cheese croissants, which he usually needed to finish before Edgar arrived or his partner would attempt to steal them. He had always considered buying more to share, but that never really worked out either. While on his way into the office, he had called the bank from his cell to make sure that the two hundred and fifty large was successfully transferred to the account info Devon handed him the previous night. Seemed important to have that taken care of before the rough bounty hunter and his crew woke up that morning. Tuck was in favor of giving them all incentive they needed to get going that morning and the bank confirmed that transfer was completed.


    Tuck took a seat in his office and started to read his mail, and munch on his continental breakfast. While filing through his mail, he noticed something that was rather weird. There was an envelope that had no address written on it. Upon spotting it, Tuck put down his breakfast, and dug into one of his drawers. He put on a pair of latex gloves and handled the letter with absolute care. Tuck slowly used his letter opener and tore one of the sides out with it. There was only one sheet of paper inside and he slowly slid it out of the envelope. Once the two were separated, Tuck grabbed two zip lock bags from another drawer in his desk and immediately put both the envelope and the letter under plastic so that neither would be further contaminated any further than they already were. Only once the two were sealed and secure, Tuck turned the paper over to finally read the contents of the letter:


    TALKING TO Ms. JOHNSON WILL ONLY LEAD TO TROUBLE. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING. WALK AWAY FROM THIS CASE WHILE YOU STILL CAN.


    The letter was hand written, but completely printed in block letters so a hand writing analysis would be pretty much out of the question. Tuck could tell the writer used a standard marker, so that would likely lead nowhere as well. He took another look at the letter, and sat back in his chair. At first Tuck thought someone was watching the building, but it was more likely that Ms. Johnson was being followed to see where she was going, and who she was talking too. Since he and Edgar had the pleasure of her company more than once, it was also likely their building was definitely being watched now. He took a moment to think about it while munching down a croissant, but didn''t finish them as his appetite was ruined for pretty much the rest of the morning. The next person to arrive that morning was Jerome. He came in carrying a tray with three cups of coffee, which was good since Tuck had just finished what was left of his own. He took the cup from Jerome and held up the piece of paper stuffed in the clear bag.


    "Our first threat." he said with a sarcastic smile.


    Jerome took the bag, and read it. He was also surprised, "I have to be honest... this came a little sooner than I thought it would. I bet they''ve been following her to see who she talks to."


    "I''m sure the length of her second visit last night didn''t impress them too much either." Tuck said as he took a sip of the coffee, "Thanks"


    "Call me a lemming, but it''s the best way to start my day." Jerome said as he never took his eyes off the letter, "Did you pull any prints on this?"


    Tuck responded by holding up one of his hands which still had the latex glove on, "Not my first rodeo, kid."


    "Fantastic." Jerome said, "I need a chair, a desk and about two rolls of plastic wrap."


    "You can use my desk, but you''ll have to hit the corner store on the first floor for the wrap." Tuck said as he took another sip of the coffee. It didn''t taste too bad actually.


    Jerome put he letter and his own coffee down and sprinted out the door. He skipped the elevator and bolted down three flights of stairs and out of the door. He scooted over to his small compact and popped the trunk. His forensic kit was in the back, as it had been since he was first put on probation several months ago. Once he had the kit, he moved to the corner store on the first floor and cleaned them out of clear plastic wrap. There as only five small boxes there and hopefully that would be enough. He took the items and his kit back to the third floor and rushed back into tucks office. By this time Edgar was already there, and munching on what was left of Tuck''s breakfast.


    "I need the desk cleared off." Jerome said to no one in particular.


    Tuck did the honor and cleared the desk for him and moved most of his stuff to the top of his filing cabinet for now. Once cleared, Jerome took a basic wooden chair from the lobby. He used the plastic wrap to create and tight seal, using the legs of the chair to create a clear box of plastic that he could use as a mini-incubator. He took the letter out of the zip-lock bag and put it underneath the chair and into this small plastic space. Then he opened up his forensic kit and went to work, putting together a special compound, and putting it into the box as well. Then he took a liquid and put in into the powder in the small cup. Once the two substances made contact, a small vapor started to engulf the small plastic square bubble that Jerome made with the plastic wrap.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "We''ll need to give this about twenty minutes," Jerome added, "We should have some prints in no time."


    "You see," Edgar said with a hint of pride, "I knew he would be handy to have around."


    "I can see that." Tuck said, rather impressed with the young man''s eagerness to find a print.


    Jerome wasn''t just doing this to impress his bosses, but also because it was the first time he was able to do the one thing that he loved doing while he was with the force, that being forensic work. He knew that with Edgar and Tuck, he''d have more freedom to use his stuff and do what he likes rather than what he''s told. He took his coffee back and sat down in another chair and waited as they all did for the paper to reveal some sort of answer. Twenty minutes later, they hit pay dirt. There were several prints on the piece of paper showing up. The vapor has brought them out perfectly.


    Edgar, who now also had gloves, picked it back up and placed it back into the zip lock bag


    "I''ll take this down to the station," Edgar started, "I have a buddy that will run them through the data base. Should be back in a few hours."


    "What are you thinking?" Tuck asked his partner.


    "I''m thinking about that plan of yours," Edgar answered, "It seems to be a little more reasonable than ever."


    "I already made the call, that''s being taken care of." Tuck said in complete agreement, "I''m also going to have one of Devon''s techs sweep the both place for bugs when he gets in so until then, let''s keep things tight-lipped for the time being."


    As if the sound of his name beckoned him to make an appearance, Devon strolled through the front door and into the lobby. He had a smirk on his face about a mile wide which gave Tuck the impression that he checked his bank account the minute he woke up.


    "Gentlemen," the big bounty hunter started, "Since myself and my entire team are now officially on the dime, what would you like us to do first?"


    Tuck didn''t respond, but instead grabbed a notepad from one of the desks, and scribbled something down and then handed it over to Devon for him to read. Devon took the pad and read what Tuck had written:


    We''ve received our first threat. We need your tech guy to sweep the office for possible bugs, until then we should keep business chit chat to a minimum.


    "No problem, mate." Devon said as he handed the pad back to Tuck, "Not a morning person, I see. We''ll start after lunch then."


    "Sure," Tuck said, "Sounds good to me."


    "Edgar," Devon said, turning to face him. "I just wanted to let you know that the fellow you want tracked will be under full surveillance by the end of the week. Is your client all right with that?"


    Edgar smiled as he realized what Devon was up to, "Yeah, seems pretty reasonable to me. The guy isn''t due in court for another three weeks. They just want to make sure he stays in town and makes no attempt to jump bail before the hearing."


    "Alright." he said looking at Tuck this time, "I''ll have the boys get on this right away."


    Tuck nodded to understand what was going on, and the biker quickly walked out of the room back to his team that were likely waiting outside for him. Edgar took the letter after Jerome put it back in a secure bag, and left for the station as he earlier indicated. That left Jerome and Tuck there in the lobby again.


    Tuck looked over at Jerome. "Nice job with that letter. Edgar said something about needing some more advanced equipment. Was it for doing neat stuff like that?"


    "Yeah, it is." Jerome said, "I''ve made up a decent list of things I might need to be more useful around here if you want to check it out."


    Tuck took it and had a quick look. The list was a fair size, but Edgar has asked him to be completely honest with them on what he thought was needed. Perhaps a little too honest, Tuck thought as he noticed there were a few expensive pieces on the list. Yet he also realized that a lot of the equipment Jerome was asking had both brand name and lower brand estimates listed for his discretion.


    "Alright," Tuck said, "I''ll have a look at these and call a few contacts. We might be able to get a few of these cheaper if we work directly with the manufacturer."


    "Thanks." Jerome said with a wide grin. He was pleased to see that he was making a good impression with his new employer. He grabbed his cup of hot java and the sports section as this clearly called for a well-deserved coffee break. Just as he was putting his foot up on one of the desks in the lobby, Tuck stuck his head out the door of his office.


    "The coffee break starts after you clean this stuff off my desk." Tuck said, as he didn''t want to clear the stuff himself.


    "Yes, sir!" Jerome said, as he jumped up and ran into the office to comply with Tuck''s orders. He didn''t want anyone to mess with his kit and stuff anyway.

 Chapter 19

    When things didn''t make sense, Mr. Smith knew the best way to find out what didn''t fit was to keep digging until you found that one piece of information that made everything make complete sense. He knew the answer was just waiting to be found, he just had to do a little digging to find out what it was. To him the current story didn''t make sense. Private investigators don''t turn on a dime for no reason at all. Jessica Johnson didn''t win any lotteries in the last day or two, so what was Edgar Willis'' reason for his sudden change of heart? They were confident that a lack of funds would encourage all the PI''s to turn her away because they didn''t have the manpower or the resources to conduct that kind of search without good financial support. Ms. Johnson still doesn''t have that kind of finances, so what had changed?


    Did Edgar do a little research of his own and become sympathetic to her cause? It''s very possible and wouldn''t be the first time it happened to the program either. Not the kind of PI they want on the case; a believer. Edgar Willis didn''t at first seem to be that kind of guy, so if he''s not a believer and not a member of the good will, then what the hell was driving him to dig into the case and help her out? These were the questions that kept Smith up at night, and determined to find the answer, he called in a few favors to audit a few accounts and find out what or who might be paying for this adventure. Someone had to be paying for it, and if wasn''t Ms. Johnson it had to be someone else because Willis didn''t seem like the kind of guy would eat that kind of bill. His partner Tucker was too frugal to let something like that ruin their already fragile business. The answer was out there and he was determined to make sure this reason wasn''t going to be a serious threat to the program.


    After waiting hours to hear back from someone who owed him a few favors, the email he had been waiting for finally arrived. Mr. Smith eagerly opened the email and started to scan the details he had asked for, which were delivered without a single question. His contacts knew better to ask, and whenever they were in a bind... Smith made sure he did whatever was in his power to return the favor. As he was scanning through the numbers on the email, he came across something that just jumped out at him like a naked guy in a crowd with his hair on fire. These kind of numbers changed everything. It was the reason he had been looking for, and it was disturbingly large number. A number large enough to disturb the boss about it as Smith flipped open his cell phone and immediately contacted his boss.


    "Mr. Carlson," Smith started, "I believe we may have found the reason for Edgar Willis'' sudden urge for charity."


    "I''m listening." the voice on the other end said.


    "Less than 48 hours after Ms. Johnson showed up for her second interview, Willis and Tucker''s firm got a massive payday from a company called Dryden Suppliers. We''re talking high seven figures, very close to becoming eight. This would explain why someone like Edgar Willis would take up a charity case. He and Tuck suddenly have the financial security few PI agencies have to work with."Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "This seems too good to be true," Carlson responded, "Should we knock this sudden payment to coincidence? This is rather opportune for Mr. Willis to get enough money to take on Ms. Johnson''s case mere days after she first arrives."


    Mr. Smith had the same feeling, "Do you want me to trace this company and try to find out who authorized the payment?"


    "Yes," Carlson approved, "But while the size is massive... PI''s have a habit of being paid late by some clients. For all we know this is a back payment for years of work that was never compensated. This kind of payment isn''t uncharacteristic for that particular industry, but this does concern me a little bit."


    "How so, Sir?" Smith asked, somewhat curious.


    "Because this could mean Edgar might have taken the case for personal reasons rather than for money." Carlson paused for a moment, "I want you to search the manifest. Find out if either Mr. Willis or Mr. Tucker has any connections to any of the residents under our care."


    Smith thought that seemed pretty reasonable but it was never something he considered. That''s why the old man gets paid the big bucks, "I''ll get on it immediately. I had their office bugged so we could find out how involved they are with Ms. Johnson."


    "Isn''t that a tad premature?" Carlson said with a somewhat disappointing tone, "When did you have this done?"


    "Well, after Ms. Johnson left last night after her second visit." Smith answered, "I authorized the guy I have watching the building to tap the place. She had been in there for over four hours. The next time she visits I want to know what she''s talking about and what they think about it."


    "Alright," Carlson said, "But try to pass this by me next time."


    "Yes, Sir." Smith said, "I just thought it would be good to know how involved they''re going to be in the case and whether or not they might present a threat to the program."


    "Well, what''s done is done." Carlson said not nitpicking over spit milk, "Just don''t do anything else over there without prior authorization."


    Smith took a deep breathe, "I will Sir, sorry about that."


    "That''s alright... I know your head is in the right place." Carlson said as he tried to be understanding, "We have to be careful because the last thing we want to do is fuel Ms. Johnson''s paranoia, which will in turn fuel Willis and Tucker to keep looking into this. Understood?"


    "Yes Sir, perfectly." Smith said, trying his best to be respectful.


    As he hung up the phone, Smith had decided it was probably best not to mention the letter that that his man left in Tucker''s mailbox. He was pretty sure that the threatening letter might have upset the old man if he had told him. Yet the more Smith thought about it, the more he realized that the old man was right. All that letter might do is legitimize their fears and paranoia about the conspiracy theories and motivate them further. Smith started to regret sending it, but it was done. It couldn''t be taken it back. He started to look for new answers, but his work was quickly interrupted. He got a text message on his cell, and upon reading it he called that person back immediately.


    Something had happened, and Smith had a feeling that he wasn''t going to like it.

 Chapter 20

    Edgar was just getting back from the station when Tuck met him in the hallway outside the lobby. He pushed his partner back a few feet, further away from the door before saying anything. Edgar could tell by how his partner was acting that something was up.


    "What''s going on?" Edgar asked with a bit of an idea what might be the issue since Tuck didn''t want to talk inside.


    "The office is bugged." Tuck said, "This was likely done last night after Jessica''s second visit. This likely means everything we talked about last night was not caught on tape, so they suspect something but have no idea how involved we are just yet."


    "Would explain the letter," Edgar said as he was thinking out loud, "They think we''re very early into the project, so that was the preliminary walk while you still can king of threat. So, what''s the plan?"


    "Do you remember that restaurant three blocks from here you pointed out in the paper?" Tuck said, with a grin on his face, "We managed to get that apartment that is located two floors above it. To make things even harder to trace we got one of Devon''s men to pay for the first three months in cash under one of his many aliases. There is no way they can connect us to this place. You''re going to have to develop a love for Thai food, so they''ll think you''re just going for lunch."


    "I''ll manage," Edgar said, thinking about it.


    "We''ll make that place Jerome''s central headquarters," Tuck continued, "That way I''ll run things from here and make it business as usual. So if happens again, all they''ll hear is normal, run of the mill shit that has nothing to do with Jessica''s case. You and Devon''s team can work out of the other office and kick things into gear. What do you think?"


    "It''s perfect." Edgar responded, fully aware that he was going have to get used to eating there for the next several weeks, "But I think you might want to see what I have here."


    Tuck realized that Edgar had a new envelope in his hand. He took the envelope from his partner and opened it up. It was the results from the finger print search on the prints from that morning''s letter. He kept reading till he hit the big conclusion.


    "Government classified?" Tuck said as he couldn''t believe what he was reading, "Do you know what this means?"


    "Yeah," Edgar said, "It means either the person works for the government or is being held as a witness or suspect by the government. It also means Jerome is going to flip out when he sees this. Where is he?"


    "Shopping." Tuck replied, "I gave him the company credit card and sent him off to gather up all the electronics and furniture he was going to need for the new location. I wouldn''t be surprised if be bought a few cots for the place, as he''s likely going to live this case for the next few months."


    "That wouldn''t surprise me," Edgar agreed, "But that''s the kind of hustle we''re going to need if we want to get this case taken care of as quickly as possible. We might need to keep an eye on Ms. Johnson as well. If they knew she came back to us again last night, they''re likely following her to keep tabs on who she''s talking to. There is a chance we may have to hide her away if they get a little more desperate."Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    "In order words," Tuck started, "We might need more than one cot at the new location?"


    "Relax." Edgar called out, trying to reassure his partner. "Chances are if we find this woman, Norsberg will give us another crap load of money to find his daughter next. This could be more than just a one shot deal, and you know when things start to focus to his daughter, that dollar figure will go through the bloody roof."


    Edgar began salivated at the thought of how much the old fart would be willing to give up for that case. They might need a truck to bring it in.


    "But at what cost?" Tuck said, "I can''t help but think we''re putting ourselves at more risk than anyone else. He paid us through one of his many subsidiary companies to hide his name from the people we could piss off by asking too many questions. We''re the ones with our dicks flapping in the wind and when it hits the fan we''ll be the ones to take the hit."


    Edgar could tell by Tuck''s pacing around the lobby that he was a little uneasy about how things were progressing. Usually Tuck was the one calming other down, but occasionally Edgar had to be the voice of reason. Thankfully those moments were few and far between.


    "I realize this case makes you nervous," Edgar said, trying to be supportive. "That''s why I agreed to break things up. I''ll handle the case and work the operation with Jerome and Devon."


    "Sounds good," Tuck said, "So you''re okay with me, staying here at the office and kind of sit this one out? You know I''m here 90% of the time, so for me to be gone might be too suspicious. I''ll handle the small stuff and do our best to make it look like things are normal as usual."


    "I like it for many reasons," Edgar confessed, "If they think I''m doing this on our own, whoever is watching might think you and the guys are not in on it, and get you out of the line of fire. It will leave the focus on me. It was also my idea to begin with and like Devon, so I''m not going to force anyone to participate if they''re not down with it."


    "Are you sure you''re okay with it?" Tuck asked.


    "I am," Edgar confirmed, "I think you''re right. You being out of here too long will raise a lot of red flags. I''m always out of sight so that will look normal but I''ll make the effort to come in and give an occasional rant and lecture as usual, dis new clients and such."


    "Then it''s settled," Tuck said, slightly relieved. "Get your ass down to the new location so you''ll have your own spot staked out before Jerome breaks out the fine china. And for the love of Pete, be careful."


    "I will pops." Edgar answered with a large amount of sarcasm, "You''d think I never did something like this before. Devon and I have been through worse and you know it."


    "Is that why you picked him out of all the bounty hunters we have worked with?" Tuck said, even though he already knew the answer.


    Edgar didn''t answer the question and he didn''t have to. Tuck walked back into the lobby and talking to a few people about the normal cases and to get their asses back to work. That was all the people listening were going to hear over the next few weeks and with Edgar''s history for being distracted for non-business needs, it was going to be easy to explain his long absences. Edgar spotted Devon inside and he waved to the bounty hunter, asking him to come out to the hall. As Devon walked closer, Edgar gave him a grin.


    "What is it?" Devon asked, not sure what the grin meant.


    "Do you like Thai food?" Edgar asked.

 Chapter 21

    Jerome had been at the new location for a few hours, and he watched with delight as one company after another arrived to deliver furniture and electronics for the new place. As he was settling in, he could quickly tell there were a lot of things about it he didn''t like about the place. First off, he wasn''t a fan of Thai food, but it was a small detail since there was a decent pizza joint just around the corner. Over the last couple of hours, Jerome purchased a lot of computer equipment and was in the process of setting up what he thought was going to be a very impressive command post. He didn''t spend too much and thought for the amount of dough that he did spend, the guys were going to get their money''s worth and then some. Jerome also picked up some office stuff and even a bit of furniture so the place wouldn''t be so formal. With a restaurant downstairs, there was no need to worry about food or drink even though Jerome would often consider going elsewhere for something to eat. He had taken two members of Devon''s team with him to hunt for the equipment they needed to conduct their case. One member who looked like a Goth reject was Pearl, but she preferred to be called by her Goth name: Moth. Jerome didn''t like the name much, but since he was going to be working with the pale skinned techie for a while, he would have to get used to it. Her black hair and white skin made her look a little creepy, almost as bad as her Avril wannabe wardrobe. Jerome snuck a quick peek at her and realized that if she laid off on all the Goth stuff, she wouldn''t look half bad. Just then Moth shot an ugly stare his way, and Jerome went back to work, uploading software to his new, badass command center that would be the nerve center of their information collection. As he was working on the computers, Moth seemed it necessary to share some information with him.


    "I can''t stand Thai food." she sneered without looking at back at him.


    "That makes two of us." Jerome responded, also avoiding eye contact. "So you have at least I have one person to split the bill with for some non-Thai take out."


    "Don''t count on it, nerd." Moth snapped back, her voice cracking against his skill like a verbal whip.


    This was going to be fun, Jerome thought to himself as he kept working on the computers. He was hoping that eventually this Moth would turn around and not be such a bitch as the case goes on. Devon must have her on board for some reason or another, and Jerome hoped it was being good at whatever the hell she does. Edgar and Devon came strolling into the apartment a few hours later after most of the stuff was delivered and put into their place. They began to look around and seemed all right with the set up that was in there so far. The apartment only had two bedrooms and a small kitchen, but it was the grand sized living room that allowed Jerome to set up shop rather handily. Edgar seemed impressed with what he saw.


    "Didn''t break the bank here, did you sport?" Edgar joked, but deep down he knew that Jerome probably spent a few bucks for some of that stuff. He was hoping the stuff would help out and make things easier for them.


    While Edgar was more of an old fashioned PI, where the grunt work and smarts usually is all you needed to break the case. Yet he wasn''t afraid of technology and most of the time the computer geeks were always a good source of information. This is why thinkers like Edgar were still able to make a decent living. Technology is great, but there is only so much it could do, and the same went for Devon. People like him were always going to be needed because technology could only find someone, dragging them back to the station or to the bondman was something only people of Devon''s precise talent could accomplish. As he walked into the room, he greeted Moth with a smile and made sure she was doing all right. Turns out the two knew each other real well, but no one was going to question that at the moment.


    Jerome managed to crack an innocent smile, "I''ll be honest with you boss. This stuff doesn''t come cheap, but I swear this stuff is going to pay itself off not only with this case but with many cases in the future."


    Edgar wasn''t always sure about stuff like this, but since he technically wasn''t paying the tab it didn''t bother him as much as it normally would, "Don''t worry about it, brain boy. All I want you to tell me is that you have a plan to find this woman."


    "As a matter of fact, I do." Jerome said without taking his eyes off the machine as he was programming, "I thought about it while doing my shopping this morning and it just hit me."


    "Well, then." Devon said, "Get on with it!"


    "Do you remember when we were questioning Jessica about her mother she mentioned something about her addiction to shopping?" Jerome started, "I mean she wasn''t extravagant or anything, but she did her fair share volume wise. This is something we could take advantage of and exploit without anyone detecting it."


    "This is interesting." Devon said as he seemed to be paying attention, "How to you intend to get her attention?"


    "Well I doubt the government would want her to be visiting too many shopping malls, especially if there is a chance they could video tape her making purchases in many big stores these days. So if she can''t go to a store in person without exposing herself to gaud knows what, the best place for her to do her shopping is through..."


    "The internet." Edgar finished for him, "This is perfect, but I''m still at a loss. What site do you think would draw her in the quickest?"


    "Well, I remember Jessica mentioned something about her jewelry." Jerome said as he finally turned to face Edgar and Devon, "Most of the stuff she collected was cheap and not that expensive, but today they''re collector''s pieces and extremely hard to find."


    "So, what''s your point?" Moth said rather impatient.


    "We sell her stuff," Jerome suggested, "Not just the same brand, but her exact stuff. Jessica is the only woman in her family after her mom allegedly passed on, so chances are she owns her Mom''s entire collection."Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "That''s not bad," Devon admitted, "I don''t know about you but if I saw my kid hawking my stuff, that would totally piss me off."


    "Exactly," Jerome said, "Not only should we put her exact stuff on sale, we put up the stuff the means the most to her. I''m talking about family heirlooms and other unique stuff that can''t be replaced. We should even get Jessica to post it with a picture of her holding the stuff so she''ll know it''s her stuff. Once we have everything we need, we can put it online for auction."


    "How will we know where to sell it?" Edgar asked. "In case you didn''t notice, the internet is rather gargantuan in size."


    "There are a few sites we could hit up," Jerome answered, "But Jessica did say that had a specific internet auction site she liked to use.


    "Odds are they''d let her use a big name site," Moth added, "Harder to track they suppose."


    "When we post something online," Jerome continued, "We''ll be able to watch the bidding and should be able to tell who is bidding based on their aggression for the item. If her mom finds this stuff on sale, she''ll bid big and bid often. Once we find someone who is bidding as if the stuff were theirs, we let her win the auction and use her IP address to trace her payment information to find her location."


    "Damn, that''s bloody brilliant." Devon said, as he cracked a massive grin. "If she wins the auction, she''ll also have to give us an address for delivery. Even if it''s a P.O. Box, we''d still be able to stake it out and follow whoever collects it. If she''s dumb enough to give us an exact address, I''ve still got a UPS outfit and a truck we can paint to make it believable enough to cut the mustard. We could go right to her door and deliver the item and make a positive ID. My gaud, this could actually work!"


    "The cool part is I think Jessica''s mom has a huge stash." Jerome added, "We could post a few items up, and on various websites to spread out our reach when trying to find what auction site she uses."


    Jerome sat there with a huge smile on his face, hoping this would be what he needed to be in Edgar''s good books for a while despite the massive purchases he just made.


    "In other words we have a lot of bait." Edgar acknowledged as he too was smiling from ear to ear, "This is a great plan and even if we do get a few false alarms, this is a good way to get a location without the man suspecting a single thing. I love it!"


    Edgar he patted Jerome on the shoulder and was very proud of his pick. Tuck was going to love having that brain around to help out. He also liked the fact that Devon was already on a plan to make contact after the purchase.


    "So you really like this idea?" Edgar asked, looking over at Devon.


    "It''s good." Devon said as he turned away from talking to Moth, "There''s very little risk from being caught by whoever left that note at the office. Chances are they''re watching her because of what happened at the Vigil. If anything, she''s likely on house arrest and not allowed to go out. That will in turn increase her dependence on the internet to buy everything, even her bloody groceries."


    "I never thought of that." Jerome confessed as he jumped in again, "If we can get her to pay for the thing via an online bank, we can use the account to trace her purchases. If the person who bought our item makes a lot of home purchases for everything, such as groceries as Devon said that would narrow our search a lot faster."


    Edgar could see where they were going with this, "I can use my contacts at the station to look up the..."


    "No," Jerome said as he help up a hand to stop him, "Any kind of legal trace through the cops would red flag the bad guys."


    "He''s right Edgar." Devon concurred, "If we want to look at stuff, the best way to do it is by hacking into the database. That way we can look at the information we need without being tracked or traced."


    "And how do you plan to do that?" Jerome asked, somewhat curious.


    "That would be my job brain boy." Moth responded, as she was setting up a computer station of her own on the other side of the room, opposite of where Jerome was marking his territory.


    Devon walked up to Edgar and took him aside, "Edgar, I wouldn''t be surprised if that print you ran earlier today sent them one already. I didn''t think of that myself until it was too late. If this is a government agency or even a kind of black ops like operation we''re dealing with here, they likely have their ear to all local checks. We both know how they work."


    Edgar knew exactly what Devon was talking about and he had to agree. Even he had forgot about the protocol, as he was so eager to get the prints scanned that it never dawned on him.


    "Fucking hell!" Edgar yelled as he slammed the bottom of a closed fist into the desk beside him.


    He was reckless and he knew it. This print was huge, and would clearly be a massive red alert to anyone who was watching for stuff like this. It would tip them off that they had half a brain and were on to them. Everyone in the room remained dead quiet and didn''t dare say a word to Edgar who was visibly upset with good reason to be. He huffed for a few seconds and looked back to Devon who didn''t feel to well about it either. He should have known better and he didn''t think of it quick enough to tell Edgar before he did something stupid. They all felt bad about what had happened but at the moment they needed to build a bridge and get over it.


    Edgar took a deep breathe. "It doesn''t change the fact that we are at a secret location, and we seem to have a decent plan that has a very good chance of bringing home the bacon. Devon and I will work out this mess later. I want you two to put up Mrs. Johnson''s junk up for auction and draw her mother out. Until we do that, we don''t have anything to work with."


    At that moment, there was a loud wailing of sirens in the background. Edgar and Devon both bolted to the large windows at the end of the living room and threw the drapes open. In the distance, behind a small mess of buildings, was a blaze. A huge one. They couldn''t tell what building was on fire, but it was a towering inferno, the kind you only thought you would see in the movies. There was a red glow coming out from behind the buildings that was blocking their view and even though it was night the glow was making some of the smoke clearly visible.


    It was at this point where Edgar''s pager went off.


    Edgar looked over to Devon who seemed for the first time in his life to be speechless. The detective picked up the pager and read the message. His eyes grew wide with surprise and Jerome couldn''t believe what he was seeing. In all his time at the station, he never saw anyone there who had any history like Edgar turn that shade of pale literally in seconds. Edgar handed the pager over to Devon, and then bolted for the door and down the stairs. After looking at the pager, Devon looked at the pager and his face had a similar expression.


    "Bloody hell!" he screamed to no one in particular as he dropped the pager and ran after Edgar, eager to follow him to wherever he was going.


    Jerome was afraid to touch the pager, but Moth didn''t seem to have a problem with it as she wanted to know what was going on. She picked it up and looked right into the screen to read the message.


    "Oh my God." She said and a tear started to run down her cheek, black from the makeup around her eyes.


    Jerome finally walked over and had a look at the message. The message only contained three numbers, but even that was enough to send a chill down his spine: 911.

 Chapter 22

    Edgar had driven back to his office as close as he could, but the closer he got to the building the more gridlocked traffic became. When things had just gotten too slow, Edgar pulled over and ran the rest of the way. Devon hopped out and followed Edgar, as both men hauled ass to where the commotion was. They both stopped on a dime and looked up in horror as what they most feared had become a horrific reality. Edgar couldn''t believe what he was watching as the building he had worked in for the last eight years was ablaze and burning with a hot intensity. It looked like every floor in the building was engulfed in flame, to the point where firefighters were not even trying to get in there.


    Edgar tried to go across the street, eager to go in and look for his people. Devon knew better and grabbed his friend from behind. The big biker dragged Edgar back and pinned him up against the wall of the building across the street from the raging fire.


    "What the hell are you doing?" Edgar yelled as he tried to fight free.


    "Saving your life, mate." Devon said as he refused to let go, "There are fully equipped professionals there, with oxygen and protective gear. If they can get in there and save our people, they will. Don''t forget; I''ve got people in there too, but running in there right now is suicide and you know it!"


    "But what...'''' Edgar couldn''t'' say it, just the thought of everyone perishing in the fire was more than he could take.


    "There are more than a few fire escapes." Devon reminded him, "Let''s hope Tuck and the boys managed to get to one before things got really bad."


    Devon was he was holding out hope for the half dozen members of his own team that were still up there as well. Half of Devon''s crew were going to spend the whole day and night scanning every part of that office for more bugs. As much as Devon couldn''t handle the idea of losing any of his team as well, going in there was out of the question. The fire was too hot and just raging to the point where it was even too dangerous for the pros. Devon loosened his grip as he could tell Edgar was finally on the same page.


    "Let''s look around to see if anyone got out." He whispered, "There''s no need to hit the panic button without any proof to do so."


    Edgar nodded, "Alright, let''s look around and see if we can find someone who looks familiar. Hopefully Tuck got everyone got out before it was too late."


    "Alright," Devon concurred, "You take the right side where those ambulances are. I know the fire captain over there and I''ll pump him for information."


    The two men split up, Edgar raced over to the ambulances to see if anyone pulled out looked like one of his people. There were a lot of people from other floors. Most of them had black faces from the smoke, and where on oxygen to help clear their lungs. Most of them were a real mess, but seemed thankful to be out and alive. The building was a towering fireball, and every survivor looked up in amazement as they breathed in the pure oxygen and watched as their offices and work places go up in smoke. Edgar kept looking around, but could find no one from his office in the large crowd of people who got out. The more he looked around, the more concerned he became and couldn''t help but think the worst. After looking around for around twenty minutes, he ran back to Devon who too wasn''t looking around and talking to a few cops instead. He didn''t look to happy as well when Edgar approached him.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "What have you got?" Edgar asked eager to get just a shred of good news. Anything would be better than nothing at this point and he needed something to get through this.


    "I got nothing," Devon said someone upset himself, "They''re saying there''s no one from the third floor down here. People from the fourth floor up to the seventh are hard to come by as well. Many managed to get out through the fire escape but those who couldn''t make it to the outside stairs seemed to have not been able to get out. You know what this means?" Devon asked, but he knew Edgar was fully aware of what was going on.


    "Yeah." Edgar quickly answered, "It means the fire started on the third floor. There no other offices on that floor, we were the only occupant and we took up almost half that floor." he looked back to the blazing building, "If the fire spread quickly, that would suggest some kind of accelerant."


    "Son-of-a-bitch." Devon cursed to himself as he knew where Edgar was going with this, "I had half a dozen people in there working with Tuck. Do you know how long I''ve been working with those people?" he paused for a moment when he suddenly thought of Tuck and how long he and Edgar has been together going back to their first meeting on the force, "Sorry, mate. I know how much you guys meant to each other. We have to hope he made it out. After all, he did page you. Didn''t he?"


    "I''m not sure." Edgar said as he looked around for the pager, but it wasn''t there, "Did you remember looking at the number that left the page?"


    "No, the message kind of distracted me." Devon said as he tried to figure it out himself. "What are you thinking?"


    "Think about what you just said." Edgar started, "You''ve been distracted since you read that message. That''s the point of sending us this message, to distract us and keep us off our game. Someone sent us here hoping we''d waste a lot of time looking around for our people like wild chickens with our heads cut off. We''ve got to leave, now."


    "Where the bloody hell do you want to go at this time?" Devon said, somewhat distracted by the towering inferno behind him.


    Edgar looked back at him with a face of pure rage, "We need to get to Jessica as soon as possible. I have a feeling someone is going to use this distraction to make our only lead disappear."


    Devon seemed to be on the same page now as he pulled a 9mm automatic from his coat. He checked to make sure it was loaded and then quickly holstered it. He then looked back to Edgar. "I''m game. Just to let you know, I''m in the mood to break a few bones right about now. So let''s go have a chat with the bastards who started this shit."


    "Amen to that brother." Edgar said as the two men started to run back to his car as fast as they possibly could. For the first time in a very, very long time the two men were on the same page, ready to fight a common enemy and not in the mood to take any prisoners.

 Chapter 23

    Jessica was walking home after getting off the bus a few blocks from where she usually got off. It was a clear night and she needed to pick up a few groceries so she thought it would be all right to walk back a few blocks in order to pick up something half decent to eat. She was late getting off work as well because she had a long call come in at the very last minute that lasted almost an hour. Some moron couldn''t understand the simple things about the product and was too slow to get what she was trying to say. She hated ending her days like that because it made her late to catch her usual pickup at the bus stop and she had to wait another hour for the next to arrive. After picking up something nice to nuke and eat that night, she started the short stroll home. It was a nice night, but she didn''t seem to care as she quickly walked the distance, keeping to herself and knowing how to avoid the peddlers on the roads and certain alleys that are usually trouble. She knew her city and that was enough for her. Even though she didn''t live in the best part of town, it was still ten times better than living with her father who would barely every acknowledge her existence.


    As she was walking down the street, she could have swore she saw something, but ignored it and kept moving on. She was about a block or two away from her building when something happened. She didn''t see it coming because the person that grabbed her was just walking casually in the other direction. The man took her by the shoulders with one arm and then gagged her mouth with the other and quickly dragged her into the alley way that was right beside them. Her attack timed their passing intentionally so that it would be there for them to slip into with out any detection. She kicked and tried to wail and even bite the hand that held her, but he was strong and wouldn''t let go. They were half way down the alley and she bit into the attackers hand so hard that she could taste the blood running into her mouth, and he finally let go of her mouth.


    Before she could let out a single sound from her freed mouth, another hand quickly replaced it and covered her up again. She took one look at the person in front her and then quickly went limp and gave up. Edgar was standing right in front of her and looked really tuckered out. Once she realized who had grabbed her, she had stopped fighting and finally Devon let go of her but not before whimpering over his hand.


    "Bloody hell," Devon cussed, "Couldn''t you ease up on the chompers a little there, love?"


    "Sorry." She huffed as she wiped his blood from her lip, "You guys really scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing here?"


    "We''re here to prevent you from joining your mother." Edgar said, and she could tell he was dead serious. She had never seen anyone so upset and yet so focused as the same time. He looked whipped but eager to keep going, "We''ve had an event tonight that gave us the impression that you might not be safe staying at home tonight."


    "What kind of event?" Jessica asked, somewhat concerned. She knew there would be a little danger, but still didn''t think the response would be so quick. She was genuinely scared based on how long it too the men to reply.


    "We''d rather not say." Edgar answered, not in a very talkative mood.


    "You''ll find out soon enough." Devon added, "But for now you need to get the hell out of here. We think someone is watching your place and ready to do the same song and dance we just beat them to."


    "Where should I go?" Jessica inquired, somewhat confused.


    "With us, we''re all getting the hell out of here." Edgar said as he grabbed her by the arm and started to lead her down the alley.


    Devon didn''t seem pleased with this response, "But what about the people waiting at her place? They''re not going wait there forever!"


    "Yes, they will." Edgar said as he looked back, "They''ll be there with the hopes that Jessica will eventually return. We need to get her back to the new location and make sure she''s safe. Right now this has got to be our top priority. We can go back and look for those bastards later." Edgar grabbed Devon by the arm and looked him dead in the eyes, "I need you to watch my back, right here and right now."If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Devon was already incensed and ready to kick someone''s ass. Jessica could tell by the flushed face he had that something had seriously set him off. Devon paused for a few moments and finally good judgment got the best of him, "Alright, let''s go. But if we get our hands on one of the slimy bastards, I want the first crack."


    "Sounds all right to me." Edgar conceded as he needed to focus on the game at hand, they could fight about small stuff like that later.


    Jessica was getting rather frightened by the way the two men had been talking to one another and needed to know what was going on.


    "Are you going to take me back to the office?" she asked trying to pry as much information from them as she could.


    "Not exactly." Edgar said, as he led her back to his car that was waiting for them at the end of the alley. As Jessica was stepping into the car, someone came into the alley and started to walk towards them. Edgar was already in the car and Devon was walking around to the other side. When the man finally noticed who was in the back seat, he started to pick up the pace. He was wearing a black suit and started to run towards them.


    "Hey, you!" he called out to Edgar and Devon, "What are you doing down here?" the man''s accusations sounded very formal, like an police officer would when questioning something suspicious.


    Devon wasn''t exactly in the mood for pleasantries as he pulled out his 9mm and didn''t even hesitate to pull the trigger. He fired multiple rounds into the alley, and the booming sound from his weapon gave more than enough warning to the man in the alley as he safely ducked for cover. Devon had a look of genuine anger and disgust on his face as he emptied the clip into the alley. He quickly replaced the clip, holstered his gun, and then quickly jumped into the vehicle. Edgar kicked the car into high gear and sped off. Jessica was crouched in the back and hiding, scared of what just happened. Half way back to their place of destination, Devon looked over the backseat and down to her.


    "Relax, love." Devon said, "I didn''t hit him."


    "If he had," Edgar said as he jumped in, "It would have only required one shot. He fired those shots so that by the time he got to the end of the alley, we''d be too far away to take a shot at." He looked back to Devon. "A good thing you didn''t hit him. He could have been a cop, you know."


    "Wearing a black suit in the middle of the night and not even willing to flash a badge? I think not my friend." Devon said, rather confident in himself. "That bastard had bad news written all over him. The only reason why I didn''t stay to take him prisoner was the fact that there was likely more of them around. And you''re right, we need to get her away from there and by firing at him, it gave us the time we needed to get out of the alley."


    "Still felt good to shoot at him, didn''t it?" Edgar asked.


    "Yeah, it did." Devon agreed, as he was somewhat relaxed.


    "I appreciate your restraint," Edgar said as he kept driving, but didn''t break any traffic laws. The key was to get there safely, not recklessly which would make them easier to notice, "If that was a cop, we''ll know soon enough. He''ll report the shooting."


    "Exactly." Devon agreed, "If no report is filed, then we''ll know for sure if he was one of them.


    "One of whom?" Jessica asked, angry for being out of the loop. The two men ignored her as they kept talking.


    "I also sent a message to those wormy bastards." Devon said as he seemed proud of his work in the alley, "The next time one of them approaches me, they''ll do it with a bit of caution. That hesitation will be to our advantage."


    This wasn''t making Jessica feel any better, and she needed to know what was going on. She started to feel bad as well because all of this was her fault. If someone got hurt or worse, it would all be because she felt the need to search for the truth. Was it worth all this violence? She didn''t know, but if someone was after her, it might be too late to reconsider. As the two men drove back to the new location, neither said a word to one another and that spoke volumes to her. Something had happened that night, and whatever it was it was serious enough for them to come running after her and for Devon to shoot as someone walking down an alley towards them. This scared her a great deal, but knew that eventually someone would tell her what was going one. She was hoping that someone like Tuck or Jerome would fill in the blanks for her when they eventually got to wherever they were going. Until then she would have to stay covered on the seat until they got to where they were going. After the hail of bullets, she didn''t want to sit up and felt safe laying on the back seat until they reached their destination.

 Chapter 24

    The next morning, things seemed rather normal as Mr. Smith walked into headquarters, but the moment he was inside the place was anything but normal. He stood there with a coffee in one hand and a bag of donuts in the other and watched as the place was buzzing louder than it ever had before. He strolled into his office and sitting in his chair waiting for him was Mr. Carlson. The look on his boss'' face more than told the tale of what might have been going on. The last time he saw that look on Mr. Carlson''s face someone had tried to escape and almost made it. He was hoping this wasn''t the case but walked in and tried to be pleasant.


    "Is everything all right, Sir?" he asked quietly, knowing the obvious answer was no.


    "Where the hell have you been?" Carl asked with a rather harsh tone, "We''ve been paging you for the last two hours, and you''re late for your regular shift."


    "It''s Wednesday, Sir." Smith answered trying to be respectfully, "I''m always in late on Wednesday because I meet my trainer at 9am at the gym for a personal workout."


    "Well, while you were working out and fetching coffee... everything hit the fan and we''re on high alert." Carlson said as he slapped a newspaper down on the table. On the front page was the story about the inferno that had destroyed the building where Willis and Tuck''s agency used to reside. As he read it, Carlson filled in some quick blanks, "What is left of that building used to be the private investigation agency of one Willis and Tucker. Now it''s burned out completely with numerous casualties, and since then things have pretty much gone downhill."


    "How so?" Smith asked, again not trying to be rude, "I mean with Tucker and Willis out of the way, there would be no investigation and the program is safer with them out of the way."


    "That''s the problem. While there is no sign of Tucker and many members of his staff, Willis wasn''t in the building." Carlson said, watching his man for any indications of surprise.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Smith bit but not the way his boss expected, "How were you able to confirm this?" he asked curious to hear the details.


    "One of our men spotted him less than a block away from Jessica Johnson''s apartment building. This was less than a few hours after the fire started. He was taking her away in a car when our man approached. That''s when things went sideways. One of Mr. Willis'' men pulled a gun and open fired on or man."


    This is when Smith became genuinely surprised, "He fired on one ofour men?" he repeated.


    "Yes," Carlson confirmed, "Fired, as in he shot several times in his general direction before getting into the car and making his escape."


    Smith could hardly believe what he was hearing, "Why would they fire on our men like that so recklessly?"


    "It''s obvious Mr. Willis and his men believe we started the fire at their building." Carlson answered, "So basically any man in a black suit that approaches them is going to be considered a potential threat and therefore is going to be shot at!"


    Carlson seemed genuinely pissed off, but took a deep breathe and continued, "Right now, your top priority is to look into this fire and find out what the hell happened. I want to know the cause of this combustion and what made it move so quickly through the damn building."


    "But what about the Johnson case?" Smith asked somewhat confused.


    "This is a part of the Johnson case until told otherwise." Carlson said somewhat angered by the mere suggestion that it was not, "I''ll have someone watch the day to day stuff over her while you look into this for me. I need an answer as soon as possible. That''s why I''m putting you on the job."


    "Thank you, Sir." Smith said, aware of what he was being told to do, "I''ll find the answers to this as soon as possible."


    Smith then watched as his boss nodded and then stormed out of the room and was gone. Smith put down his coffee and donuts and took a seat to settle down for a moment. He would have to contact his people with the police and fire department to get the 411 on what happened over there. He''d get an exact body count and the names of any identified bodies, and then go from there. He knew Willis would be pissed off if something like this happened, but to shoot at them? That seemed so uncharacteristic of him. Smith figured they might have to sit back and see what the man did next, but until then he had to do his own work to avoid suspicion.

 Chapter 25

    Back at the new location, things were just a little intense. Edgar was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, speaking to no one and thinking to himself. Jerome tried to get him a cup of coffee from the really nice coffee maker he bought with the rest of the equipment, but he wasn''t responding to anyone at that point. It had been over twelve hours since the fire and no one from the office had called back. There had been no phone calls, pages or even a word from the station to let them know that a body had been found. Edgar would have to visit the cop shop later on to find out for himself.


    Devon was on the roof of the building having a ton of smokes and needing a moment alone to go over a few things. Moth had mentioned to Jerome that she had never seen either of them as angry as they were at this point, and the loss of so many associates had never been seen before from both sides. She lost a few friends that night as did Edgar who seemed lost without Tuck there to pat him on the back and get him back to work. The room was very subdued and no one seemed ready to get to work, and Jessica couldn''t blame them at all. She slept that night on the new couch that Jerome had been eager to test out himself that night, but was overruled by Edgar.


    Jessica cried when she heard about the fire, and felt so bad about what had happened. Jerome made her feel better by letting her know that the official cause hadn''t been determined and for all they knew it could have easily been anything bad wiring or a stray cigarette instead of fowl play. Even though Edgar and Devon seemed to have their doubts, Jerome was hoping that it wasn''t half as bad as the two professionals seemed to think it was. They were in the rabbit hole and they were deep enough to land themselves in trouble. Once you''re down there, you can''t come back out. Jerome was fully aware of this and that scared the complete crap out of him. He turned back to Edgar, eager to ask a few questions.


    "Edgar," Jerome called out. "How did you and Tuck pay for this place?"


    Edgar finally snapped out of his daze and looked back to who was now his only employee, "We''re fine here. It was paid for in cash under a false name. It''s going to take a while for them to figure out this place, if they can at all. We also have off shore accounts that are listed through companies that we have zero connection to that we can use to get our money from here on." this comment seemed to get a response from the few people in the room. Moth seemed a little stunned, but Jessica was the one who seemed to have the strongest reaction of the three.


    "What do you mean?" Jessica suddenly asked, "Isn''t this enough to make you want to back off?"


    "I hate to break this to you," Edgar responded in his usual sarcastic smart ass tone, "But as of today, you''re the only client I have left. Even if I called everyone else who I was working for right now, chances are they would refuse to work with me out of some fear they''d burn down next. It''s a stupid, over-enthusiastic way to look at it but I''m sure that''s what they''re all thinking right now. What the hell did Tuck and Edgar do to piss someone off that much?"


    "I''m not sure of the answer myself, mate." Devon said as he finally came back from the roof, "but I wouldn''t mind asking the bloke who did it a few questions about that myself."


    "Join the club." Edgar responding, his humor as dry as ever, "Are you still in this?" he asked both Moth and Devon.


    "You bet I am." Devon answered as he looked over to Moth, who gave a nod to show her own approval, "We lost a few mates up there in that blaze too. And the last time I checked, I have a no refund policy. I got your money and I intend to earn every friggin'' penny of it. So if you all don''t mind, I wouldn''t mind getting back to work."


    Jessica couldn''t believe what she was hearing, but started off for them, "I was talking to Jerome about my mother''s heirlooms. He''s right about one thing: if she were to see them online and knew they were hers, she would spend anything to get them back. I know exactly what items we should post to get her attention and where to post them."


    Edgar turned to look back to his only client, "Now that is something I badly wanted to hear. Do you have a picture of the item in question, or access to the item so we can take new pictures of it?"


    "All the heirlooms are at home, in my father''s private vault." Jessica said, knowing this wasn''t want they wanted to hear, "But until we get what you''re looking for, I have some pictures from my graduation that I am sure will do the trick. I wore my grandma''s necklace when I attended the ceremony. If you post a picture of me that day wearing it, she''ll know it''s hers and bid like crazy."


    Jessica walked over to Jerome''s computer and typed a website address into the browser. It loaded up a dozen pictures from her college graduation, and there she was wearing the necklace that they needed to put up for auction.


    "This is perfect. It will do for now." Jerome said as he downloaded the pictures and blew them up. "I can post both the full picture of Jessica wearing it, plus a close up of the necklace itself that way they''ll be no doubt what it is. I''ll work with Jessica and she can give me a history of the item in question and have this baby online within a few hours. We can use this information to our advantage. We can type in a specific way that will appeal to her and let her know that it''s hers. Then all we have to do is sit back and wait for our fish to bite. I''ll make it a two day auction, that way we''ll force the bids to come in fast and furious with a quick auction. We''ll observe who bids rather furiously and investigate them. If we don''t find anyone familiar to Jessica, we can always repost and try again."This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Get on it then," Edgar said as he stood up to leave, "I''ve got to make some phone calls."


    Edgar left the room and proceeded to head for the roof himself. But instead of walking out and lounging on the roof, he stooped at the doorway and never left the staircase. He sat there and dialed a number of a friend who he knew would have the information he needed.


    It took a few rings before someone eventually picked up the line "Office of the Fire Chief."


    "Yes, hello." Edgar said, trying to be polite, "I need to speak with deputy chief Rodney Jackson, please."


    "Can I ask who''s speaking?" the voice quickly asked.


    "Yes, tell him it''s his brother Allan on the phone and that it''s urgent that I speak with him." Edgar waited as he was put on hold.


    "Allan, what the hell do you want?" an annoyed voice suddenly asked. Edgar knew that his brother called in a lot and always said it was urgent.


    "Sorry to fool you Rod," Edgar apologized, "But this was important. It''s Edgar Willis."


    "Jesus, Edgar!" the voice on the other end said with a sense of shock, "Why didn''t you call earlier? We''re still combing through the rubble looking for your body!"


    "Well, I''m calling now." Edgar responded, somewhat touched by his friend''s genuine concern for his well-being, "I want to know what you guys found out concerning this fire. I was out having supper when the fire broke out and got back too late."


    "It''s not pretty, Edgar." Rod confessed rather quickly, "We''ve pulled at least a dozen bodies out of your office so far. We''ve managed to identify a few of them by dental records so far."


    "Is Tuck one of them?" Edgar asked, hoping for the best.


    "I''m sorry, Edgar." Rod responded, trying to sound as sympathetic as he possibly could, "We found him in his office. Everyone was pretty much at their desks, which is what red flagged the boys in blue."


    "Keep going." Edgar said with an idea of what he meant but needed to hear it from Rod, "Tell me everything, I need to know."


    "They were dead before the fire started." Rod replied as he held nothing back, "Someone or likely some people killed them all and then set the fire intentionally. I''m still waiting for lab results, but I''m willing to bet my life savings that gasoline was the accelerant. My nose is rarely wrong. I''m so sorry Edgar, but if I didn''t know better this looks like a mob hit. Everyone was killed at their desk and the place was set a blaze. What kind of people have you been working with lately?"


    "I''m not sure anymore." Edgar confessed but held back because his only lead was in the apartment below, helping Jerome post pictures online, "I''ll go through the files we have electronically filed online and hand them all over to the boys, and I''ll also give them my alibi. I was eating and the manager can vouch for me. I know that''s what you were thinking."


    "I''m paid to think about every possible angle, Edgar." Rod answered trying not to sound mean, "You know we all get paid to think that way about everyone, no matter who it is."


    "Well, if you genuinely thought it was me, you wouldn''t be telling me any of this stuff." Edgar confessed, knowing that much, "And I thank you for filling in the blanks for me. You have no idea how much I appreciate that."


    "You be careful Edgar." Rod said rather concerned, "If these people took out Tuck and the others this brutally, you might want to lay low till the boys find out who did this and bring them in."


    "Thanks, I''ll take that into consideration. Bye." Edgar closed the cell up stood there at the top of the stairs, fully aware that the worst case scenario was suddenly becoming his worst nightmare come true. He looked down, and Devon was just half a dozen stairs below him, looking up and had likely watched and listened to him talk to Rod about what happened. Edgar knew this was likely the best time to tell him.


    "Tell me," Devon said, knowing Edgar had the truth.


    "They were dead before the fire started." Edgar said, holding nothing back. He looked back down at Devon and could see the anger in his face, much worse than it had been last night. The big biker walked up to the top of the stairs and looked back to Edgar as he reached the top.


    "We''re going to find these bastards," Devon started, "And when we do, I''ll get them to spill their guts about everything. We''ll have all the information we need to expose everything and yank their pants down in front of the entire world and expose all of their secrets to the fucking world."


    For some reason, Edgar felt rather comfortable with the idea.


    "As long as we find the people they''re trying to hide and bring them home, I''m all for it." Edgar said, as he stepped back to give Devon some space in the stairwell. The news of his people being murdered before the fire started was enough for him to want to light up again.


    Devon was puffing before he reached the middle of the roof, "I''m not just doing this for the money anymore. Now it''s personal."


    "No shit, Sherlock." Edgar said, "But keep going, let it out."


    "I was ready to laugh this case off and just fart around," Devon continued, "Do just enough to earn the money you gave me. I would have done a half-assed job happily just to screw you and Tuck over after what happened last time."


    "Okay," Edgar replied, "Some could argue that we might deserve that."


    "Well, I''m over it." Devon chided back, "Now I have a new enemy to spew my venom at. I''m ready to kill every one of them till there''s no one left. Rip their enterprise down. Strip the walls right down to the studs."


    "Sounds good to me," Edgar admitted.


    "You have a plan, don''t you?" Devon asked, "I mean beyond the one brain boy downstairs come up with."


    "I might," Edgar confessed.


    Devon tossed his smoke away and walked closer to speak to Edgar about this, "Come on, mate. I know how they work too, and we can use this information and training to our advantage. Let''s take it to those bums."


    "Alright," Edgar said, "Let''s take the fight to them."

 Chapter 26

    Mrs. Johnson had been online all day and while she had a seemingly unlimited budget to work with, she was the kind of person who refused to spend just for the sake of spending. She was careful because she always knew who was really paying the tab, and the idea of mooching off the people sometimes upset her to no end. She had already ordered her groceries online and was going to have them delivered later that day, and decided to do a little browsing for Christmas because you could never start too early. She was going through the usual chain sites but most stuff was expensive and not really that nice looking to begin with. The stuff she wanted to have was too expensive and sometimes no longer available as her favorite retailer went out of business over ten years ago. This would be the reason why she logged into the auction sites, to see if there was something cheap and rare she could find. She missed a lot of stuff from home and if she only knew she was never going to head back, she would have packed differently, that''s for sure.


    Most of the stuff that was in her luggage was really for her sister, not herself. This made it harder sometimes to get through some days without the keepsakes that normally helped her get through the tougher times. Normally when scanning these auction sites, it was like looking through a haystack for a needle, but it was always worth the effort because she rarely had anything else better to do. She was too old to work and pretty much lived the life of a retired person, which was the cover story she feed to the neighbors as instructed by Mr. Carlson and his people. She turned to the window and peeked through the partially open drape. She didn''t see anything but knew that his men were out there watching her to make sure what happened at the vigil doesn''t happen again. They replaced the entire detail that was watching her, so instead of having nice people who cared for her there were men who said nothing and did nothing to help her. They did their job like mindless zombies and never said anything to her or interacted with her at all. It was apparent that was their job, to make sure she wasn''t able to twist any arms this time and convince someone to help her make a field trip.


    It was going to be a lonely next few weeks, but she had the internet to help her out to an extent. They watched whatever she did, and direct chatting was not allowed. Mostly only surfing to read only pages and all incoming and outgoing email was screened. They let her use their credit cards to make purchases so they could keep track of everything she bought and likely screened everything before it was delivered to her door.


    She was doing her usual searches for items that never seemed to be online when suddenly she got a hit. She suddenly realized she had found a real gem, and then clicked on the link to see the item with her own eyes. When she looked at the picture of the item, it was just like she remembered it. She almost teared up when she saw it because it looked just like the necklace her mother gave her over thirty years ago. She wasn''t prepared to see what came next, when she opened the auction page. At the bottom of the auction there was a picture of a young woman wearing the necklace at what seemed like her graduation. It was a nice picture to show the piece off and draw in a lot more bids for the auction. It took a few seconds for her to finally realize who she was looking at.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    It had been years and she had never attended her graduation, but when she realized who it was standing before her that is when the tears started to flow. It was Jessica at her high school graduation, which likely occurred several years ago. She couldn''t believe what she was seeing and then another horrible thought came to her: someone was selling the necklace her mother gave her! Was Jessica that desperate? She was selling off her jewelry to find her? She thought about it for a moment and then the truth came crashing down around her. Jessica didn''t inherit the necklace because she didn''t have a living will, which meant her husband was the legal owner of the necklace and every other piece of her collection.


    Just the thought of that bastard auctioning off her private stuff for his own personal gain was enough to make her blood boil. This was something he was supposed to pass onto their daughter like her mother did for her, not to be sold off to the highest bidder for a damn profit! The thought of her husband using her personal belongs to line his greedy pockets was so like him too, and she was so disgusted that she went back to the computer and placed a higher than normal bid, eager to reclaim what was rightfully hers. She then bookmarked the page to make sure she could come back and check in many times to make sure she was never outbid. She wanted her stuff back, and then if she ever got to see Jessica again, she would be able to give it back to her like it was supposed to be had she not been there. The price she bid was a little higher than what she would have normally spent online, but she didn''t care anymore. She wanted that necklace back at all costs, and if that meant bankrupting the treasury to accomplish that, then so be it.


    After she placed the bid, she looked at the photos again and had mixed feelings. She was still disgusted that she had to bid on her own stuff to reclaim it yet at the same time happy to see the picture. It was her important time in her daughter''s life that she was unable to attend. The idea of missing all these things upset her even more but she saved the photo to her computer and would later print it out. She would get someone to print it for her so she could hang it in the house somewhere and be proud of what she accomplished that day. After saving it, she looked back to the auction. She was still the high bidder. She left the room to do some dishes and would check again in a few hours to make sure she still was.


    That was one auction she wasn''t going to lose.

 Chapter 27

    Jerome was watching the auction with great care, and there had been quite a few bids over the first twenty hours after posting Jessica''s necklace for sale. He was watching and observing when people bid for the item and for how much at any given time. He was looking for that one person to keep coming back for more and never stop bidding no matter how high the price got. He took another sip of his coffee and kept watching but there were no new bids in the last while so he went back to his Hollywood stock exchange account and updated his portfolio to kill some time. He switched back to the auction when he realized that Jessica was walking into the living room. She looked just as beautiful in the morning, even with a mean case of bed head Jerome thought to himself as he watched her walk in.


    "Morning." He said trying to be friendly, but not in a creepy kind of way, "You''re up early."


    "Did you sleep at all?" she asked, knowing she had been occupying the only couch since the night of the fire.


    "I think there was a moment earlier when I closed my eyes." Jerome said as he took another sip of brew, "I think I may have dozed off for a few hours. It''s probably all the rest I''m going to rest when Edgar got back, but I could do that now if you don''t mind watching the auction for me."


    "Sure, I can do that." Jessica replied, "It''s not like I have anything else to do. If those people are really after me, I can''t go to work or back home right now. Get some rest."


    She walked over to the monitors that were watching the auction and other various websites. She looked at the pictures of her mom''s necklace, and while the number was pretty high she had no idea of any of the bidders was her mother.


    "How many bids do we have so far?" she asked eager to see if there was any interest.


    "We''ve got well over a dozen bids so far. It''s been crazy since the item has been posted, but we''ve got two or three people who are going insane over the item. This is going to be intense. The item has already passed a thousand dollars and everyone still has many hours left to bid. I''m stroked about this because these two have been going to war over this necklace. I think one of them might be the one we''re looking for."


    "How do you intend to look into them all if only one person can win?" Jessica asked someone confused.


    "That''s the beauty of this site," Jerome started to explain, "Let''s say that I''m bidding on a comic book, something I really want to get. I try to place a bid for ten dollars but forget to put in the decimal point, which means I bid a thousand instead of ten dollars. The site allows the buyer to retract the bid as long as it''s done before the auction ends, thus giving everyone else a chance to keep bidding. The site even allows someone to retract a bid after the auction but only with permission from the seller first. So what I intend to do is email everyone who aggressively bids on this item, and let them know that the winner retracted their bid and they all won by default. That way we''ll be able to look into them all and deliver the box to them personally."


    "I don''t mean to poop your plan because it sounds really cool, but how do you intend to deliver the same necklace to more than one person?" she asked rather curious to how he was going to get around that.


    "We''re working on it." Moth said from the other side of the room. Since the fire she hadn''t applied any makeup and actually looked half human for a change, "Devon knows people who are capable of making a few fakes and they''ll pass the test and give use a few cracks to find your mom."


    "This way not only can we serve this item to more than one person at a time, if none of them can be identified as who we''re looking for, we can always put up another auction and try again." Jerome smiled to the two women, very proud of himself and his plan.


    "Well don''t be too proud of yourself, the time for celebrating will be when we find the person we''re looking for." Moth said with a sneer on her face. Even without her makeup, she still had more than enough attitude to spare. She turned away from Jerome and went back to her own work. She was searching the accounts of the people who had been bidding on the auction Jerome was watching. She was hoping by looking at their purchase histories, they might be able to find something that will jump out at them.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Jessica walked over to her station, and started to read some of the stuff with her. They were looking at one account with a weird name that seemed to have made quite a few purchases in the last while. She read the list of items and something jumped out at her, "There." Jessica blurted out as she pointed to an item purchased four weeks ago, "That''s my mother''s favorite country singer, and the fact that she bought the album on LP is another indication it could be her. She hates cassettes and compact discs with a passion."


    "She''s not the only one." Jerome said with a smile as he never peeled his eyes from his own screen. There had been a few more bids in the last few minute. People badly wanted this necklace.


    Jessica kept reading the items that had been purchased, and she spotted another, "That book is one of her favorites!" she said as she pointed to another auction on the screen. There was no doubt about it because she kept find other items that reminded her of her childhood and stuff that her mom liked to collect. From a specific kind of dinner china to her favorite author, she knew the person who owned this account was probably her mother. The idea of it made her tear up just a little bit.


    Edgar came into the room just in time to notice this and turned to Jerome who did not peel away from his screen and smiling, "What the hell is going on?" he asked, eager to find out what had happened.


    "Based on the spending habits of one of the bidders, I think we got a possible match for the person we''re looking for. We''re just a few hours away from being able to send out our first email to her." Jerome said as he turned back to the computer, "It looks like we hit the bull''s eye with our first shot."


    "Excellent!" Edgar said, as he seemed excited to hear this, padding his little buddy on the shoulder, "I''ve got to run out and talk to a few people. I want you to text me the minute we get a response to your email. Understood?"


    Jerome nodded to acknowledge that he got his orders and intended to follow them to a tee. Edgar grabbed his coat from one of the chairs in the room and quickly left. He had to get some information from the police and let them know what he knew in order to help their investigation. The last thing he wanted was them to suspect him for not being co-operative. He bolted out of the place and hopped into his car. It took him about twenty minutes to make his way to the station and he parked in what used to be his usual spot, as his car still had the sticker for police parking. Even though it was expired, fellow officers never ticketed him because they knew he used to be one of them. As he strolled into the main lobby, the welcome he got was the last he expected to see. Two out of plain clothed detectives bolted down a flight of stairs to meet Edgar halfway across the lobby. They both flashed badges and stopped Edgar in his tracks.


    "Mr. Willis," One of them said, "We need to ask you a few questions."


    Before Edgar could answer, two uniformed officers came up and grabbed him from behind. One of them conducted a quick frisk and removed his piece from the holster. Edgar gave the two detectives an annoyed look.


    "If you wanted that, all you had to do was ask." Edgar informed them, "I''m actually here to make a statement and assist you with your investigation. I was hoping you''d be able to answer a few questions for me as well."


    "I don''t think so, Mr. Willis." the other cop said with a tone that gave Edgar a bad feeling about what was going on, "We''ll be the ones asking you the questions and you had better co-operate with us or your stay here will be a lot longer, possibly indefinite."


    "Are you arresting me?" Edgar asked, somewhat amused by all this.


    "Not yet." One of the detectives answered. He then turned to one of the uniformed officers, "Take him to interrogation four. We''ll be there in a few minutes. No one talks to him until we get there."


    The cops nodded and then dragged Edgar off to the interrogation room. He knew the cops were going to want to ask a few questions, but he didn''t think for a moment that they would be so formal with it. You''d think those to detectives would show a little respect for a former employee. Instead they were a bit rough with him as they tossed him into the room and into a chair in the empty interrogation room and left him in there alone to think about what questions he might be asked while waiting for someone to join him.


    Being the professional he was, Edgar felt no need to panic at that particular moment. The manager of the Thai restaurant will vouch for him because he did actually eat something with Devon before going up to the apartment to meet up with Jerome and Moth. He didn''t feel the need to tell them anything at that particular moment as he was going to use the detective''s questions to determine where they''re going with their investigation. He pulled out a nail clipper out of his pocket and started to clip his nails while waiting. He wasn''t in a hurry and didn''t have to worry since Jerome did say he had a few hours until the auction was over. He was going to use this to fish for information. How many bites he got would depend on how well he cast his line. But for now he would have to wait for the fish to come to him.

 Chapter 28

    Mr. Smith was in his office, working the phones and doing his best to gather the information he needed to make a presentation to Mr. Carlson as soon as he could. Turns out Carlson wasn''t very patient today as he came strolling into the office and whipped the door open and closed rather harshly behind him. Smith could tell by the look on his boss'' face that things were going for bad to worse too fast for them to keep track of. Carlson took a moment to settle down and then took a seat across from Smith''s desk.


    "I just got chewed out from above." Carlson informed him. "They''re not happy about this and I can''t blame them one bit. What information do you have so far?"


    Smith took a deep breathe and then broke the news, "Everyone who was on the third floor was murdered before the fire started. All shot before the fire was deliberately set. I have no evidence, but I had to ponder a guess I would suspect the mob."


    "Organized Crime?" Carlson asked, as he was eager to hear more about this interesting theory. "What makes you jump to that kind of conclusion?"


    "The money," Smith replied, trying his best to sell this theory, "It could have been hush money that they could have tried to use to shut them up from something they discovered. The police even suspect Edgar Willis because they think he tried to screw Tuck out of his equal share."


    "Do you really believe that?" Carlson asked.


    "Not really," Smith honestly answered, "This was clearly a multi-man hit. You would need at least half a dozen people to pull of this operation quickly and quietly enough to the point where no one else noticed they were even there. This was professional, from start to finish. They really pissed someone off out there to the point where they were willing to kill to take care of the problem."


    "And the fact that Edgar shot at our people?" Carlson asked, still concerned about that fact.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Well," Smith said, trying to air some confidence. "The police have their suspicions, so it''s fair to say that Edgar has his own suspects as well. I doubt he''ll tell anything to the police. Even if he does, I doubt they''ll give him the time of day either, especially after the way Ms. Johnson was treated when she tried to tell the same story. I think we hit a lucky break. This could take care of the problem for us."


    "I don''t call over a dozen dead people and an agent being fired at lucky!" Carlson snapped as he stood up, "We need to find out who really did this and fast, because the last thing we want Willis to do is add vengeance to the list of reasons why he should look for us and Mrs. Johnson."


    "I''ll make it my top priority." Smith said, as he could tell how serious his boss was taking the situation. "Do you plan to relocate Mrs. Johnson?"


    "Not yet," Carlson said, "I doubt Willis has had any time to start his search so her location is probably safe for the moment. Even if he managed to dig something up, there''s a good chance it went up in smoke with his office. Without a location to work out of, it might be weeks before he picks up this case again. We''ll move her to a new location after things settle down."


    "That sounds wise," Smith concurred, "No need to expose her if we don''t have to."


    "Are you sure this is all the information you have right now?" Carlson added, desperate to have as much as possible for his supervisors.


    "I swear this is all I got," Smith insisted. "I''m sorry I didn''t have more for you but I''ll have a full report ready for you and your superiors by the end of the day."


    "You haven''t had much time to work with." Carlson said, easing up a bit on him, "I look forward to reading your completed report."


    Smith watched as the old man walked out of his office. As he sat back down, Smith let out a huge sigh as if the weight of the world seemed to be weighing on his shoulders. He sat back and looked at his report, it was the best he could come up with on such short notice but would be enough to get the big boys off his back for now.


    Smith was sure he would be rid of both of those pests after the events of the previous night, but it turns out some of them managed to make it out alive. Willis also managed to take Ms. Johnson off the street before his people could get to her. Futile efforts, Smith thought to himself as he flipped open his phone. He sent out a text to a friend of his in the field. He told him to contact the men at the station to find out if Willis was still being held by the police. Hopefully the detective would be there long enough for him to pay a little visit.

 Chapter 29

    The cops had been sweating out Edgar for the past four hours and hadn''t the manners to offer him a cup of crappy coffee from the detective''s lounge. This led Edgar to believe that the coppers assumed to possess strong evidence that linked him to the killing of Tuck and their men. Chances are all they had was a mess of circumstantial evidence, and hoped Edgar would do all the heavy lifting for them and just confess. He was sure Jerome''s auctions were over by now but he would have to wait a little longer to find out what those labors were. The two detectives where getting impatient as one of them slapped an open hand on to the desk, in a futile attempt to intimidate him,


    "Edgar Willis," The first detective started, "We know you and Tuck got a substantial amount of money two days ago. Where did it come from?"


    "A client." Edgar said, actually being rather honest with his answer.


    "Which client?" the other detective asked.


    "You probably got some monkeys tracing the money," Edgar said, as he knew the routine. "You tell me."


    "We traced the payment to a company called Dryden Supplies." The first detective said as he laid down the papers regarding transaction, "Did you know that Tuck took over half the money and wired it to an off shore account in the Caribbean."


    Yes I do, Edgar thought to himself. It was also wired to several other accounts from there and then laundered back into the states under dummy accounts that he''s now using to finance his operations.


    "I had no idea." Edgar said out loud, trying to act rather surprised. "Wouldn''t that be a good motive for Tuck to fake his own death and spend the rest of his life sipping margaritas for the rest of his natural life?"


    "We''ve already identified Mr. Tucker by dental records." The other detective who was still standing replied, confirming what Rod had said earlier.


    "Well, he''s a detective and a former cop." Edgar added, "Don''t you think he would know that and work his way around it to give you the slip?"


    Edgar was now having fun with then. He knew Tuck didn''t fake his death, but this kind of cat and mouse was the best way to suckle information out of them. Both suckers were falling for it hook, line, and sinker.


    "It would give you motive to kill him and keep that money for yourself." the detective said, jumping right to the punch, "That''s why you killed them all and burned the place down, isn''t it?"


    "Oh sure, and if you think I had that kind of money available for the taking, would I be stupid enough to just waltz right in here and give myself up that easily?" Edgar said as he beat them at their own game. His appearance at the police station made no sense at all. His conversation with the two detectives was more than enough to let him know what happened to his men. They were gunned down in cold blood and then the bodies were burned to destroy the offices and possibly any evidence of the case they were working on. Edgar was ready to weasel out a few more answers when there was a loud knock at the door. When it opened, another detective walked into the room. This startled the other two who didn''t seem impressed.


    "This is our case Jenkins!" The first called out to him. "What the hell are you doing in here?"


    Jenkins didn''t seem very impressed either as he gestured to the door, "I want both of you to leave this room immediately. I need a moment alone with Mr. Willis."


    "We''re trying to interrogate this man!" one of them protested.


    "You''d like to think that, wouldn''t you?" Jenkins said, smirking at the two idiots, "He''s been squeezing more information from you than you have from him! You''ve pretty much feed your entire case to him. This is probably the real reason why he came here in the first place, isn''t it Mr. Willis?"


    All three men turned to face Edgar as they waited for him to answer the question. Edgar knew he was in the presence of a real professional now, so there was no point trying to be cute with him.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    "Pretty much," Edgar confirmed, "I was actually hoping no one was going to notice until Twiddle Dumb and Twiddle Dumber here gave me a rundown of the other suspects."


    Jenkins turned to the other two men who were pretty much dumbfounded by what they had just heard, "Get out, now."


    As the two detectives shuffled out as quickly as they could, he closed the door behind them, but kept eye contact with Edgar as he walked back into the middle of the room and sat down at the table.


    "Would you like a cup of coffee?" Jenkins said with a smile. "Maybe we can get someone to wrestle up a donut too."


    Edgar smiled back as understood what trouble he was finally in. This was no fool he was dealing with here and, and he had an inkling that the real pressure was about to be really applied.


    "Why not?" Edgar said, "I''m starved. I''d love either a walnut crunch or a honey curler if one is available."


    Jenkins responded by casually snapping his fingers. Apparently this man was so high up that he was above doing minor crap like that. Even after the donut and coffee arrived, Jenkins still didn''t say a word and sipped on his own coffee that the cop had also brought in for him. Edgar noticed that he didn''t even add anything to the coffee and just sipped away. This meant that either he liked his coffee black like Edgar did, or this man has had his coffee made up so much that his underlings knew exactly how he preferred it made. Edgar knew the routine so he broke the ice after taking his second bite out of his donut.


    "What exactly are we waiting for?" Edgar asked as he chewed rather loudly on his bite. "I don''t exactly have anything new to add to the conversation or to your investigation."


    Jenkins still said nothing, but then the answer came by other means. The cell phone his pocket rang, and he quickly opened the phone,


    "Hello? Yes, he''s right here." Jenkins smiled back at Edgar and then reached out and offered him the cell, "It''s for you."


    Edgar took the small phone from Jenkins and pressed it to his ear, "Hello?" he softly said, not exactly sure who was going to respond.


    "Good afternoon, Mr. Willis." a familiar voice on the other end replied.


    "Norsberg?" Edgar guessed, a bit surprised. He looked back up a Jenkins and suddenly a lot of things started to make sense, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your attention?"


    "My subordinate in front of you told me that you were being questioned for what I suspect is something you had nothing to do with." Norsberg paused for a moment, "I feel really bad about what happened to Mr. Tucker. Please accept my deepest condolences."


    "Thank you," Edgar answered, trying to be as polite as possible.


    He still couldn''t believe someone like Jenkins was on Norsberg''s payroll, but it would explain how Norsberg got his hands on that video tape of Jessica ranting to the cops about her mother. Jenkins, being the smart bloke he was, probably knew about Norsberg''s connection with Flight 77 and likely brought the tape to him for a sizable fee.


    "Is there anything in particular you wanted to pass on besides your condolences?" Edgar asked, as he was a tad impatient and not in the mood for any games at this point.


    "I just called to inform you to keep your mouth shut." Norsberg answered, as the old man let out a soft chuckle. "Dryden Supplies is sending over their best attorney to deal with your current incarceration. I''m sure you''ve been a good boy so far, but thought it would be wise to remind you just in case. Unless they have something to stick you with, which we both know they don''t, your attorney will have you released within the next hour or so. The word is sit tight, Mr. Willis. The cavalry is coming, but it wouldn''t hurt if you sped things up by asking to speak with him too."


    "Understood." Edgar acknowledged as closed the phone and then passed it back to Jenkins before one of the other detectives walked back into the room to see how things were going in there. Edgar answered the question for Jenkins as he looked to the detective who just interrupted them.


    "I just told him this, and now I''m going you the same thing." Edgar started, "I''m not saying another damn word until I speak to my lawyer."


    "You''re lawyering up?" The detective at the door asked, surprised.


    "I am," Edgar confirmed. "So you either charge me with something or get the hell out of here until my representative arrives."


    Jenkins responded by throwing up his arms and gave up, walking out of the room and thus leaving the other detectives there to mop up. It was only a mere ten minutes later when Edgar''s attorney arrived to tossed around a lot of ultimatums and even threats to sue the department if they didn''t release him. It was fun to watch, as Edgar used to be the cop who watched the lawyer do this song and dance for crooks, and scum who never deserved representation this good. After going a few rounds with this lawyer, the cops looked like prize fighters who had just gone ten rounds with a boxing phenom. In quick time it was decided not to charge Edgar with anything for now, but he was asked to stay in the jurisdiction in case they needed to ask him a few questions. Edgar was released a half hour later after the lawyer arrived and left the station as soon as he could, rushing back to the alternate location to get an update on Jerome''s efforts to find their missing person.

 Chapter 30

    Mrs. Johnson was a very unhappy woman. She had bid aggressively and very recklessly to get her necklace back, but had done so in vain. With less than two minute left to bid she went to the bathroom, and that was enough time for someone else to jump in and overshoot her maximum bid by a few dollars. She was heartbroken, and sadder than she ever felt since this whole mess had begun. She knew early on there was no use fighting them. They were going to get their way no matter what happened, so it was best to co-operate and get something out of it for yourself and your family. Her husband got a massive million dollar insurance payout from the airlines and government because of what had allegedly happened to her, and she was give a new location, mortgage and bill free as long as she kept quiet and made no efforts to contact anyone she knew before, and live a normal life.


    At this moment Mrs. Johnson didn''t seem to care as the anger from losing the necklace was too much for her to bear. In a fit of anger she grabbed a lamp that was beside the computer and flung it against the wall, smashing it into little pieces. It was the kind of anger and frustration she hadn''t felt in a while, and low and behold the source of that pain and suffering was her no good, piece of shit husband. She couldn''t believe after all this time apart, he was still able to get under her skin and bring out the worst in her. She started to pick up the pieces to the broken lamp, and was almost finished cleaning up when her computer made a distinct chiming sound that so many people love to hear.


    "You have mail." the computer told her.


    She got up from the floor and walked back to the computer, and on the screen was the received email. She clicked on it and read the message. It was from the person she was trying to buy the necklace from:


    "It turns out the person who placed the winning bid did so in error. They are unable to make payment and we have allowed them to retract their bid. This makes your bid the highest and we''d like to offer you a chance to purchase the item for your last posted bid. E-mail us with payment information and an address for delivery and the item is yours. If you no longer want the item, we will repost the item with no hard feelings and no negative feedback. Have a good day and we look forward to hearing back from you." Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Mrs. Johnson couldn''t believe her luck. The winning bid was retracted and she won her necklace! She used the information that Mr. Carlson and his people gave her for buying stuff, and made the purchase online with the company card. It was a little more than what she expected to pay, but she didn''t care. It was the one item she wished she still had, and would have doubled the national deficit to get it back. She eagerly made the purchase and then sent an email back to the person she bought the item from, giving them the address she was asked to use for all deliveries. She was confident that Mr. Smith was going to give her stern look, and maybe even a lecture about spending too much of the taxpayers money. She didn''t care, and thought the young agent could stick his self-righteous lectures where the sun don''t shine.


    The necklace was originally a gift from her mother, and she wasn''t going to let someone from outside her family take it away from her. This was something she wanted to hand down to Jessica, and that bastard used the fact she didn''t make a living will to sell her stuff without consulting anyone about it. Jessica would flip out if she knew her father was selling the heirlooms that were supposed to go to her. At least if she gets this one, she might have a chance to one day give it to Jessica like she had originally intended to.


    Mrs. Johnson was excited about getting something from her past back, so excited that she didn''t even consider looking at the email address or the way the letter was written. Had she bothered to even look into it, she might have suspected that someone else besides her husband was responsible for the auction. She turned the monitor off and then went back to cleaning up the broken lamp. She was doing all right and the day seemed to be looking a little better already.

 Chapter 31

    Edgar strolled back into his favorite Thai restaurant close to five hours after he had left, confident that when he returned Jerome would have an update for him. Devon didn''t even ask why his trip to the cop shop lasted so long, as he knew they had some tough questions for him. The news that they got an address from the buyer that Jessica was confident was her mother was big news. The address provided wasn''t helpful as it was a P.O. Box, but that only seemed to excite Jerome more. He had traced the I.P. address of the bidder to learn that the person didn''t even live in the same town as the box she was asking them to ship the necklace to. This led Jerome to believe someone was going through and inspecting her mail before eventually delivering to her at a later time. Jerome was very careful to trace the location of the computer, using more difficult means to get it that didn''t raise any red flags with the people who were likely watching the subject and her computers like a hawk.


    Edgar was all smiles when he got the news, and he could tell Jessica was excited until he informed her she wasn''t going. They had pictures of her mom, and would make an ID on their own. While the young lady wasn''t impressed with the idea of being benched when it counted she understood after Edgar told her it wasn''t safe, and she needed to stay in the background until they had things under control. After talking over the plan, Edgar took Devon aside for a little private conversation.


    "Do you have a problem with the revised plan?" Edgar asked once they had some privacy, "The others don''t need to know about this part."


    Devon cracked an evil grin, "I have no problem with that at all. I made some calls, and we''ll have some more muscle here tomorrow. They were close to my team and want a piece of these people as much as I do."


    "Well, let them know there is more in it for them than just revenge. This is a paying job and as the money man that means I''m in charge." Edgar said as he followed Devon out to the back behind the restaurant, "You still have that truck we used the last time we had to fake a delivery?"


    "Oh yeah," Devon confirmed, "That job worked so well for us there was no way in hell I was going to part with it. I''ve used that bugger to catch over a dozen bounties. You''d be surprised how trusting someone is when they see a truck that pro show up at their door. They hardly ever question it, especially when using stolen uniforms."


    "How soon can we get going?" Edgar said, eager to set a timetable.


    "We need to paint the truck." Devon said, "The trucks are usually updated often to prevent exactly what we''re trying to get away with. I took the honor while you were gone to photograph a few trucks while they were parked outside. We''re not the only people in town who love to take advantage of this place''s lunch buffet."


    He pulled out his digital camera, and started to show Edgar some of the pictures. The trucks were updated only a tiny bit, only a few minor details but that''s all it usually took.


    "That''s not too bad," Edgar said as he looked at the photos, "Just need to add a fresh coat of paint and the new logo and we''ll be good to go. Are the uniforms pretty much the same?"


    "They are." Devon said as he shifted to another photo, "They haven''t changed those buggers in years. So I don''t need to buy any new ones but I will need to shave and get a haircut. That''s the only thing I don''t like about this gig. Normally I''d have Tuck do the whole delivery thing, but since he''s gone, one of us will have to do it."


    "We''ll all be there for support." Edgar said, trying to be supportive, "And if things go according to plan, we''ll net ourselves a few big fish. When does the rest of our new crew arrive?"


    "They''ll be here tomorrow," Devin confirmed, "But I''ve got to warn you, the new crew is going to cost you another two hundred large. They come at the same price my team did."


    "That''s alright." Edgar confessed, as he more comfortable with the idea than he normally would be. "After what happened to our people, we can''t afford to take any chances, so they''ll be worth it. Better to have too many bodies instead of not enough. We also need a crew tough enough to put up a firefight if necessary. If those guys attempt to torch us again, I want to make sure all they get for their effort is some extra lead in added to their diets. They''ll know we mean business and have no intention of backing down."If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Preach on brother." Devon replied, as he too liked this plan, "We haven''t been on the same page this well in a very long time. I almost forgot how that felt, and I''m rather comfortable with it."


    "The feeling is quite mutual." Edgar observed as he scanned the truck over, "I''ll get Jerome to work on that new logo. With all that fancy new equipment he bought on my dime, there should be something in there that will allow him to manufacture what we need. Make sure he gets that picture and I''ll make sure he does it right."


    "I''m sure he will... he was a good pick up, mate." Devon confirmed as he took the camera, "And we''re going to make these people pay for what they did, aren''t we?"


    "The best way I know how." Edgar said as he looked his compadre in the eye, "We hit them hard by doing the one thing they''ve fought for all those years to prevent. The one thing that would shatter their world apart, and take down some of the biggest people in politics while we''re at it by exposing their secrets to the world. We get a confession and then we broadcast it to the free world. After that we take what''s left of Norsberg''s money and retire."


    "Retirement?" Devon repeated as he thought about it, "Not exactly the word I thought I would ever hear myself saying."


    "Once this thing comes out, chances are we''re not going to have a choice." Edgar said, "We''ll have to go underground. I already have a plan and prior investments in place. The original plan was for me and Tuck, but make this work and I''ll settle for you.


    "Gee, thanks." Devon replied, as he didn''t like being treated like leftover dinner.


    "We''ll have to go into hiding," Edgar explained, "But with the money the old man is paying, that won''t be an issue."


    "Sounds like a plan," Devon said, "But for now let''s get all this on track and get back to work. I have a truck to paint, so I had better get back to the shop and get to it. I''ll have the cell on if you need to contact me. If not I''ll be back for a little late supper when I''m finished."


    "I''ll be here." Edgar said, as he watched Devon leave the building and take off for his own shop. The plan was in place and it was only a matter of time before they caught their enemy with their pants down and took them to the cleaners for a change.


    At first his quest was to find the truth and use it to squeeze more money out of Norsberg. Now it was personal, and Edgar was going to do everything he could to make them pay for what happened to Tuck and his people. As the plot for revenge was rattling around in his head, Edgar took the time to head back upstairs to where Jerome was hard at work. He took out his cell phone and passed it over to Jerome.


    "I got some pictures of the updated delivery truck." Edgar said, showing him the picture. "We need a replica of the new logo so our plan to deliver the necklace to our bidder works as planned. You sure this is the right person?"


    "I''m more confident than ever," Jerome answered, "Unlike the other auctions, this buyer responded in less than a half-hour to my email and you can tell by the way the letter is typed that she''s extremely thankful for the chance to buy it. This buyer has personal written all over their motive for going after this item. The email is also listed under a female name. All her emails are also being screened."


    "How can you tell?" Edgar asked.


    "Have a look at this." Jerome opened up a new window that presented a lot of computer code that Edgar didn''t understand nor want to even comprehend at all, "This code is kind of like the barcode for it''s delivery through cyberspace. Normally it can take seconds to a few minutes for an email to be delivered. But this email went through a few servers before finally coming out to me. What interests me is the second server right here."


    Jerome pointed to certain portion of the code, but to Edgar it was all Swahili. It might as well been that confusing code from the Matrix, as most people in the room couldn''t make squat out of it.


    "This server held the letter for almost thirty minutes before eventually letting it go." Jerome continued, "This is consistent with someone that is screening all of her incoming and outgoing letters. She''s being censored, as if someone is making sure she doesn''t reveal anything she''s not supposed too over the internet."


    Edgar could smell what Jerome had cooking here. "I see what you mean. They can''t restrict her from the internet because it''s safer for her to buy stuff from it than having her roam around where she could bump into people, but you need to make sure she doesn''t just try to email or chat online in a forum where she could easily spill the beans. This is looking more and more like the person we''re looking for. Nice work." he said as he padded Jerome on the back. "Tuck would have been proud of this. Let''s take this thing down for him, okay?"


    "Nothing would make me happier." Jerome said as he kept working, not taking his eyes off the screen. Jerome had his own reasons for wanting to avenge Tuck''s death. If it wasn''t for his generosity to let him go get the equipment, there''s a good chance he might have been in the building with him. It could have easily been him as well, so he knew the risks and wanted to finish this to prevent anymore people on his side from being taken out, especially himself. It was only a matter of time before they were knocking on this lady''s door, and when they do, that''s when it''s going to hit the fan. Then everything will be exposed. Something he was definitely looking forward to.

 Chapter 32

    Mr. Smith was in his office working intensely, which was rather normal for his line of work. The program always kept everyone on their toes, and this case with Mrs. Johnson was no different. Even though she is one of the most co-operative members of the program, even an unintentional act could cause weeks of endless problems. Sometimes those acts are worse than the ones done intentionally, because at least you can track them, using behavior and patterns to predict a run. Smith had just finished his report, printed it up, and bound it presentation. He was sure Mr. Carlson and his superiors were going to find this very interesting reading, even if it was no where near the truth of the matter. Right now the truth wasn''t something Mr. Carlson and his people were ready to handle. Their answer for everything was to expand and relocate anyone who asked too many questions.


    Truth is, on occasion it was good to take people out and send a message to anyone else who tried to investigate them: you mess with the bull, then you get the horns. Smith didn''t feel bad about what happened at Tuck''s office, his only regret was not being able to take out Edgar Willis at the same time. Smith thought it was all taken care of, but it turns out the man who he thought was Edgar Willis was just a co-worker who falsely confessed to being Mr. Willis. A very heroic gesture, because if he had known that Edgar wasn''t in the building, he would have left people at the site to look for him. But Tuck was the only man who knew the truth, but was unwilling to talk. Whoever was backing their project still remained a mystery. Mr. Tucker took that secret to his grave and to his maker. This kept Edgar and his back safe for now, but it was only a matter of time before he found Willis and the key this time would be to make him talk so they can find out who was paying for this little fiasco. Someone was backing this goose chase, that much Smith was sure of. Proving it on the other hand was going to be another matter altogether. The money was impossible to trace and doesn''t go back any further than Dryden Supplies. He needed to keep digging and eventually the truth would come out, even if he had to call in every favor he had left with the every person he knew. While he was going over the paper work for Dryden Supplies, someone came knocking at his door.


    "What seems to be the problem?" Smith asked, as he didn''t even take his eyes off of his work.


    "We seem to have a problem with Mrs. Johnson." A junior agent said trying not to sound worried, but failed.


    Smith put down what he was looking at and then looked back up at the worker at his door, "What''s going on with Mrs. Johnson?"This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Well, normally she''s a very conservative spender." The agent calmly answered. "Normally she doesn''t go out of hand when making online orders."


    "Jesus, what the hell did she buy?" Smith asked. Even he knew this was uncharacteristic of Mrs. Johnson. Normally Carlson would only have to worry about Eva and her Gucci bag collection being the only thing that ran the bill on their cards a tad high.


    "A necklace." the junior agent replied, "She purchased it off an online auction site for twenty-seven hundred dollars."


    Smith sat back and thought about it for a moment, and after a few moments, he looked back up at the worker, "How old is this necklace?" he asked with potential answers already buzzing around his head.


    "Well," the agent started, "The Corporation that made it doesn''t exist anymore. According to someone I know on the floor who knows a lot about jewelry, she said that this company''s items are rare to find, especially online. She said that they hardly ever make it online and are usually sold at one of those private in house auctions."


    Smith mulled over the expenditure for a moment and then shrugged it off, "Let it go. Chances are this was her favorite jewelry company way back in her younger days. There''s a good chance she probably had one just like that in her past life. Things like this happen all the time, especially when it comes to women and their Jewelry."


    They both shared a laugh at that comment.


    "Besides," Smith continued, "It''s not like she''s going to make a habit of this. You said yourself that pieces like these rarely if ever make it online. That means this purchase is likely going to be a one time thing. I highly doubt she''s going to pull an Eva and spend six digits anytime soon."


    The junior agent laughed again, "No, I guess not. I''ll let the payment clear and I''ll have a team inspect the item when it comes in through the mail."


    "Why do we want to inspect it?" Smith asked, somewhat confused.


    "Well, if the taxpayers are going to foot the bill for an expensive necklace," the junior agent answered, "The least we should do is make sure that it''s not a fake."


    "That doesn''t seem too unreasonable." Smith agreed. If the taxpayers were going to buy stuff like this, the least they should do is make sure they''re buy stuff wasn''t fraudulent. He dismissed the worker and sent him back to the floor to do his job. At that moment, women''s obsession for jewelry wasn''t exactly a high priority. He went back to his investigation of Dryden Supplies, the one thing that was in his humble opinion the real threat to the program. He wasn''t worried about the online spending habits of a woman who has a specific taste for jewelry. He should have been.

 Chapter 33

    Devon had the truck repainted and ready to go in less than twenty-four hours. Jerome had the new logo printed up and ready to attach to the truck in just a little over that time as well. Edgar could see the plan coming together and met Devon behind the Thai restaurant as he pulled into the back alley with his newly painted delivery truck. Edgar ran a hand across the side panel.


    "Did you use the paint I asked you to apply?" Edgar asked.


    "Yes, that shit is bloody expensive." Devon said as he hopped out of the truck, "But it''s a good thing you''re paying for all expenses."


    "Not today." Edgar said as he pulled out a thick wad of cash from his pocket, "Today all expenses are on Uncle Sam. This is the payment Mrs. Johnson made for the necklace via the government''s plastic. This will cover us for gas and food while we make the road trip to the three addresses Jerome gave us. All of them are less than two hour''s drive from one another. We have to get going soon, we promised delivery within two days. Is Tank and his boys ready?"


    "As ready as they''re ever going to be." Devon answered as he started to put on the uniform. Edgar took off his coat and started to do the same. Both he and Devon were going to make the delivery together. Devon had prepared for this job by shaving off his beard and even cutting his hair. Combined with the light brown jumpsuit, there was no way anyone wouldn''t suspect that he didn''t do this job for a living. He usually didn''t get this personal with a case, but considering what happened to his crew, Devon wasn''t willing to put anyone else in the line of fire but himself over the next while. He was more than capable of taking care of himself and didn''t feel the need to put anyone else in harm''s way too soon after what happened at Tuck''s office. Cyrus and the boys are tough enough to take care of themselves as well. Edgar was going to get his money''s worth with that crew, as they were a very, very tough group of goons. He understood Edgar''s reason for wanting them on this mission as too much muscle was never a bad thing especially when you''re walking into what could be the proverbial lion''s den.


    He had to admit having Cyrus''s men in the background and Cyrus himself watching over them made him feel a little safer going into this operation. This wasn''t a first time for Edgar and Devon, but the last time they tried something this risky it didn''t work out too well. With the money and the people in place, Devon was a little more confident that this one would work out a little bit better. They have their bases covered a little more than they did last time and have the muscle in case things go wrong. Edgar had definitely learned from his mistakes and things were bound to work out this time. Both men were determined and ready to kick ass. Hopefully no one would get hurt, but he was armed as usual, with a nice secret compartment in his truck that he modified himself. There were several weapons on that truck, so he was ready for anything.


    Edgar finished putting on his jumpsuit and looked back to Devon, "Don''t say a single word. I know there are a few extra pounds."


    "A few?" Devon repeated with a grin, "No comment..."


    Jerome came down from his nest for the first time in days, and took a look at the truck. His logo was flawless and with it the truck looked completely legit. He turned to Edgar, "No chance I can change your mind about staying behind?"


    "No dice, sport." Edgar said as he put on his light brown baseball cap, "We need you guys to stay here where it''s safe."


    He said as he hopped into the truck. Devon took the wheel because he was used to and more comfortable driving that behemoth.


    "We''ll keep in contact and let you know what happens." Devon reassured the young man. "For now we''re going to stay silent until this whole thing is over."


    "The last thing we want to do is tip off the wrong people." Edgar added, "Keep to yourself and keep activity to a minimum until we get back. Understood?"


    Jerome seemed a little bummed out for being left on the sidelines but realized someone had to be left behind to hold the fort, "Aye, Aye." He replied with a mocking salute to go with his sarcasm.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Edgar was going to say something, but thought against it as he jumped in the truck and left. They had a lot of ground to cover and a few old com-padres to meet up with quickly. These people didn''t like to be stood up and it was necessary for them to get to where they were going on time. As the truck was driving around, Edgar could tell that no one was questioning the legitimacy of their cover story. To them it was just another deliver truck clogging up an already congested city. But they never stayed in the city for long, as Devon hit the highway and booted out of town as quickly as they could. While on their way out there, Edgar couldn''t help but strike up some conversation to kill a little time.


    "Are you going to be all right with this plan, Devon?" Edgar inquired.


    "I''ll be all right, mate." Devon said, keeping his eyes on the road, "I''m just looking forward to breaking this whole stinking thing open and sticking it to those slimy buggers."


    "I''m all for that too." Edgar said as he sat back and relaxed, "But we have to remain focused. We''re not dealing with a normal adversary here. This was never a run of the mill bounty hunt."


    "I get that, but this is personal now." Devon retorted as he dodged a few slow moving cars, "I don''t shave my beard for just anything, and I''m eager to break this case big time so those bastards will get what they got coming to them."


    "Amen to that." Edgar confirmed, as he seemed to be dozing off a bit, "But we also have to satisfy our benefactor as well. I''m sure he''ll be offering us another fat contract if we managed to solve this one for him. Just imagine how much money that crazy old fart would shell out when we start the search for one of his own?"


    Devon got a shiver up his spine when he thought about that one. If the old man was willing to spend this much to find a complete stranger, than the idea of the number he would shell out for his own offspring was just too high to consider or comprehend at that given moment.


    "I''m not sure what number it would be," Devon replied, "But I have a feeling it would definitely have a lot of zeroes after it."


    "You got that right." Edgar said as he pointed to a sign, "This is our exit. Last chance bud, you sure you want to do this?"


    "Absolutely." Devon replied without hesitation, "It''s time to dish out a nice, cold, overdue serving of payback."


    He pulled the truck off the highway and towards their rendezvous with someone they usually preferred not to do business with, but this time had to make an exception. As they drove into the parking lot of a vacant steel mill, the man they were looking to meet was in the lot sitting on the hood of his car. He represented many, but was there to do negotiations on his own. He was huffing on a massive cigar and was so biker he made Devon look like a shameless wannabe. With tattoos to spare and paint all the way up his arms, he looked like a walking work of Jackson Pollack. Once the truck pulled up, he seemed a bit confused but relaxed when he finally recognized the men in the uniformed.


    "Damn, gentlemen." the man said as he got up off the hood of his car, "For a moment I thought you were fed-exing my payment to me. Nice costumes, are we going to a party? If I had known, then I would have dressed up too."


    "Cut the bullshit, Cyrus." Edgar said as he stepped out of the truck, "You know this is the cover. You also know why we''re here, and I''m sure this will motivate you to do as you''re told." Edgar handed the man a piece of paper. It was a transaction slip that proved the money they agreed on had been wired to the account of his choosing.


    The biker cracked a grin from behind his massive handlebar mustache, and then looked back up at the two men in their corny delivery costumes, "So you guys are for real on this, eh?"


    "As real as a heart attack." Devon confirmed.


    "This is just a down payment." Edgar continued, "More will be wired, ad I''ll even toss in a bonus if you guys managed to accomplish the goals that we have set out for you. Are your people ready to go?"


    "They''re on their way to the towns you specified, with instructions to stay away from the target zone until we meet up with them." Cyrus replied as he unlocked his car, "So are you guys going to inform me what the hell this is about?"


    "Not yet," Edgar said as he got back in the truck, "This is something personal and I''m not willing to go into detail about it just yet."


    "Does this have something to do with Tuck?" Cyrus quickly asked, being the bright bloke that he was.


    Edgar paused for a moment and then nodded, "It does, and that''s why we''re paying you the big bucks and working with you again. We want this handled by the right people who know what they''re doing."


    "We''re on the same page." Cyrus concurred, "We''ll do this right for you bud. For Tuck..."


    Cyrus seemed to be a little pained by mentioning him, and Edgar knew why. Tuck was a good guy who got to the best of everyone, and you couldn''t help but always like the guy no matter what he did or said. They all pulled out of the parking lot a few moments later and resumed traveling to their destination.

 Chapter 34

    Jerome was back at the apartment above the Thai restaurant, and had the kettle boiling for yet another delectable serving of Mr. Noodle. Not exactly the most nutritious of meals, but he was keeping a low profile as instructed to by the boss. Keeping low also meant little or no take out foods. He didn''t mind eating the hot, watered down noodles, especially since he had his own secret for making them extra special. What he did was pick up a box of those cup-a-soup packages and just dumped one of those into his Mr. Noodle and that made the broth a soup that was just as good to consume. Jerome was rather proud of his creation and took his slice of noodle/chicken soup heaven back to the desk where he was watching traffic on the Internet. He was keeping tabs on emails and what not. As instructed to by Edgar, Jerome was only looking around and not touching or hacking into anything while they were gone. So far things were rather quiet, and he wasn''t paying that much attention anyway, he was too busy trying to make sure he didn''t spill any of his soup on the keyboards. Jessica was sleeping on the couch, resting because she was too nervous to do anything else that was remotely helpful. Just the thought that Devon and Edgar could be meeting up with her mother today was too much for her to handle. She spent most of the morning running around and talking about what could happen and how things could change. After asking frantic questions and pacing around like a chicken with its head cut off, she finally rested on the couch, which was just fine for everyone else in the building. She wasn''t the only one with nerves, but no one else was showing their hands and kept them close to their chests.


    Moth was not a fan of Mr. Noodle or anything else that Jerome had stocked the shelves with so she refused to stay underground and went out for a slice of pizza. She wasn''t too fond of the restaurant below as well, so Jerome shrugged it off as Moth being Moth and kept his thoughts to himself. He wasn''t her keeper, and not in a position to tell Moth what she could and couldn''t do around the apartment. She blended anyway, and there was no way the boys would suspect someone like Moth to be working for Edgar so she had that going for her. He relaxed into his seat and slurped back some more noodles. He was about half way through his delicious meal when Jessica stirred awake for the first time in a few hours.


    "Good afternoon." he said to greet her back to the real world.


    "How long have I been asleep?" she asked as she sat up and began to rub her eyes and focus.


    "Edgar and Devon have been gone for over five hours. If they are not knocking on the lady''s door, I''d say they''re damn close." Jerome took another slurp and looked back to her after finishing his bite of noodle, "You feeling better?"


    "My nerves are getting to me a little. I can''t believe that I could see her later on today." She got up and walked over to the kitchen to get something to drink. There was a pot of coffee on, but she passed on it and moved on to the fridge and took a can of soda, "How much longer should they be?"


    "I''m not sure." Jerome said as he looked back at what he was working on, "But we''re supposed to stay put until Edgar gives the all clear."


    "Do you think they''ll be alright out there?" Jessica asked, not sure what they were going to find out there.


    "They''ll be fine," Jerome said with a confident grin, "When I was speaking to Tuck a few days ago, he informed me that Devon and Edgar have a history that goes quite a ways back. He never got into detail with me about it, but assured me that when they''re on the same page, they''re a team that you wouldn''t want to mess with. Now that they have a common enemy, I feel sorry for the group that has to deal with those two when they''re focused."


    "I guess," Jessica inactively acknowledged as she seemed distracted for obvious reasons. She had been distracted and not herself the entire day. Jerome could understand how she felt. There was a chance she was soon going to be reunited with a loved one that was thought dead. Just the idea seemed overpowering so it was only natural to be not only distracted but a little tense as well.


    Jerome had tried his best to help out but it wasn''t any good. She hadn''t eaten anything that morning, and that was the first good sleep she had in a long time. He would have tried to get her out to get some air, but was being very cautious this day because the last thing he wanted to do was burden Edgar with something else on such a huge day for him and Devon. He was more guarded than usual, and had made preparations for tense days like the one they were currently experiencing. The incident with the fire that took Tuck and almost a dozen other people also made him a little apprehensive and thus justified to make sure security was not an issue with this place. Since Edgar was footing the bill, setting the place up to his satisfaction was not a problem and taken care of with ease. Jerome was almost half way through a pizza pocket that he nuked up a few minutes ago when something caught his attention. There was a red light flashing just to the right of his mouse. Chances are it hadn''t been flashing long but he was a little edgy himself. He turned to face Jessica and snapped at her in a hushed whisper.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "The silent alarm has been triggered," Jerome informed her, "Head for the back door."


    He then turned back to his two computers and typed in a special code. Once the codes were tossed into the system, the computer released a virus on itself and the other systems in the apartment and started to wipe out all useful data from them in record speed. In less than five minutes, all systems would be wiped clean as if they were just bought from the computer store. After punching in the codes for the systems, Jerome was out of his chair and only a few steps behind.


    "I''m not kidding!" he called out, "Move your ass to the back exit."


    They both ran to the back door of the apartment that led to the fire escape. Yet when they looked out the window there were over six men in black suits waiting outside. They had the back covered, so Jerome had to move onto plan B. He had planned an extra exit strategy for just such emergencies, one that would make Batman proud. When the building was empty one night, Edgar had workers pound through a wall that connected their apartment to the building next door. The people next door didn''t know about it, but Edgar made Jerome promise to only use it when necessary. This seemed like the right time as he grabbed a fake bookshelf that was in the bedroom, and unhooked it from the wall, it pulled back to reveal the secret door to the next building. They both rushed through to the other side and when Jerome shut the cabinet behind him, he locked it with a deadbolt that was only made available from the inner part of the door. It would be enough to buy them some time. When the two of them emerged into the other apartment, there was a woman in the kitchen making something to eat for a small child. She let out a scream, something that neither he nor Edgar could have suspected, but was entire possible since two people just appeared in her apartment for no reason at all uninvited.


    "I''m so sorry!" Jerome said as he held up his hands, "We took a wrong turn, we''re leaving right now!"


    He and Jessica made their way to the front door and into the hallway of the building. The woman who owned the apartment was in such a tirade while she was dialing the police to come over, she didn''t notice Jerome took two coats off the rack as he and Jessica walked out the door. The put the coats on and walked down the stairs to the main floor and quickly scooted out the front door. There was a decent crowd at the main entrance, as they seemed to eagerly watch what was going on. It appears there were a lot of police men there to help out with the busting of their apartment. This was good because it gave Jerome and Jessica the cover they needed to slip out the door and blend into the crowd.


    It seemed like they were going to get out of there without a hitch, when suddenly they saw a man dressed rather similar to the guys out back. He was only twenty feet away and likely being a look out in case they managed to by.


    "You!" he called out to them both, "Don''t move an inch." He cried as he pulled out his sidearm and started to run towards them.


    The minute he shouted that out, the uniformed officers turned around and also noticed them. Jerome grabbed Jessica as she tried to run, but he knew it was over. There was no point trying to push their luck.


    "Let the uniforms take us." Jerome suggested. "Force them to do a transfer of custody. It should create a paper trail, which will make it easier for Edgar and Devon to find us."


    Jessica seemed upset at first but realized he was telling the truth, they were caught so it was best to go their way rather than secretly into the custody of those who might have killed Tuck and the guys. Jerome raised his hands and backed towards the uniformed officers while screaming out for everyone to hear.


    "I am not resisting arrest!" Jerome called out with his hands up.


    The crowd then turned and began to watch as Jerome and Jessica fell to their knees as instructed to by the cops. Jerome kept screaming out the same thing over and over again for everyone watching to hear, "I am not resisting arrest!"


    He finally stopped saying it after they were escorted away from the guys in black and tossed into the back of a car waiting outside. Jerome knew this was the last thing Edgar needed on his plate, but a public arrest may have been the only thing that saved their lives. Yet things took a turn or the worse when the car was taken by two of the dark suited men. Jerome turned to Jessica.


    "Tell them nothing." He told her, "Let me handle this."


    Jessica nodded as the car pulled away, scared and at the same time disappointed that she wouldn''t be there to hear how today''s plan went.


    As the car pulled away, the one of the men in the front couldn''t help but make a comment, "You two are in a lot of trouble."


    "Believe it or not," Jerome started, trying to bait them, "Whenever a PI is taken into custody, we usually take that as a sign that we''re making progress and are on the right track."


    "You have a right to remain silent." the guy behind the wheel said as they finally managed to navigate the car through the crowd and out onto the road, "I suggest you take advantage of that."


    "Wow," Jerome responded with heavy sarcasm, "The fact that you goons know any of the Miranda rights is astonishing, giving the fact that you pretty much disregard any rights we have. Your whole secret gustoppa crap is a little too movie clich¨¦ for my liking. You''ll get nothing from us... and unless you have a computer genius on hand within your tack team, that computers should have wiped itself clean by now. You''ve got nothing."


    "Is this your idea of handling it?" Jessica asked a little worried.


    Jerome smiled and sat back, "Tell them nothing." he repeated as he relaxed and prepared himself for the unavoidable. They were in custody and going to be questioned sooner than later. He only hoped Edgar would have better luck on his side because they were royally pooched.

 Chapter 35

    The second neighborhood was more or less what you would expect from a television show. It was so cookie cutter normal it was the kind of thing that would creep out any city person. Rows of clean cut lawns, big residential houses and not a single piece of litter on the ground made this look more like a ghost town than anything else. The first neighborhood they visited to deliver their package was the exact opposite: people everyone, bums on the streets. There wasn''t a single person on this street, giving Edgar the impression that the people who live here commute to their real lives when working during the day. If there was anyone home on streets like this, they were indoors and sheltered away from the world, literally. As they drove around, looking for a specific street, Edgar could tell that Devon was a little freaked out by how clean the place looked as well. It was too perfect to be true. They had been looking for the address Jerome had given Edgar after tracing her IP address, but with no luck so far. Eventually they had to break down and stop at a store and pretend to be new and ask for directions when buying something to drink. The people at the store were nice enough to help out and they were on their way. After a few wrong turns, they eventually found the street they were looking for and cruised down slowly looking for the right house. But when they found it, Devon drove right past and didn''t slow down as instructed to by Edgar.


    "Seems like the place to me." Edgar said, "And we''ll do another drive by to look for anyone keeping an eye her house."


    "Do you honestly believe they''ve got this place staked out?" Devon asked, somewhat doubtful they would use that kind of manpower for this old lady, "Do you have any idea what kind of manpower it would take to just stake out one place 24/7?"


    "As a matter of fact I do." Edgar said, not taking his eyes off the neighborhood, "I distinctly remember paying your crew a boatload of cash to do it a few years back."


    "After what happened at the Vigil, it''s a very good possibility." Devon said as he thought about it, "The fact that they know we might be looking for her would warrant that kind of caution."


    "If this is the place," Edgar added, "At least there are not as many people around, which lowers the chance of interference or people calling for the police too quickly. Let''s drive around one more time and then we''ll hit the door and try to deliver the package."


    "No problem, mate." Devon responded as he pulled into another street to start another sweep.


    They looked around but couldn''t find a thing that would give them the impression that someone was watching but Edgar knew better. Any car around here that was parked with a tinted window could be them, watching for anything out of the ordinary. As they drove around again, Edgar opened his cell and tried to call Jerome. There was no answer, and while for a moment that worried him but he passed it off as Jerome just being too busy to get to the phone and went back to work. As they approached the house, Edgar tapped his partner on the shoulder.


    "Park across the street," Edgar started, "If someone is watching we don''t want to tip them off until you knock on the front door. Make them think we''re here for the person across the street."


    "Alright," Devon acknowledged as he pulled up to the curb. They booked looked across the street at the house they were looking for, "Last chance, mate. Sure you want to go this far?"


    "You said that at the last place and I''m telling you again: the money''s too good." Edgar replied as he started to prepare something for his partner, "Now, make sure you stick to the plan.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "I know the plan." Devon said with a hint of frustration, "We went over it perfectly last time, so get off my bloody case."


    "Just wanted to be absolutely sure you were all right with our plan. You are after all... the bait." Edgar emphasized with a faint smile. He loved pushing other people out into the line of fire, especially if it was someone like Devon.


    "Just had to remind me of that, didn''t you?" Devon sarcastically asked as he pulled into the street again, "I know what to do. Even if this doesn''t work out perfectly, at the least we''ll have Jessica''s Mum again and they''ll be a family reunion in a few hours time."


    There was a rumbling from the back compartment, "Jesus guys, we''ve been around a half a dozen times. Let''s park before someone calls the cops just out of suspicion of your lame ass driving!"


    "Alright, alright," Devon said as he put the vehicle in park and turned the engine off. As instructed, he pulled over across the street from the house they wanted as opposed to stopping in front of it. There were several cars in the driveways and only a few on the street itself. He paused for a few moments and then looked over at Edgar.


    "See you in a few." Devon said, as he grabbed the clipboard off the dash and a small parcel before exiting the vehicle. As he stepped out of the truck, there was no way anyone was going to be able to recognize him. While Edgar ran around with a small scruff, Devon has a massive handlebar mustache that made him easy to spot in a crowd. But today the bounty hunter had a clean shaven face, a light brown pair of shorts and shirt on with a baseball cap. Even if the people he shot at a few days ago had his photos to keep an eye out for him, there was no way any of them were going to recognize him. It made him the obvious choice to be the package boy for this little adventure. The big man took a deep breathe and then crossed the street and started to walk towards the door of the house in question. He had seen pictures of Jessica''s mom so he knew who to look out for. If someone else answered the door, he would apologize for knocking on the wrong door and go somewhere else. Devon honestly thought that if he had the right place, they would know very quickly one way or another.


    As he crossed the sidewalk and began to walk up to the door, there seemed to be no activity. Once at the door, he looked back at Edgar who was in the truck and watching with a pair of binoculars. Point of no return, Devon thought to himself as he took a deep breath and then knocked on the door. It took a few moments, but someone finally came to the door and opened it. Mrs. Johnson was standing there in a robe looking up at the big man as he gave her his best smile to greet her.


    "Hello there." she said rather surprised, "Can I help you?"


    "Yes you can, love. I have a package here for a Ms. Drake." Devon said, as he read the name off the clipboard he had. Drake was the alias that Mrs. Johnson had used to purchase the necklace from Jerome a few days back. Devon again gave a warm smile as he tried to act as professional as he possibly could.


    "Oh my!" Mrs. Johnson said in complete shock as she realized what was going on, "That was very fast."


    "Well, we are the best in the nation for a reason." Devon said as he resented her with the clipboard, "I just need you to sign for it right here."


    Mrs. Johnson took the clipboard from Devon, and looked down at it. On the piece of paper wasn''t a form for her to sign but a blank piece of paper with a message written on it for her:


    Mom:


    This man was hired by me to find you.


    Do as he says because he''s here to take you home.


    See you soon,


    Jessica


    Mrs. Johnson looked at the message again. It was handwritten, and she could tell by the little things in the calligraphy that it was Jessica''s handwriting. She could hardly believe it, but the evidence was there staring her in the face. She looked back up at the man, not sure what to say.


    "Just sign on the part with the X beside it." Devon said out loud, keeping in character as long as he could. Mrs. Johnson was very confused and didn''t know what exactly the man was waiting for. Then she saw it and covered her mouth and backed away.


    "FREEZE!" a voice shouted from behind.


    "Put your hands on your head," another voice called out, "And drop to your fucking knees!"

 Chapter 36

    The two men sitting in the black ford had much better things to do on a Monday morning, but there they were. Hidden from view by the tinted windows, they sat there drinking coffee and munching on bagels while watching the house like they had been doing all week. They were the morning shift, the crew that took over just after the sun came up and went home nine to ten hours later just in time for supper. The didn''t like doing this kind of grunt work, but the boss paid them overtime rate for it because he understood what kind of work it was. The money was good to begin with so they guys did their job and kept their comments to themselves and took the extra green. Between sips the guys talked shop among other things to pass the time, but sometimes it was hard to keep awake but that''s what the caffeine and sugar products were for. To help them get through the long mornings.


    "Seriously Allen, I don''t know why we''re even here." one of them said while taking a big bite out of his onion bagel, "Mrs. Johnson is one of the best in the program. She doesn''t try to run, and the one time she did leave, she asked for permission from Angela. There''s no way she''s going to run on us, she''s awesome."


    "Shut your face, Davis." Allen muttered from behind the wheel, "She left without consent from Mr. Carlson and that''s why we''re here. So quit your bitching and just eat your donut."


    "It''s a bagel." Davis said as he took another bite, "I''m not allowed to have donuts. Wife says they are too fattening for me."


    "Like that bagel is any better." his partner responded as he took a sip of his own coffee. The two of them sat there and said nothing for a while. Allen was never really one to talk too much, and Davis had a habit of trying to talk his ear off with stupid questions about everything. Today was going to be no different.


    "I have a question for you." Davis started up again while sipping his own coffee, "Technically we work for the government, right?"


    "That''s right." Allen said, trying to resist an urge to break his partner''s nose.


    "But our own government doesn''t know anything about us or this project." Davis stated somewhat confused, "How can we work for someone who doesn''t even know we exist?"


    "There are some people in the government who know, jackass." Allen snapped back with little patience, "They are the ones who approve our budget that provide us with our living. This was approved from high up."


    "How high up are we talking here?" Davis asked, rather curious.


    "I honestly don''t know." Allen replied, "The only person who knows what officials are in charge is Mr. Carlson. He gets his orders from them and they are likely connected to every branch of the government, probably connected right to the frakin'' top."


    "Do you think the President knows about this?" Davis asked.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    "In order for that to be true the President would be required to have a clue, which he doesn''t. We all know who''s really in charge up there. The sooner you realize that, the better off you''ll be." Allen took another big sip of his coffee. He loved to down the thing while it was still hot enough to scald you. Anything less was too cold for his liking.


    "But doesn''t it make you a little curious?" Davis asked, " I mean wouldn''t you like to know who authorized all this and made it happen?"


    "We''re not paid to be curious." Allen reminded him, "I really wish you''d get off this crap, because it will only get you into trouble with the top brass. You make a good living, enjoy that and use it to raise that beautiful family of yours."


    "I know." Davis replied, completely understanding what Allen was saying, "I was just trying to pass the time. What do you prefer to talk about?" he asked eager to talk about anything.


    "Sports works for me." Allen retorted, "We can always converse about how your Cowboys got stomped out like a Narc at a biker rally."


    "Not really." Davis said, somewhat hurt when reminded about how poorly his team played that week.


    "Calm down, they might still make the playoffs." Allen said with a grin. He loved teasing the guy about his team, especially when they lost as badly as they had the night before.


    Davis never responded to Allen''s last comment. He was watching a priority delivery truck that had just parked across the street from the target. At first he assumed the person was there to deliver the box to the house it had parked in front of, but when the delivery man crossed the street, he tapped Allen on the shoulder.


    "What the hell is that?" Davis asked.


    "That''s just a package boy." Allen snapped back with a hint of sarcasm, "You get mail, don''t you?"


    "I do, but she isn''t supposed to." Davis said as he pointed out the fact that the delivery man was going to Mrs. Johnson''s house, "All of her mail is screened, there is no way someone gets this far with anything. We''re supposed to approve and deliver everything after it''s screened."


    "That''s true, which would mean..." Allen said trying to see where he was going with this.


    "Well." Davis started, "That means either this moron is hitting the wrong house or he''s an imposter trying to make contact with our resident!"


    It took a few seconds for it to dawn on Allen to what Davis was saying and he looked up at the package boy who was now knocking on Mrs. Johnson''s door.


    "Son of a bitch!" he cursed as he started to open the door.


    "Should we call in for backup?" Davis called as he opened his door.


    "No time!" Allen called as he started to run, "Let''s move!" The two men scrambled out of the car, and raced onto the front lawn. Once they got within fifteen feet, they pointed their side arms at the postage boy who was already speaking to Mrs. Johnson at the door.


    "Freeze!" Allen screamed as loud as he could.


    "Put your hands on your head and drop to your fucking knees!" Davis called as he also had his sidearm raised and ready to shoot.


    They expected a fight, but they were both surprised to see that the man was fully cooperative with them. He slowly raised his hands and placed them on his head. Then he slowly began to kneel, showing no signs of any resistance. This lack of fight gave Davis the impression that might have just been an innocent mistake. Maybe it was a package boy who had the wrong house and wasn''t there to see Mrs. Johnson. Yet as Davis was reaching for his cuffs, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. By the time he turned around to see what it was, it was already too late.

 Chapter 37

    Edgar watched as Devon did his best to look and act like every other delivery boy. The bait was set and he looked around the yards and driveways for any hint of someone who might take the bait. Edgar was no fool, he knew there was no way in hell packages or any other kind of mail would be delivered to a person in a relocation program without being screened first. So the mere presence of a package boy should set off some sort of alarm. At least that''s what he would do if he was trying to keep someone underground. The question is, are the people watching Mrs. Johnson just as paranoid or was Jerome finally getting to him? Edgar kept looking around, wondering if he would ever get what he was looking for. He didn''t have to wait long, as two men in rather cheap looking suits, scrambled out of a car that had heavily tinted windows and ran across the street and to where Devon was located. They didn''t even bother to try to talk to his partner as both men drew their weapons and ordered Devon to drop to his knees, which was all that Edgar needed to hear. He pounded the wall behind him.


    "This is it! Let''s go!" Edgar called out.


    Cyrus was in the back, as was his entire crew. His men darted out of the truck and started to quietly scramble onto the yard where the two men were standing. Devon was doing a great job to keep their attention. He co-operated with them by dropping to his knees but as they walked closer he started to talk to them, saying he was just a package boy and what not. This kept them oblivious of the men that were quietly approaching. Edgar watched from the truck as Cyrus was the one who finally broke the silence to inform the two suited men of his presence.


    "Freeze!" he bellowed as loud as he could, "I want your firearms on the ground and your arms as high as they will go, right now!"


    Edgar watched from a distance as the two men turned around to see how screwed they really were. Standing on the lawn behind them was fifteen heavily armed men, dressed in what could only be described as a full S.W.A.T gear and armed with some badass automatic weapons, complete with silencers. With faces masked, wearing full kevlar and helmets that made every one of them virtually bullet proof, the men in suits suddenly realized exactly what was going on: they had run headfirst into an ambush.


    "Federal agents!" Allen screamed as he held out a badge, "We are..."


    "I don''t care what you claim to be!" Cyrus called back from behind his mask, "If you do not drop your weapons in the next ten seconds, we will use reasonable force to take them from you. I''m not going to ask you again: either you drop the guns or we''ll drop you! Now!" when Cyrus has said ''now'', all fifteen men raised their weapons to eye level, and waited the word from Cyrus or action from their targets to authorize firing.


    The two suited men stood there like statues, not sure what to do. Eventually it was the elder of the two who made the first move. Allen raised a hand up, "Alright. We are dropping our side arms."


    "We are?" Davis said, not sure what to do.


    "Yes we are and that''s an order." Allen snapped back to Davis as he put the weapon on the ground. After Davis did the same, four of the men in front of them lowered their weapons and came forth while the other eleven stood there with guns still in the air, providing cover. Two of them grabbed the guns on the ground while two others two took the men into custody and cuffed them both with their hands behind their back.


    Allen didn''t seem impressed, "Do you have any idea what you have just done?" he spit out with a very harsh and annoyed tone.


    Cyrus walked over to the man and looked him right in the eyes, "I know exactly what I''m doing. My employer has paid a lot of money for the right to speak with you and I intend to deliver."


    Allen had no idea what the man was talking about until he finally saw a face that he recognized. Edgar Willis had gotten out of the delivery truck and walked over to survey the catch of the day. Even though he was dressed up like Devon was, the guys still recognized his face.


    "Son of a bitch." the elder agent muttered to himself as he saw the PI walk over to him.


    "So you do know me." Edgar said with a smile, chances are people watching Mrs. Johnson were shown his photo and told to look out for him, "Then I guess you know why I''m here, don''t you?"


    "You''re here to expose our operation!" Davis snarled at him.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "No, I''m not." Edgar said as he turned to face them both, "I''m here to bring it down like a house of cards. And you two are going to help me accomplish that goal."


    "We have no intention of co-operating." Allen said, trying to be as defiant as possible.


    "You should have thought about that before dropping your guns." Cyrus said as he waved the pistol in front of the two men, "Because now that we have you in custody, we are more than capable of making you talk. One way or another, you are going to give us what we want, pig."


    "You better let us go!" Davis called out, "We radioed for help and backup is on the way." He said in obvious desperation, trying to convince them to change their mind.


    "No, you didn''t." Edgar quickly replied, "Even if you wanted to call for help, you couldn''t. Before I sent my bait to the door, I made sure all channels were scrambled for a three block radius. We''ll be out of town before they even know you''re gone." he turned to face Cyrus, "Take them to the truck."


    As Cyrus'' men dragged the two agents off, Edgar walked over to the door and knocked on it gently. A few seconds later, the door opened. Mrs. Johnson and Devon had taken cover in the house during the standoff between the agents and Cyrus'' men. As Edgar walked in, Devon was all smiles but he could tell the old woman was very confused.


    "Mrs. Johnson?" Edgar asked.


    Her face brightened up. "I haven''t been called that in a while." she said, not sure what was going on.


    "Well it''s nice to finally meet you." Edgar said as he held out a hand, "My name is Edgar Willis. I''m a private investigator, and I''m here on behalf of your daughter who hired us to find you."


    The old woman started to tear up, she kept thinking this was all a dream and she was going to wake up from it and still be a prisoner, "Is this real?" she asked not sure what she was going to do.


    "Quite real, love." Devon said as he padded her on the shoulder, "And I hate to be a bugger, but we have to leave very, very soon. Get dressed and leave everything behind. We''re not sure how much time we''ve got before someone calls these blokes for a check in."


    "Thank you." she said as she disappeared into the other room to change.


    Edgar walked over to Devon, "You alright?"


    "I''m fine, mate." Devon said with a smile, "You do realize that finding Mrs. Johnson is going to go right to Jerome''s head. We''ll never going to hear the end of this."


    "That''s alright. We can afford to live with that." Edgar retorted as he looked around the house. He wondered how many items in the house were bugged and or running with cameras. He put a hand up to his mouth and then said out loud, "What do you think we should do with the bodies?" he asked suddenly, while at the same time making a gesture with his hands to let his partner know the place is likely bugged.


    Devon seemed to immediately catch on to what he was doing, and played along, "We got a little time. I say we toss them into the river. It''s only a few blocks from here." the two guys were smiling and doing their best to not laugh out loud as they kept talking and feeding false information to the bugs. A few moments later, Mrs. Johnson came out with a small bag packed. Edgar took the bag for her.


    "Ready to go?" he asked with a warm smile.


    "Of course." she quietly replied, trying to hold back her excitement.


    "Then let''s move." Edgar led her out the door to the truck that was now parked in the driveway and waiting for them. Mrs. Johnson took the seat Edgar had been using and Devon took the wheel again. Edgar sat behind them both as they pulled out and started to drive away. They drove for a while, everyone silent and not saying anything except for the noise in the back area.


    "I''m a federal agent!" Davis repeated, "You can''t do this to us!"


    Edgar pounded on the wall behind him, "Somebody shut him up!" he ordered to no one in particular. Moments later, they heard the familiar ripping sound of duct tape and little else but the odd muffle afterwards.


    "Much better." Devon said as he cut another corner and hit one of the main roads, "Just let me know when you want to pull over for the change. I suggest we wait until after passing that first service center on the highway. That stretch will lower suspicion."


    "I agree." Edgar conceded as he was back on the cell, trying to contact Jerome with news of the operation. No answer. Weird, Edgar thought to himself. He was a little concerned, but decided to think nothing of it for now.


    As they passed the station, Devon waited for an additional minute and then pulled over. Mrs. Johnson didn''t know what was going on, but the two men hopped out of the truck and proceeded to peel the delivery logos off the side of the truck. Cyrus came out of the back and did his part, taking the license plates off the back and replacing them with alternates. As Devon ripped the massive sticker off the side of the truck, it revealed a new cover for their getaway. Their parcel delivery truck was now a bread delivery truck. Edgar seemed pleased with this, and was on his way back into the truck when his cell phone went off. Eager to see if it was Jerome, he answered it before getting back into the truck, "Edgar Willis."


    "Edgar." the cheery old voice crackled on the other end, "I really hope you have a moment for a rich old fart like myself."


    "Sir Norsberg." Edgar answered as he took a few steps away from the truck, "It''s good to hear from you. In fact, your timing is impeccable."


    "Oh really." the old man replied with a playful tone, "Do you have a juicy update for me to chew on?"


    "We got her." Edgar reported with a small sense of pride and accomplishment, "Mrs. Johnson is in custody."

 Chapter 38

    Jerome knew he and Jessica were in big time trouble the moment their heads where covered. Even though this practice is strictly forbidden by international law and considered a form of sensory torture, it didn''t stop their captors from doing it anyway. He wasn''t a dummy and was well aware the real reason for the shrouds was to mask their approach to a location their captors didn''t want revealed. It was evident they were after Edgar and Devon and there was no telling what these people were going to do to them both, him especially, to obtain that Intel. During their ride over, he could hear Jessica squirming and yelling in the background and on a few occasions, he told her to knock it off. She was going to need her energy later, but any interrogation of her was useless. Jerome didn''t tell her anything about what Edgar and Devon were up to. She knew about the whole online auction part, but where they were going and what plan they had up their sleeve wasn''t exactly provided to her. Jerome knew a lot, and knew they were going to push him hard to make sure he split his guts and gave away everything. Jerome had no intentions of helping them, but only needed to know what time it was because once it was done, that information was no longer valuable. Chances are the operation they had on the go is likely already done.


    Once the vehicle they were in came to a stop. Jerome didn''t put up any fight and did his best to cooperate with his captives as much as possible. He walked when told to and stopped when commanded to. By his count, he took a little over seventy steps since getting off the truck and passed through four doors that required either a pass card or some voice authorization before finally being told to take a seat. While people were walking around the room and mumbling he took the time to use his foot to survey the texture of the floor. It was a smooth surface, and based on the grooves he was feeling, it was tile. Not a good sign. Not good at all.


    They were separated and likely in their own rooms, but Jerome did his best to keep his cool. There was no need to panic until his captors gave him a reason to do so. For all he knew, they were going to just sit down and have a conversation, in which he would do his best to stall and chit chat as long as possible. In the background he heard the door slam, and took that as a clue that they wanted to get started.


    "Hello?" he called out to no one in particular, "Is there anyone there?"


    He sat there in silence until a voice finally responded, "Are you going to co-operate with us Mr. Ryan?" the voice said with a rather calm tone.


    "I''m not sure." Jerome said rather honestly, "I have a hard time trusting someone I can''t see."


    "A good motto to live by." the man responded.


    Moments later the cloth covering his head was removed. Jerome couldn''t identify the man sitting at the other end of the table in front of him, but he seemed to be the man in charge. Jerome got this from the fact that his handcuffs were removed by the guards by a single gesture. He sat there for a moment, and the finally asked a question,


    "Do you plan to co-operate, Mr. Ryan?" he asked as second time.


    "Of course." Jerome said with a friendly smile, trying his best to remain calm, "I don''t want to cause any problems, Mr...."


    "Carlson." the man at the table responded quickly but a little too casual for his liking.


    Jerome likely suspected the name was an alias but it was something to go with, "Thank you, Mr. Carlson. I want to let you know that Jessica''s interrogation is pointless. She knows very little if anything about what Edgar is up to. The information she does know, I''m going to give you with very little if any resistance."


    "That''s very kind of you." Carlson responded, with a hint of disbelief, "If that''s true, I''ll make sure you both are taken care of during your stay."


    "And how long would that be?" Jerome asked, being a little playful.


    Carlson cracked a smile.


    "That isn''t known at this time." he said quietly, "But I''ll let you know when I obtain that information."


    Jerome could tell that he knew more than he was providing, but realized that this was a good pace to take, aware of what was going on out there. This was a pace that he could use to his advantage. He didn''t feel the need to give up too much until there they at least they insisted he co-operate. Right now they were in the courtship, as the two of them were trying to get to know one another before the real fun started. Jerome slouched back and did his best to relax.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "Is it all right if I have a glass of water?" Jerome asked.


    "Of course." Carlson made another gesture and one of the guards left the room and later returned with a bottle of rather fancy spring water. It was sealed so Jerome tore it open and took a slug, "I hope that''s to your satisfaction?"


    "It will do." Jerome said as then noticed the brand, "The best taxpayer''s money can buy?"


    "Only the best for our guests." Carlson responded with at smirk.


    "No complaints here." Jerome approved as he took another slug, "So I assume you''re the man in charge. I mean it''s pretty obvious with the respect your presence commands from the goons over there."


    "Very observant." Carlson said as he played along, "It''s such a shame I have no need for a forensics expert on my team, you''re a bright one from what I''ve gathered from your file."


    "Coming from someone as secretive as yourself, I''ll take that as a compliment." it was going pleasant, so Jerome decided to test the waters, "So you''re also the person in charge of this re-location project?"


    "I have no idea what you''re talking about?" Carlson evasively responded.


    "Ah, come on..." Jerome said as he took a more casual posture, "This isn''t something to hide. I happen to think it''s one of the most brilliant projects ever designed and executed."


    "Is it now?" Carlson said.


    "Of course it is!" Jerome added, "I mean there are so many people needed to make this work, normally it''s a breeze to find a dozen people to trust, but to get hundreds is truly amazing. I mean the fact that no one has leaked this to the press or tried to expose it is incredible. You sir run a tight ship and deserve all the credit for holding it together, especially for this long."


    "Thank you." Carlson conceded, not really giving anything away.


    "I''m just getting started!" Jerome chirped with excitement, "The FBI runs a witness relocation program but get to apply for as much funds as they need on a yearly basis. The fact that you can run that same program secretly with a tight budget has to be nothing short of a miracle, especially when you''re dealing with at least over a hundred people."


    "Two hundred and sixty-six." Carlson quickly corrected, feeling a little proud of the accomplishment.


    Jerome paused for a moment, trying to calculate the information he was just given, "Flight 77 only had fifty-nine passengers and a few more if you include stewards and pilots. If you have over two hundred and fifty people that would mean the other flights were also..."


    Carlson interrupted Jerome by slamming an open hand into the table.


    "I think we need to change the subject." he seemed a little disturbed that he let his ego get the best of him, "What I prefer to talk about right now would be the location Edgar Willis and what he''s up to."


    "I''m not aware of where he is, but it doesn''t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he''s doing." Jerome said trying to answer and yet not answer his question at the same time.


    "And what exactly would that be?" Carlton asked, now getting somewhat annoyed.


    "He''s looking for Mrs. Johnson." Jerome said, "We were hired by Jessica to find her and bring her home."


    "So you don''t deny looking for a dead woman. Don''t you feel bad taking money from this young woman to look for a ghost?" Carlson casually stated.


    "If she''s a ghost and I''m wasting my time and her money, " Jerome started, "Then what the hell am I doing here? What is your interest in my activities? You can''t tell me this some secret branch of the better business bureau?" Carlson wasn''t biting this time, so Jerome continued, "Our job is to first determine if she was alive or not. Our goal was to either prove or disprove her story. Edgar thought finding her alive would save a little time and money, so he was determined to work with the assumption that she was still around and kicking." Jerome tossed the now empty bottle into the trash can by the door.


    "Were you successful?" Carlson asked, playing along.


    "That depends." Jerome answered, now being a little evasive himself.


    "Depends on what?" one of the goons at the door barked, tired of the word games that were likely giving his pea sized brain a inklings of a major migraine.


    "On what time it is right now." Jerome responded, knowing what kind of reaction it would get. One of the first things the goons took away from him was his watch, so for a while now he had no concept of time. That lack of time had ended with the beginning of his interrogation. One of the other reasons why Jerome suspected that Carlson was in charge of this outfit was the presence of a fancy gold plated Rolex on man''s left wrist. If Jerome was reading the clock correctly, even from his upside down view, it was close to five in the afternoon. If that time on his wrist was right, Edgar and Devon should have had enough time to at least hit two of the three locations they had agreed to hit today. If one of them was the right target, they should be the hell out of dodge by now if all went according to plan.


    "Nice watch." Jerome said, "Is it real?"


    Despite the cloud of doubt that hung over the two goons at the door, Carlson quickly figured out what Jerome was up to this whole time: delay. He had been stalling since minute number one and was covering up for some sort of operation that was being executed at this exact moment. Carlson immediately scrambled from his chair and vacated the room, obviously going to check up on the status of Mrs. Johnson and make sure everything was all right. Just the panic he left the room in was enough to confirm to Jerome that he and Edgar were on the right trail; Mrs. Johnson was indeed alive. Hopefully Edgar and the guys were out of town, because Jerome was pretty sure the alarm was being set off right now, so they had little or no time left to make their escape.

 Chapter 39

    There was a long silence at the other end of the phone. Edgar was well aware of the bomb he just dropped on the old man. Hopefully his heart would handle it so they could discuss it further. Norsberg, as the PI could tell, was a man of many words so to keep him so silent for this long was quite a feat. Edgar was a little surprised how long it was taking the old man to respond. This was, after all the result he was paying him to achieve. Perhaps it was the speed of his discovery that made it so surprising. He must have expected Edgar to look around for months, maybe even come back with his hand out for additional funds before coming back with an actual result.


    "Can you confirm her identity?" he finally asked when he was able to regain himself.


    "Not officially, but she did admit to being the person we''re looking for. It''s something to go with for now." Edgar quickly consulted his watch, "I''m going to get Jerome to look into official finger printing and maybe some DNA testing when we get back, which we could start in a few hours now."


    "That was actually the reason for my call." Norsberg suddenly interrupted, "Your hideaway above the Thai restaurant has been exposed and raided. It''s no longer a secure option."


    "How do you know this?" Edgar asked, stunned by this revelation.


    "After what happened with poor Mr. Tuck, I made sure your new locale was staked out so that I could help in anyway I could." Norsberg responded with a sigh, "Unfortunately, there were too many bad guys at your base for us to risk trying to go in to save your people."


    "What happened to them?" Edgar demanded, his temper getting the best of him.


    "They''ve been arrested. Your computer geek was smart enough to make sure he was apprehended in public, so he and Ms. Johnson are in custody. I have a feeling their safety is more than guaranteed now that you have one of their relocated passengers in your possession." The old man said, processing the situation, "Right now you have the bigger bargaining chip, gamble with them wisely my boy."


    "I''ll do my best." Edgar replied, "We''re obviously going to find another location to camp out. I''ll get in contact with you when we''re settled in."


    Edgar closed the phone. As he walked back to the truck, he kicked the side of the truck about have a dozen times in complete frustration. Devon jumped out of the truck, and walked up,


    "Headquarters has been compromised," Edgar informed his driver. "They''ve arrested Jerome and Jessica."


    "I know." Devon said, not surprised, "Moth was out getting a slice of pizza when it happened; she called me over an hour ago."


    "And when were you going to enlighten me with that particular development?" Edgar asked, obviously angered by his holding out.


    "Well, I was just going over that right now." Devon admitted, "It was going to be on the road, definitely before we dropped off Cyrus and his men."


    "Well thanks for filling me in. This changes everything!" Edgar was furious as he took another swift kick into the side of the truck.


    Suddenly the door to the back opened and slammed rather quickly. Cyrus, obviously confused by the pounding sounds on the side of the truck, came out with a mean look on his face.


    "What the hell is going on out here?" Cyrus snapped, eager to express a little frustration of his own.


    "Our location has been compromised." Edgar replied. He paused for a moment and came up with an idea, "We''re gonna have to stash these people at your place for a while."Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    "Whoa!" Cyrus yelled, someone surprised, "You can''t bring those people there! Give me one good reason why I should let you harbor what might be kidnapped federal agents at my compound?"


    Edgar could tell by the look on his face that Devon couldn''t believe what he was hearing. Cyrus was usually a pretty stand up guy when it came to helping out a bud, so to hear him with just an ounce of doubt was disturbing. Edgar on the other hand wasn''t in the mood to argue about it.


    "Just one?" Edgar asked, "I can give you seven hundred and fifty thousand reasons why you should be a good host and welcome us into your home. Comprede, kemosabe?"


    Cyrus paused for a moment to ponder the offer. Edgar had just tripled his original fee in exchange for shelter for him, his crew and prisoners. Chances are if their stay were an extended one, Cyrus could also milk more money out of his very loaded financier. It was a lot of money, but as he was thinking about it the decision was made for him when there was a chorus of knocks originating from inside the truck. It seems the crew was very interested and wanted to take the offer.


    Cyrus took a deep breath and nodded, "Alright, but I''m driving from here on. No one will let you near the gate unless I''m behind the wheel."


    "We''re going to straight to the compound now?" Devon responded, slightly confused, "Shouldn''t we go back to the rendezvous where we all met up in the first place?"


    "No." Cyrus quickly snapped back as he took the keys from Devon.


    "He''s right," Edgar agreed, "With Jerome in custody, that location could be compromised as well. Going to Cyrus'' place was never part of the plan, so going straight there will be the best course of action for now. That will give us a moment to get our bearings and come up with a new plan."


    "Don''t worry about the rendezvous, bud." Cyrus said as he strolled over to the driver''s side of the truck, "I don''t care about that old clunker anyway. I never take a good vehicle to a meeting point for this exact reason. The car is clean and untraceable. If Edgar''s side has been compromised, it''s best we abandon the original plan and move right on to plan B. I want that money wired to my account ASAP."


    Edgar nodded, "I can take care of it the minute we get there." he made a motion to Devon, "Hop in the back for now. We want to keep the lady and the two detainees apart for the time being. Devon did as he was told and a hopped into the back of the truck with the rest of the men. A few moments later, Cyrus took the wheel and Edgar sat back down beside Mrs. Johnson. Once they were back on the road and moving towards their new destination, Edgar turned to face Mrs. Johnson and break the bad news.


    "I''m sorry about this," Edgar started, "But there''s been a change in plans. Your reunion with Jessica is going to be delayed."


    "For how long?" She asked, obviously a little disappointed.


    "I''m thinking a day, maybe two." Edgar said, trying to be as honest as he could. He was not sure if he would even be able to contact the people who have Jessica much less negotiate for her release. This was going to be a very sticky situation to get through.


    "That''s alright." she responded with a warm smile, "It''s been over five years, another day or two isn''t too bad. Just the hope you''ve brought to me today will be enough to help me get through."


    "Thanks." Edgar said as he used his arm to give her a half hug. Considering what she''s been through this must be very liberating for her, "Try to stay under the limit. The last thing we want to do is draw... oh, shit!" Edgar leaned forward to look at the sight that took his attention. Coming in the opposite direction were several black cars, all with flashing lights on top of them to indicate their authority, screaming down the highway. Edgar rolled down the window and stuck his head out to watch them fade into the background and disappear, "Damn, they''re hauling ass."


    "First response?" Cyrus said with a nervous tone.


    "Seems reasonable to me, especially since they''re in a hurry to get to where they''re going." Edgar said still watching, "I think they''re on their way to the house to find out why their men are not responding."


    "That''s not surprising." Cyrus said, "We should assume that they picked up a call from one of the people in the neighborhood. I''m sure one of them called in concerned about our little Mexican standoff."


    Cyrus kept checking the mirror to his left to make sure none of those lights turned around to follow them. Once he was sure there was no one coming, he picked up a little speed to get to his highway exit as quickly as possible.


    "How long will it take for us to get to the compound?" Edgar asked, now a little concerned for time.


    "It''s not too far from here. An hour, two tops." Cyrus answered, but he was determined to cut that down as fast as possible. He knew the area and the speed traps so that wouldn''t be a problem.He was a little iffy about taking them to the compound, but his history with Edgar was always kept hush hush so it would be hard for the man to link him to the PI. Security was never going to be an issue as well, so Cyrus was confident he was in control for the time being and sped closer to their new destination and towards his now much heftier payday.

 Chapter 40

    Mr. Carlson didn''t like the reference Jerome used to describe his operation. He referred it to a ship that he was running like a captain. A better metaphor would have been to compare it to a house of cards. It''s a house that he''s been balancing for quite some time, and if one of those cards was removed, chaos was the result. It was something he had to forget for now as he got more details concerning what was going on. He paged his superiors with a code red less than a half hour ago and was waiting for their arrival. The last and only other time he made this alert was when one of the prisoners tried to escape and then contacted someone he knew in the press. He had already predicted that move and paid off the reporter to get his co-operation. So when the escapee attempted to make the call to report his situation, it was traced and he was apprehended that same day. It took less than forty-eight hours to bring him back in, but he wasn''t so sure this time out. Edgar was no dummy and he was going to do what ever it took to avoid his men and get what he wanted.


    Carlson was sure about one thing: as long as he had Jessica and Jerome in his custody, Edgar wasn''t going to risk taking Mrs. Johnson to the press at the moment. He was going to have to find a way to contact Mr. Willis and try to work something out. Not only did Mrs. Johnson know a lot about the operation, the two agents watching the house knew even more. He had to get all three back to contain the situation. Carlson walked into a command center that was buzzing like a bee hive with agents on the phones, talking to contacts and trying to obtain as much information as possible. Carlson walked up to the front of the room and stationed himself in front of the main information screen.


    "I need your attention, please." The people in the room slowly stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to Carlson who had the floor.


    "As of right now, we are on full alert." He reminded everyone, "It''s one thing to have a resident disappear or attempt to run away, but as of right now this is our first kidnapping. Someone has stolen one of our residents with the sole intention of exposing our operation. Not only is the resident in their custody, eye witness accounts from the neighbors also indicate that two of our men watching the house have been taken as well. That''s three of our people in someone else''s custody. This is unacceptable! I want them found within the day and apprehended within forty-eight hours. Now let''s make this happen!"


    After addressing the room, he walked back into his office as the chatter and work seemed to intensify and buzz louder than before. The people were working the problem and were going to keep working 24/7 to appease him and his superiors. After taking a seat in his office, Mr. Smith followed him in, eager to share something with them.


    "I need to pass something by you." Smith quickly spit out.


    "What did you have on your mind?" Carlson said, trying to relax.


    "Well, what gets to me is the kind of manpower Willis used to apprehend our men." Smith said, as he seemed to be on a roll. "The neighbors all state there were at least a dozen men, fully armed to the teeth and wearing full body gear. There''s only one way he could have done that. Mercenaries. Not just any kind either. People he knows and has likely done business with before. He wouldn''t trust this operation to just anyone."


    "I agree." Carlson concurred, "Look into Willis'' records again and search for someone that he''s worked with that has both the manpower and the balls to pull something like this off. That should narrow the field for us."


    "I''ll get right to it." Smith responded as he closed his book pad and left the room.


    Carlson took a few chill pills and tried his best to relax, until his phone buzzed. He picked it up, "Hello? Yes, of course. I''ll be right there."The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Carlson stood up, buttoned his jacket and then strolled through the door at the back of his office. It led to a secret chamber where three men were sitting and waiting for him to arrive. It had been less than forty five minutes since the page went out to all three of Mr. Carlson''s superiors. As he entered the room for their briefing, he was unsure how they would react to the news. They didn''t seem impressed being called away from whatever they were doing, but seemed concerned since Carlson rarely if ever set off this alarm.


    The three men were sitting there, waiting for Carlson to get things rolling, "Report." one of them spit out just to make sure the meeting would start sooner than later.


    "Around two this afternoon, someone disguised as a currier delivery man arrived to one of the homes of our residents." Carlson started, seeing if anyone would catch on, "As you are all well aware, we screen all incoming and outgoing mail. So anyone showing up at their door would be an imposter since we hand deliver all mail ourselves."


    "Who was this person?" one of his superiors quickly asked.


    "We are not sure, but highly suspect he was working for a private investigator that was hired to locate this particular resident. You received the report I filed about Edgar Willis last week. We suspect this man was working for him." Carlson waited for a few moments to let his bosses digest the information they were receiving.


    "What happened next?" One of the other men asked, not even looking up from the report he was reading.


    "The two agents assigned to watch the house attempted to apprehend the man, aware that his disguise was a hoax. The delivery boy was a decoy. According to witnesses who lived in the neighborhood, there was a group of heavily armed men inside the back of the delivery truck, waiting for our agents to attempt their apprehension." Carlson paused for a moment to take a sip from a glass of water, "It was an ambush."


    "So their intent was to kidnap our people?"


    "I don''t think it was their prime objective." Carlson denied fairly confidently, "Obtaining our resident was their goal, so getting our men in the process was likely a bonus. I believe they suspected there was surveillance and prepared for it. There''s the possibility they took our men merely to prevent them from calling in for backup too quickly. There''s a chance we may find them dropped off somewhere soon if they are no longer needed."


    "I highly doubt that." One of his superiors concluded.


    Carlson looked over to the corner at the person who made that statement, "What makes you say that?"


    The old man didn''t look back up but shared his thoughts, "If this Willis fellow did take our people and the resident, do you think he''ll let them go when he finds out that his own people have been taken?"


    Carlson thought about it, "If he finds out before he disposes of them, then I doubt it. He''ll keep them and use them for a trade, which brings us to what I think is the quickest way to get this situation under control. If this abduction was indeed conducted by Edgar Willis, who is our top suspect at this point, the two people we apprehended earlier today can be used as trade bait. I have a feeling that as long as we have his people here, he will not take what he has to the press and attempt to use the people he has to negotiate the release of his own people."


    "A trade?" one of them said, now looking back up in utter shock, "Your idea to get our people back is a trade?"


    "Prisoner exchanges have always been a good, quick and covert way to get people back that we don''t want in enemy hands." Carlson explained, "It''s worked for the military for decades, so it''s a strategy that I think will work for us as well. Willis might have more chips than we do right now, but we still have something to bargain with. In my opinion, it''s the best way to get our people and the resident back with the lowest risk to the organization."


    The men didn''t seem too keen on the idea but didn''t protest.


    "Proceed for now." one of the men said as he closed his briefing folder, "Open a negotiation with Willis and try to track him at the same time. If you are successful in organizing a trade, go with it and try to use that to apprehend everyone. But above all else, get this fixed. We''ll take our recommendations to our superiors. We''ll inform you of any changes should they be passed down from above. Understood?"


    "Perfectly." Carlson acknowledged as he watched the three men stand up and file out of the room. This was as close as he would get to the people who were in charge of the operation. Sometimes he got curious about who really was at the top but gave in to the logic that it was best he never find out. Deniability is a beautiful thing...

 Chapter 41

    It took them a little under an hour to drive back to Cyrus'' compound. That was the best word to describe the camp that he called home. It was surrounded by a menacing fence that was garnished in barbed wire, and was likely hooked up to a generator as well just for an added electrical touch. Inside the fence were several large houses, all of which were connected underground which was the biggest marvel of Cyrus'' crib. There was a compound twice as big as any house underground that was the location of Cyrus'' main operations. He didn''t do anything illegal, but was a mercenary for hire for almost any job. A lot of his thugs kept busy with the bounty hunter business, but he also was for hire for security as well as an assortment of other jobs for a man of his talents. Edgar knew that he also took jobs from other countries, but was careful to do nothing that would piss off Uncle Sam. It was evident from the manpower and size of the compound that business was good for Cyrus and he was prospering rather well. He was taking a big risk bringing him and his prisoners to his home, but there was a chance that this was likely the safest place for them to be right now anyway. It would take a small army to penetrate the gates of this place, let alone find the underground hideaway. For now, it was perfect.


    Mrs. Johnson was shown to Cyrus'' personal house and welcomed by his wife. The women chattered up a storm and seemed alright to leave alone for the time being. Edgar was more interested in his prisoners and what intel they might be able to retrieve from them. Both agents were frisked for any kind of devices and then escorted to a holding cell that was located in the belly of the underground compound. Both Edgar and Devon had expressions of awe as they realized how advanced this place really was. The rent Edgar was going to pay to stay there for a while was going to be worth it. He was going to be able to get a lot of work done from this very secure location. Cyrus opened the door to his cells, and gestured for everyone to walk through first.


    "All the comforts of home." he said with dry sarcasm as both agents were escorted into the area.


    One of the agents fought a bit and struggled, but was dragged into the area. Edgar whispered some instructions to one of Cyrus'' men and he immediately complied, tossing one of the men into a cell and locking the door. The other was dragged to a different room and then tied down to a chair. Devon had been looking forward to this for a while, and Edgar who really didn''t like to get his hands dirty was more than happy to let Devon take over from here and get things underway. With the younger agent taped to a chair and clearly unable to move, Devon closed the door behind him to give them a little privacy. Edgar and Cyrus were behind a one way mirror in the hallway watching with interest.


    "Should we order a pizza?" Edgar said, trying to ease the tension of the moment.


    "Gail''s has got something special planned for tonight. It''s not often she gets to cook for guests." Cyrus said as he tossed a cold beer over to Edgar. They both watched with eager anticipation as the interrogation began.


    While eager to have his hands on one of the people that might have connections to the people responsible for the death of some of his crew, Devon wasn''t going to rush this one bit. He casually walked closer to the table and took off his coat. He changed in the back of the truck while on the way to the compound and was no longer wearing the brown delivery boy outfit and was very comfortable and ready to start. He causally strolled over and tore the piece of duct tape that had been keeping the agent silent this whole time. The agent gave out a yelp of pain to having the tape torn off and was about to say something, but Devon held up a hand to cut him off.


    "You''ve had some time to think during our ride over here." Devon said pacing around the room, "But I want you to think a little more. Think hard about what you say here because the words you speak will determine whether or not you''re going to get out of this hole alive. The more you co-operate with me, the less likely I am to lose my temper. The less likely I am to lose my temper, the better chance you have of not leaving this compound in a body bag."


    "You can''t do this to us!" the young man screamed, "I work for the government!"


    "Really?" Devon said, eager to explore that a little more, "What agency are you a part of?"


    The young man didn''t respond, so Devon continued.


    "We checked your wallet and combed through it for any kind of identification, but found none." Devon continued, "You claim to be a federal agent when you tried to arrest me, but have no legal identification. Who do you work for? F.B.I? C.I.A? Secret Service?"


    The agent didn''t answer again. He was stone cold silent and not participating in this line of questioning. Devon was having a little fun, but his patience was beginning to thin just a little bit at this point.


    "Your honor," he called out sarcastically, "Permission to treat the witness as hostile."


    Edgar paused for a moment. He didn''t want to go this far, but it was obvious the young man wasn''t going to give any information without a little coaxing. He softly tapped very slowly on the glass twice, the soft tap indicating to Devon that he was to treat his guest very gently during this part of the interrogation. With permission granted, Devon quickly turned around and whacked the young agent on the side of the head with hard open handed slap. Before the prisoner could get a chance to breathe, Devon slapped him again with another open hand across his other cheek, leaving a sick read hand print on his face.


    "These are just love taps, brother" Devon said as slapped the agent again upside the head and then he quickly grabbed an hand full of the agent''s hear and pulled his head back, "It''s going to get a lot rougher very soon if you don''t start talking! Spill it! What Agency do you work for?"


    The agent didn''t expect things to get rough so quickly, but if this was how much his hand hurt when open, he didn''t even want to think about how bad it was going to feel when he started to close it.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    "I don''t work for an agency." the young agent finally said, "I was recruited out of Treasury, likely because of my record. That''s how they get their numbers, through various agencies, with promises of more money and a chance to get a head of the other peons. We''re never told what branch we work for and are told very little, if anything."


    "What exactly is your job? What do they pay you to do?" Devon then demanded as he let go of the agent''s hair.


    "Right now I''m a part of relocation program." The kid answered, "Our job is to watch specific residents and make sure they live regular lives and not try to make any contact with their past. We work pretty much like the FBI program, only more secretly."


    "Where do these ''residents'' come from?" Devon asked, trying to dig a little deeper. They had a good idea what he was doing, but wanted to hear it from him.


    "I don''t know." the agent replied.


    "Don''t even think about lying to me, piggy." Devon snarled, with a look that gave the young agent every impression that he was going to beat him silly. He then startled the kid but dropped a fist into the table, denting it.


    "I''m not lying." he retorted, "I''m never given details over who I watch. They just give a name and an address. From there I just do what I''m told."


    Devon got some answers, but not the ones he was looking for. He paced around again for a few moments, "Let''s try something you would know. How long have you been working for these people?"


    The agent tried the silent treatment again, but Devon grabbed his hair and yanked his head back.


    "How fucking long!" he screamed with a fist up in the air ready to strike with a closed fist for the first time.


    "Eight years!" the agent called out, "That''s actually not long compared to many of the people there, they don''t recruit anymore these days unless absolutely necessary."


    It was at this point when the door opened and Edgar walked into the room. He strolled over to the table and sat down in the chair across from the agent, "Eight years? That''s a long time to be a part of an agency you don''t know anything about. But this also means you were working for these people when the big event happened."


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about." the agent responded.


    "Don''t lie to me you sniveling little maggot!" Devon said and he slapped the agent in the head with another open hand, "Everyone knows where they were that day. I want you to recount that day for us, minute by minute, right fucking now!"


    "I don''t remember." the agent said as he split out a little blood as it seems that he bit his lip when Devon slapped him around.


    "Now I know you''re lying." Edgar replied as he leaned back into his seat, "Everyone remembers were they were that morning. I could go upstairs and ask everyone up there and they''ll spit out it like it happened yesterday. I remember where I was when it happened, and my memory is shit. That morning I was sleeping in because I had been up the night before. My wife was eating breakfast and looking for the weather network. What caught her attention while surfing for her channel was that a lot of channels were showing the same thing at the exact same time, so she stopped on one of the channels to see what the fuss was all about. This is when she saw the second plane hit the north tower, live on network television. She was stunned for a few moments, but then went to the bedroom to wake me up. I remember her shaking me awake that morning. I was grumpy and was demanding to know what the hell was going on to justify waking me from my slumber. She tried to explain that a plane hit the World Trade Center and the first thing I thought was she must have meant a small two-seater plane or something. She corrected me and said it was a passenger jet liner and that the building was on fire. From there I scrambled to my feet and went into the living room to see it for myself. We both sat there and watched it all happen and then kept watching the news for the rest of the day in stunned silence, not saying a word to each other. I know where I was that day, I''m sure he does too. Where were you?"


    The agent was silent again, and Devon slammed a hard fist into the table to loosen his tongue, "I was in Washington." he said rather casually.


    "And what were you doing in the capital that day?" Edgar asked, moving along.


    "Man, for you guys that day must have been like the friggin'' Superbowl. I want to know where you were and what you were doing that day. Spill it!" Devon screamed as he made a gesture that gave the agent the impression that more pain was on the way.


    The agent made no sound and was preparing himself for another hit. Edgar held Devon back for just a moment, "We know one thing. That lady up there that we took with us today, her name is on this list." Edgar pulled a piece of paper from his jacket, "Her name is on this manifest, which is the official list of all passengers who were on Flight 77 that allegedly crashed into the Pentagon. How is that you''re pulling guard duty for a woman that was declared dead on Nine Eleven?"


    The agent said nothing, and for his silence Devon rewarded him with another solid punch in the ribs. The agent groaned and moaned for a moment but still said nothing. Edgar was getting a little tired of this. He took Devon by the hand and walked over to the corner of the room, "Dinner is in about fifteen to twenty minutes from now. Try to get some more Intel for the next five to ten minutes and then clean up for supper. We''ll bring him something after and try to be nice to him next. Alright?"


    Devon nodded in agreement. Even though he had been rough with the agent, he was actually holding back the aggression he had for the person who was likely a part of the group that took his people out. Before he moved away, Edgar grabbed his arm again.


    "Don''t hit him," Edgar whispered. "Take a temper tantrum, make him think he''s about to make his maker but bluff. Scare him into thinking you''re about to snap, but don''t harm him. Ok?"


    "Oh, come on. How about a rib or two?" Devon begged, hoping for a break. Edgar knew that Devon was holding back his real rage over the men he lost at the fire. Didn''t take a fool to realize a little arm twisting would be necessary to get the details the needed.


    Edgar wasn''t a fool. He realized a long time ago that in order to get some of the information both men wanted to get, a little force was going to be needed. Even if you can''t be charged for torturing a man who doesn''t exist, he didn''t like the idea.


    "I know this guy could be part of the group that hurt our people and a hell of a lot more people in Washington," Edgar explained, "But that doesn''t condone torture. We''ve already crossed the line too much already. Just because these guys did something wrong doesn''t give us a blank cheque to toss stuff like compassion, respect and even the Geneva Convention out the window. We''re better than that. Understood?"


    Devon knew he was right and he nodded. Edgar padded him on the back and let him go back to work. As Edgar left the room he could hear Devon scream and roar, but no sounds of smacks or hits. It was a good bluff but if it didn''t work, Edgar was hoping his good cop would after supper.Even if Devon did get carried away, which he was sure he wouldn''t since Devon followed orders most of the time, Edgar didn''t feel too bad about what was going on as he went back up to the ground floors to join Cyrus and Mrs. Johnson in the main house.

 Chapter 42

    Jerome has been in the room for what seemed like days, but was more likely to be a few measly hours since Carlson left the room in such a hurry. The young man was being watched by two large, menacing bodyguards who were each standing on one side of the door. Jerome got tired of sitting on the chair and was sitting on the floor with his back to the corner of the room. He sat in a specific corner so that it was impossible for anyone looking through the two way mirror to see him. He sat there thinking about what he was going to say next. Since this Carlson fellow hasn''t returned for a while, it was evident that Edgar has pulled off the big shocker, and likely stolen one of their people. He wondered if the part Devon came up with worked as well, but he would likely find out about that later. Jerome turned his attention to the two men who were watching the door and likely looking at him through their cheesy, bono wannabe sunglasses. Without looking either in the eye, he asked them a pretty casual question.


    "Do you guys have any idea how much time you''ll do in prison if the public ever found out about this operation?" he called out to them, not caring which one would reply.


    Neither of the men guarding him responded to his question, and Jerome suddenly knew that he had his work cut out for him. If he was going to get under their skin, he was going to have to crank his annoyance up as high as he could, maybe even to eleven.


    "I''m pretty sure you guys are aware of what''s going on here," Jerome continued, "You wouldn''t be guarding me if you weren''t pretty deep into the operation and its details. How many people did you take into custody that day? How many people were actually relocated? Are the more uncooperative residents currently in a secret prison, or did you put a cap into their heads and put them six feet under?"


    "That''s enough." one of the guards snarled, as he was no longer interested in listening to anything Jerome had to say. It was a response that only gave Jerome the fuel to keep pushing.


    "Not a single person has died as a direct result of this operation." the other said, "And that''s all we''re going to say about this."


    "Oh, that''s total Bullshit." Jerome defiantly charged, as he stood up but remained in his corner of the room. "I''m willing to bet you guys probably know who killed Tuck and his people back at Edgar''s office. So don''t give me that no one got hurt crap cause it''s just total garbage!"


    This time the two guards stood silent and didn''t respond. It was clear to Jerome they were beginning to regret saying anything in the first place.


    "Then again," Jerome carried on, "Neither of you can tell me your operation wasn''t responsible for the deaths of those people who died in the Pentagon. Sure you guys did your best to make sure there was no one in that wing when that cruise missile hit, but there was someone there. Someone tried their best to have the wing sealed off for renovations, but not everyone heeded the warning. There is a lot of blood on your hands, much more than you could ever imagine."


    Jerome started to walk closer to the guards, and he could tell at least one of them was starting to tense up. He was getting to them.


    "What about the countless troops who have died overseas?" Jerome asked. "That''s thousands of our brothers and sisters in arms who made the ultimate sacrifice for a pointless war that has done nothing but stuff the pockets of the party fat cats. The politicians at the top used your actions to lead those brave men and women to their death. I''m sure you guys use that whole ''no one died during the operation'' line so that you can sleep at night, but the results of your actions have killed tens of thousands of innocent lives, possibly hundreds of thousands if you believe some websites. I''m not even including the harm you guys have done based on the rights people have lost since the attacks. Every single security law that trampled on our god given rights and the constitution is also your fault, because you gave those bastards on the hill all the clout they needed to pass shit laws like the patriot act. People are being arrested and held without due process for months and even years while being declared enemy combatants. During this time they are never told what crime they committed and have no access to a lawyer, due process, or a fair trial. All this stuff is your fucking fault! Your actions against this nation, which by the way is nothing short of treason, has harmed this country more than any real terrorist attack ever could. We all put our hands on our hearts at a school and took the same pledge of allegiance to this nation, the same nation you turned your backs on the day you scared New York and Washington. You betrayed this nation and are traitors! You should all hang from the gallows for what you''ve done!"


    "Shut up, you little shit!" one of the guards barked as he finally snapped.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The big guy walked over and grabbed Jerome by the shoulders, dragged him to the other side of the room, and slammed him up against the wall with force. The impact against the wall hurt a great deal, but Jerome only smiled back as he knew a nerve was hit with those comments. The other guard tried to break things up, but he wasn''t strong enough as the bigger guard kept slamming Jerome''s back into the wall.


    Three more men, who were obviously watching from the other room behind the mirror came running into the room and were able to when working together peel the big guard off Jerome. He hit the floor with an uncomfortable thud and wheezed a bit for a few seconds as they dragged the guard as he screamed obscenities at him and threatened to kick the crap out of him too. The other guard turned back and gave Jerome a mean look as he struggled to get back to his feed


    "Shut the hell up," the other guard told him, "I''ll shoot you dead where you stand. Understood?"


    Jerome was still a little dazed, but nodded his acknowledgement. It was this point where Mr. Carlson opened the door and walked in.


    "Hey boss man," Jerome called out as he made a small waving motion that brought a little pain to his lower back.


    "I see you had a few words with the guards." Carlson said as he motioned for the other guard to resume his duties outside the room.


    "We were just talking politics," Jerome said, as he hobbled over and took a seat. His stay had been rather pleasant, but he kind of regretted provoking the guards like that as he winced a bit in pain. It was still totally worth it in his books. Chances are things were not going to get any better for him either. When Mr. Carlson returned to the seat he was sitting at not too long ago, Jerome could tell that he wasn''t in a good mood to begin with. This gave the young man the impression that Edgar and Devon''s crazy plan must have worked. The target and likely a few extras were caught and this is where the real fun was going to begin. Jerome used his time alone to come up with a plan to how he was going to work with his captors in the event the plan was a success. Chances are they were going to try to use him and Jessica as bargaining chips and the best way to avoid being worked over was to help Carlson get in touch with Edgar. The sooner those two started talking, the less likely they were going to question Jessica and himself over where he was. Jerome patiently waited for Carlson to ask the obvious first question.


    "Do you have any idea where I can find Edgar Willis?" Carlson said, pretty confirming what anyone knew was going to be the first question.


    "Fraid not," Jerome said, rather honestly, "The original plan was for Edgar and Devon to break ties at a certain location and then return back to me and Jessica at the location above the Thai restaurant. Now that our hideaway in the city is gone, I''m sure Edgar changed all his plans just in case either of us talked. That''s way asking either of us is pointless. However, I would like to do what I can to help you get in contact with him."


    "Is that so?" Carlson said, surprised by this offer to help.


    "Absolutely." Jerome replied as he held out his hand, "Pass over my cell phone and I''ll hook you two up. The sooner you two start talking, the sooner my ass gets negotiated outta here."


    "You are a bright one," Carlson said with a smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled out Jerome''s cell phone. He tossed it over, "Make the call."


    "In a second." Jerome countered as he put the phone down on the table, "I have a few requests of my own before I help you out."


    "You''re not really in much of a position to make demands." Carlson snapped back obviously a little impatient since he was so close to speaking with his true adversary. He paused for a moment, "Such as?"


    "How about a court martial for my mugger?" Jerome demanded with a hit of sarcasm.


    "He''d be in a cell right now if you hadn''t provoked him." Carlson informed him, "But since you did, rather well I might add, he gets a slap on the wrist and nothing more. What else?"


    "Jessica and I haven''t eaten a single thing since breakfast and we didn''t have much before then either. In exchange for my co-operation, I wouldn''t mind getting something to eat for both of us." he sat back and waited for Carlson''s response.


    "That seems like a reasonable request." Carlson admitted, "Is there anything specific you''d like to eat tonight?"


    "We don''t need anything special, just something to eat." Jerome answered, "As a matter of fact, I''ll have what you''re eating for supper tonight. I have a feeling you''ll be working late anyway."


    Carlson grinned as the young man was indeed right, Carlson and his men would all be burning the midnight oil that night, "Alright, I agree to your terms. Now make the call."


    "I''m not done yet," Jerome knew he was pushing his luck, but this was the best chance he had to do so, "How am I supposed to know that Jessica got something to eat? The only way I would be able to confirm that is if we ate at the same time and in the same room."


    Carlson usually didn''t like doing things like this, but chances are they were both going back to Edgar in exchange for his people, so this request was worth giving into so that he could open negotiations.


    "Alright," Carlson finally conceded, "Both Jessica and yourself can join me for dinner after I finish speaking with Mr. Willis."


    "Then we have a deal," Jerome said as he picked up the phone, "That works for me."


    Carlson and his men watched as Jerome dialed a number from memory and handed the phone over to his captor. Everyone in the room patiently waited as Carlson put the phone to his ear and waited someone on the other end to pick up.

 Chapter 43

    Edgar was at the table, gushing over a meal that was nothing short of succulent. He hadn''t eaten that good since he met with Norsberg to get his original assignment and that meal likely cost the old fart a few hundred dollars. There were several people at the main table to join Cyrus and his old lady for dinner. Devon had cleaned himself up, and Mrs. Johnson who was out of her element and a stranger to everyone was being treated like the queen, being waited on hand and foot. The hosts were aware of her value to Edgar and made sure she was more than well taken care of so that Edgar could concentrate on thinking about his next move and what to do with their less than friendly guests below. They were feasting on a fine meal that consisted of a massive ham, mashed potatoes, various veggies and some bread pudding that wasn''t too rubbery and not to wet. Edgar had two helpings as there was enough on the table to feed a small army. It was hard for him to think of anything over his stuffed belly, but something managed to take his attention. While talking to Cyrus and Devon about the state of the designated hitter and its importance in the game, he felt a bit of a rumbling below. It wasn''t his belly digesting the fine meal, but his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. He considered not even answering it since a talk with Norsberg could cause some indigestion, but decided to at least look at the phone to make sure it wasn''t something important he was missing. When he fished into his pocket to get the phone out, several people at the table groaned their displeasure at his lack of table etiquette. After taking one look at the phone, Edgar quickly sat up and looked over at Devon.


    "It''s Jerome''s cell phone," he stood up from the table and quickly excused himself and left the room. Devon also excused himself followed him out, eager to hear in on this conversation and get the skinny on what was going on. Cyrus decided to stay in the room and keep Mrs. Johnson company while his wife left the room to make after dinner tea. Edgar paused for a moment and looked at the number again and then finally answered it.


    "Hello?" he said not sure what response he was going to get.


    "I''m looking for Edgar Willis." the other side quickly answered.


    "This is he." Edgar answered, "I assume by the name that appeared on my phone that you''re the one holding my friend and client right now?"


    "That would be correct." The voice on the other end answered.


    "Then you''ll forgive me for not staying on the line too long." Edgar added, "I''ll need a moment to discuss this development with my people and we''ll get back to you. Keep this phone with you and we''ll call back soon. I have the number."


    Edgar didn''t give the other side a chance to respond and disconnected the line. Right after hanging up the phone, Edgar proceeded to shut down the phone and also remove the battery as well to completely disable it. Based on the time Edgar did give them, they likely knew what state they were in but nothing more. But the biggest development was that they now had the ability to communicate with the other side. He needed time to think about what he was going to do next before calling him back. They both walked back into the room and joined Cyrus and Mrs. Johnson while waiting for tea to come. Edgar could tell by the look in his eyes that Cyrus had a good idea of what just happened but said nothing.


    "It was an important call, but I let the person know we could talk later after supper." he tossed both pieces from his cell phone over to Cyrus, "Make sure that gets destroyed. I hope you have a line that is a little more secure so I can return that call?"


    "No," Cyrus replied, "But I have a good little techie who can make your line untraceable long enough to negotiate something. He''ll have it bounced off several satellites and it will give you enough time to pick a place for whatever you guys plan to do to resolve this little issue."Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    "Sounds like a plan," Edgar said, returning to his meal.


    Cyrus usually had a cigar after supper but he stuffed it into his pocket and would have it later as his guests might not be cool with that at the table. He usually wasn''t this considerate of other people''s feelings, but since one of them is passing over almost a full mill for his services, it didn''t hurt to be considerate this one time. Once they had finished their tea, the men excused themselves and left the table in a hurry while Mrs. Johnson and Cyrus'' wife started to clean up. Edgar was standing out on the deck outside the house and thinking to himself when Cyrus and Devon joined him to see what was on his mind. He looked back at them as they walked out onto the deck.


    "You know why he used Jerome''s cell." Edgar started as he leaned back on the rail, "He wanted me to immediately know that Jerome and Jessica were in his custody."


    "What do you think he wants?" Cyrus asked a little behind the two men who are paid to think on their feet.


    "Since we are both in possession of something that we both want back, it seems fairly obvious what they want." Edgar scratched his mini beard and thought it over leaving the answer out for everyone else to draw on their own since it didn''t take a genius to realize what they wanted.


    "A trade?" Devon filled in.


    "Exactly." Edgar confirmed as he slammed a fist into the rail, "It appears the only way we can assure Jerome and Jessica''s safe release is to return the two goons and Mrs. Johnson back to their custody."


    "Do I still get paid if they''re returned to their people?" Cyrus asked seeming rather one tracked for the time being. Devon couldn''t help but let out a whimper of a giggle at that comment.


    "Seeing that we''re here and taking advantage of your hospitality, I''d have to say yes. Jerome and Jessica''s capture had nothing to do with you. You guys were great today and have earned every penny." Edgar started to fiddle with his beard, and seemed very distracted, "I''m just not sure it''s possible to pull this one off."


    "What do you mean?" Devon asked.


    "How can we pull off a deal with a group like that?" Edgar repeated, "They could use law enforcement to help them, and I can trust them about as far as I can throw them. How can we pull off a deal without ourselves being capture or arrested?"


    "Isolated location." Cyrus chipped in, "You pick something like an abandoned factory and we scout the place like a week before you even make an offer. Stall for time so we can pick a good place. I''ll have my men set up all over the place and if we see more than two or three people arrive who are not supposed to be there, we cancel the deal and try again later. And we just keep trying until the pull off a fair trade."


    "That actually sounds like a good plan." Devon confirmed, "But how do you stall long enough to do this task?"


    "I''ll take care of that," Edgar said as he seemed to find himself liking this idea the more he thought of it, "While the trade will be made in private, the negotiations will be held in public. I want to meet this guy face to face in a very public place. This will give you guys three or four days to find a place. Start looking now. I''m going to make a few phone calls to make sure everyone is on the same page and approve of the plan." he took Devon by the arm as he tried to leave with Cyrus, "Give the two guys below some food and ease up on the rough stuff, at least for now. You can question him, but do it over food this time out. But keep it up because it looks like our time with them is going to be very limited. And I''m gonna need your cell phone."


    "Sounds like a plan." Devon said, obviously disappointed but was understanding as he passed over his cell. "It''s alright, mate. I got my licks in, so I don''t mind going softer this time out. The soft treatment might do a better job than roughing him up again."


    Edgar watched as the two men left. They all seemed to be on the right page, but there was one more person Edgar needed to speak with to make sure the plan was okay with him. He dialed a number and waited for someone to respond and pass him through.

 Chapter 44

    The day had been full of surprises. The raid on Willis'' hideout was hardly surprising, but he was again impressed by how fast the new location was discovered. Fortunate the investigator wasn''t there when they came crashing in for the second time in a row. No such luck for his forensic nerd and Ms. Johnson, who were apprehended. Sir Norsberg had pulled many strings to find out what facility they had been transferred to, but everything led to dead ends. It was like they dropped off the face of the planet, much to the shock of his law enforcement and congressional contacts. No one had been able to give the old man a satisfactory answer and this led him to believe the worst had happened. They had been taken by the enemy.


    Norsberg didn''t like the idea that people were being kidnapped and/or murdered to hide a secret that he had hired Edgar Willis to expose. This bloodshed was not unexpected, he just didn''t expect it to occur this soon before he could properly prepare himself. It was something he''d have to get over in his own time, but right now the old man had something bigger to chew on ever since he spoke with Edgar Willis. The PI had given some big news and it was something that had been nagging him throughout the day. Like the violence, he never expected Edgar to produce results so quickly. The old man sat at his desk and was a still as a statue as many thoughts were bouncing around his sun burned brain. Did he really find the person he had been looking for? He hasn''t spoken to Edgar since that afternoon and was hoping Edgar wouldn''t take his time verifying the woman''s identity. He was eager to find out whether the person they had was the person Edgar claimed she was. The sheer thought of having this person in custody offered so many possibilities. She would be able to answer the questions everyone had been asking but thus far had only fallen on deaf ears.


    There are so many people, victims and citizens who have a right to know what happened. Norsberg fully understood how they felt, and he had the means and the opportunity to expose the whole story for the pack of lies that it was and would do it in grand fashion. Earlier that day, he had contacted several major reporters who were on his payroll. The New York Times, the Wall Street Journal and several other major papers were ready to print what he wanted, when he wanted. All he had to do was meet their price and the press was his. All hail the first amendment.


    After Mrs. Johnson is exposed to the world, he would contact the politicians that were in his pocket, and even the ones he had dirt on, and force them to push for a formal investigation. People would be exposed and then pushed under the bus to save those higher up on the political food chain. He doubted anything would save them, but he didn''t care. The biggest and most important goal of all this was to find his daughter. He was working on a plan that was no doubt bring her home to not only him but to a family that he was no longer a part of. While he was thinking about it, the phone at his desk rang. He quickly tapped a button.


    "What is it?" he called out to his people.


    "I apologize for the interruption, Sir Norsberg." the voice responded, "But I have your stock broker on the line. From what I gather, whatever he wants to talk to you about sounds rather urgent."


    "Put him through." Norsberg quickly replied. He was well aware what this was about, "Jeffery, it''s so nice to hear from you. I assume you got my message?"


    "I was calling in to make sure this was a hoax." the broker angrily snarled back, "Do you have any idea how much money you''ll lose if you sell all these stocks?"


    "Fully." Norsberg responded, "But the request stands. Sell them all, every single one of them."


    "Even your own company?" the broker squealed, not believing what he was hearing.


    "Especially sell the shares in my own company." Norsberg barked back, "I want every single share or stock with my name on it cashed out by the time the bell rings out tomorrow. Is that understood?"


    There was a long pause on the other end, "Yes, Sir." he quietly responded, "I''ll do my best to have them all sold out by the bell. Are you sure about this?"


    "I am." Norsberg quickly confirmed, "I''ve never been so sure about something in my entire life. Sell the whole lot of it. Finish it quickly and I''ll make sure you are well compensated for your work."If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "Yes, Sir Norsberg." The man said before the old man hung up on him.


    After that the line went dead and he chucked to himself when he thought about how insane the broker must think he is. There are a lot of blue chips that are bound to sky rocket in the next year or so, but they mean little to him right now. Norsberg was willing to do anything, even mortgage out his own mansion to raise as much money as he could to get what he wanted. He wanted to see his daughter again, and he didn''t care what he had to spend to get her. He was selling off everything he could, and the reason for that was to make the mother of all bounties. He was going to toss out a number so high, that it would make the rewards being offered by the FBI for their top ten look like chump change.


    The result would be every bounty hunter in the world looking for his little girl and no covert operation would be able to stop that. It was a brilliant plan, one that he looked forward to announcing on live television. The interview would be about regular stuff, but then dive into the conspiracies and he''d offer the reward. It would be amazing and make the news. Everyone will hear about it and want a piece of the action. It would be too rich for anyone to want to stay on the bench. He didn''t have much time to enjoy the thought it as the phone beeped again.


    "What is it now?" he barked into the phone after activating the speaker.


    "My apologies again, Sir Norsberg." the servant repeated, "but I have Edgar Willis on the other line. I assumed you would want to take this one."


    "You assumed correctly," Norsberg confirmed, "Put him through." as the phone clicked over to the other line, the old man seem to immediately cheer up, "Edgar! I''ve been dying to get an update since we last talked. How are things going, dear boy?"


    "We''re doing fine." Edgar answered, being very reserved and respectful, "I called to let you know that we''ve made brief contact with the other people who are holding Jerome and Jessica."


    "I see," Norsberg said, somewhat relieved that there would be a chance to get the two of them back "What is it you think they want?"


    "I didn''t speak to him very long," Edgar replied, "But chances are they''re going to ask for a trade. Our people likely for all of theirs. This puts us in a pickle because it takes us back to square one. This is why I wanted to make sure it was alright to negotiate this with your blessing."


    "I appreciate the courtesy," Norsberg said as he chewed on it for a while. This would change everything. Without any proof that someone was alive, it would be hard to make the bounty for his daughter stick, but money is always a big factor so he would have to rely on the majesty of American greed rather than actual proof to bring home his little girl.


    "Go ahead and negotiate a trade," The old man said, "We''ve lost a lot of people in this crusade already and it would be awful to lose any more."


    "I agree, and appreciate your understanding." Edgar responded.


    "I just need one thing from you Mr. Willis." Norsberg stared, "You are an investigator whose instincts I hold a great deal of respect for. You''ve always got a good grip on reality, so I need your honest opinion for my piece of mind. Before you return this woman to her captives, I need to know the truth. In your most professional opinion, is this really the person we''ve been looking for?"


    "Yes, I believe she is." Edgar confirmed, "And Devon''s pretty sure Jerome is never going to let us hear the end of this after he finds out."


    "I have no doubt about that." Norsberg agreed with a short chuckle, "When do you plan to speak with this man again to give your terms?"


    "Well, I have a plan about that." Edgar replied, "Something that I think you''ll appreciate and give you the peace of mind you''re seeking."


    Sir Norsberg sat there at his desk in silence and listened as Edgar went over his plan for the process in which to get his people back. It wasn''t the best of plans, but given the situation Edgar was doing his best to make sure they couldn''t be double crossed and get out with what they are trying to achieve and get their people back at the same time. It wasn''t fool proof, but worth a shot. The old man at least appreciated Edgar''s efforts to keep him involved despite the setbacks they had been handed.


    "So what do you think?" Edgar asked as he finished going over the plans for their next few moves.


    "I like it." Norsberg approved, "You have the green light to go ahead with it. And don''t you worry about starting over from square one. I have the resources and the contacts to keep up the search for a long, long time. Understood?"


    "Perfectly, Sir Norsberg." Edgar replied, not sure how to respond to that, "I appreciate the support in this matter."


    "Get back to me when things are in motion, I''ve got a few calls to make. Until then, a due Mr. Willis." Norsberg put the phone down, and then started to file through his own contact list. He had a few more calls to make and some travel plans to arrange. He first contacted his pilot,"I need to arrange a flight to Washington DC. When? Well, what time is it right now?"

 Chapter 45

    Jerome and Jessica hadn''t seen each other in what seemed like days but was only a paltry twelve hours. Mr. Carlson had raided the cafeteria and had the guards bring three platters of whatever was being served that day for them all to eat on one of the interrogation rooms. As agreed, Jessica and Jerome were able to eat together and talk to one another for the first time since their capture. Carlson ate with them, to not only prove the food wasn''t tainted, but to listen in on what they were saying in case they made any proverbial slips and let out something that could indicate where they could find Edgar and their people. His strategy didn''t seem to be working too well as the two of them didn''t speak often and concentrated on their food. It didn''t matter too much anyway because Jerome''s cell phone started to buzz and ring in his coat pocket. There was no doubt it was Willis as the number wasn''t appearing on the display. He looked back up at his dinner guests,


    "Excuse me for a moment, I''ll be right back." he stepped up from the table and walked out the door. As he closed the door behind him he whispered to the guard to his left, "Increase the sensitivity of the mics in the table in case they try to sneak something by us." The guard nodded and moved to the other room to pass the orders. Carlson took a few more steps down the hall and then opened the phone, "I was beginning to wonder when I was going to hear from you again, Mr. Willis."


    "I apologize for that," Edgar''s voice responded, "But I had to make sure the line was secure so we could chat without any outside interference."


    "Alright." Carlson acknowledged, "Now that we are talking, I don''t think it takes a rocket scientist to figure out what I want."


    "No it doesn''t." Edgar confirmed, "So you want your men back. I think a two for two swap sounds good to me."


    "I want the woman as well." Carlson immediately chipped in, "If she''s no included, there''s no deal."


    "I don''t think you understand the position you''re in. Not only do we have one of your ''residents'', but we have two of your goons who have provided us with some interesting intel that would make for good reporting. I have a buddy at the New York Times that would kill for some of this stuff. It''s got Pulitzer written all over it." Edgar let that sink in for a moment before continuing, "I''m sure you realize why I want to keep her. She is after all the objective of my assignment."


    "No offense, but she''s part of mine as well." Carlson said, not budging an inch on this issue, "If you don''t include her in the trade, we have nothing further to discuss."


    "I understand, but you have to realize what position this puts me in. I have a job to do as well." Edgar continued, "My employer requires some sort of satisfaction for what he''s paying for. I''m willing to consider your terms, but I think we need to settle the smaller details in person."


    Carlson was slightly surprised by this request, but decided to play along "I assume you had a location in mind?"


    "As a matter of fact I do." Edgar answered, "Grab a pen and I''ll give you the information right now."


    Carlson took out a pad and started to write down the specified location, "You''re still in Washington?" he admitted, rather surprised.


    "I will be that day." Edgar chided back, "Make sure you are at this location or you can kiss any kind of deal being made good bye."A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Smart choice for our meeting," he confessed, as he wrote it down. "Very public and with many exit points. Since you have something I want, I can assure you that I have no intention of trying to apprehend you. I want this to be a fair deal, and to assure that I''ll go alone as requested."


    "I appreciate that, as would my employer." Edgar said as he seemed very cautious about giving anymore details than that.


    "Is he going to be attending?" Carlson asked trying to make sure what was going on here.


    "He''s not very mobile." Edgar responded, "So you''ll have to settle for little ol'' me instead. I don''t have much time left so we''ll end things here. We''ll meet at the specified location at noon. We''ll do lunch."


    Carlson was going to respond with his own witty retort, but the line went dead too quickly. He turned the phone off and slipped it back into his pocket. He looked back at his notepad and stared at the address he had been given from Edgar. Was it a setup, or was Edgar merely eager to meet his adversary? His reasons for requesting this face to face was irrelevant. If this is what he needed to do to get his people and the resident back, he was going to make sure Edgar was satisfied to agree to his terms. He walked back towards the room where Jessica and Jerome were eating but instead walked into the room that was watching them through a one way mirror. He softly closed the door behind him.


    "Have they said anything we could use?" he asked.


    "No sir." one of the people listening in said, "All they''ve talked about was how they''ve been treated and what they should do. Jerome seems sure a trade is in the works and is informing her to remain patient."


    "Alright." Carlson said, "Keep listening and keep an eye out for anything. I''m going to go in and see if I can pry something out of them."


    Carlson walked out of the room and then walked back into the room where Jerome and Jessica were still eating. He seemed all smiles as he sat down at the table with them and resumed eating his own meal.


    "I just spoke with your boss." he said casually trying to act as if everything went as he expected it to, "He didn''t say much and set plans to talk at a later time."


    "Paranoia is something you develop when working on cases like this." Jerome replied without looking up, "If Edgar has who I think he has, which I think he does since you''re talking to him and offering us up as bait... then he''s a tad more paranoid than he was when he started this case. It means he likely doesn''t trust you. He probably asked for a public face to face negotiation, didn''t he?"


    Carlson tried to keep his cool, aware that Jerome was trying to get him to show his hand far too early, "I''m not surprised, and I wouldn''t mind a face to face myself. It gives me an idea of who I''m dealing with. Intel I''m obviously not going to get from you."


    "What more do you need to know?" Jerome asked now playing with his food since he was full, "He''s an ex-cop that is in uncharted territory. He''s likely questioning anything he''s ever believed from JFK right down to the theories of how life came to be. Because of that, Edgar is likely the most unpredictable he''s ever been. Have fun with that."


    Jerome cracked a smile, knowing that he had probably put the fear of God into his captor. Carlson didn''t like where this conversation was going and excused himself from the room. Since he had a date with the man holding his people, hanging out with Jerome and Jessica seemed to be a useless task. As he left the room one of the guards asked what they should do with the two prisoners in the room. He paused for a moment to ponder the question.


    "Leave them in there to finish eating," Carlson said. "He got us in contact with Willis so we should keep our word to him."


    "For how long, Sir?" one of his men asked.


    "Give them another hour, see if any of them slip up." Carlson said, "If they don''t, return them to separate cells until they''re needed again."


    "Yes, Sir." The mans aid, turning back to watch and listen to the two prisoners as they ate their meal.


    After that Carlson left for his office to update his superiors about his contact and negotiations with Edgar Willis, but also to make plans for his trip to the capital.

 Chapter 46

    Edgar arrived to the predetermined point about an hour before he said he would be there. It was his way of trying to catch people off guard. He was sure if they tried to set something up he would be able to look around and see them doing it long before he was supposed to show up. He had picked the busiest building, the biggest mall in the city during the weekend no less. This place was packed with people scurrying around for great deals and trying to do anything here would be impossible. The reason why he had chosen this exact location for their meeting was that there would be too much collateral around to risk anything. It''s one thing to arrest someone in front of a small house in the burbs, it''s another completely to attempt to take someone in a packed mall. All Edgar would have to do is fire a single shot into the air and mass panic would tear the place apart. There was no way this Carlson fellow would try anything here because he also still had his people, which was a good bargaining chip incase he didn''t care about the little people.


    Edgar took his sweet time navigating through the gigantic shopping complex. There were over two hundred stores and shops, and he pretended to look into a few of them with interest, all the time looking out for points where people could be looking out for him. Finally when he was sure the area was clear enough for him to risk it, he started to walk towards to the coffee shop that he had instructed Carlson to meet him at. He told him that a table would be waiting for them, and that he was to arrive at exactly three in the afternoon. As Edgar was walking over, his new cell phone gave a little jingle and vibrated against his chest.


    He flipped it open, "Hello?"


    "It''s just me." the old voice of Sir Norsberg crackled on the other end, "I wanted to speak with you before your little get together just in case this was our last chance."


    "I''m not sure they''re willing to risk that with their own men still with us." Edgar said as he kept looking around. It was still clear.


    "I''m sure they wouldn''t, but with all that''s occurred in the last week or so, you''d forgive an old man for not taking any chances." Norsberg said as he coughed a few times away from the phone, "I wanted to wish you well and hope that things go our way."


    "I don''t expect them to go anyway. This is really a negotiation to the real thing and a test to see how much I can trust them." Edgar paused for a moment, then kept walking, "I think they are aware of this as well. If they''re likely to try something funny, it will be as the next meeting when everyone will be there."


    "Fair enough." Norsberg agreed, "So they''ll use this meeting to build trust and rapport, and then yank it away when it''s all on the line."


    "That''s how I''d do it if I was in his shoes." Edgar commented as he spotted the coffee shop, "So don''t worry that fragile little noodle of yours. I''ll be fine and will contact you when it''s all said and done."


    "I''m in town." Norsberg suddenly said, "Meeting with people and to make sure things go as expected."


    Edgar was taken back by this, "You didn''t need to do that."


    "Don''t worry about me, lad." Norsberg said, "I''ve got more than one skillet on the stove, but yours is the one that''s keeping me up at night."


    "So I''m not the only one losing sleep over this?" Edgar sarcastically asked the old man.


    "Hardly not." Norsberg cussed sharply, "I doubt your counterpart has slept much since his men went missing. I bet he''s as eager to see you as you are him. I''m just calling to let you know things are being done on this end just in case things go astray."


    "I appreciate that, sir." Edgar said as he stopped just short of the door, "I should let you go. I''ve arrived to the shop."


    "Very well." Norsberg said as he gave up with a deep sigh, "Godspeed my boy, and full details by the end of the day, understood?"


    "Of course," Edgar quickly disconnected, and put the phone back into his pocket and slowly walked into the coffee shop. He strolled up to the counter and ordered a large Irish cr¨¨me, and as he was walking up to the island to toss in a few more sugar twins, a man from the back of the room waved at him. Edgar looked at him for a moment, and then realized the man was waving to the woman behind him who ran over to his table and joined him with a few chilled lattes. As he started to step away from the island, he heard someone call out his name.


    "Over here Mr. Willis." a voice called out.


    Edgar turned around, and in a very strategic corner of the coffee house sat a rather calm man, wearing a black suit and already nursing a drink of his own. Edgar walked up to the table, "You''re early."


    "So are you." Carlson retorted, "Chalk that one up for being the workaholics on both sides of the fence."


    "I''ll concede that one." Edgar said as he sat down, "I came to scout the place out to make sure you didn''t have some goon hiding in the back making muffins."


    "As did I." Carlson noted, "Last thing I want to do is add myself to your already impressive list of captives."


    "Fair enough." Edgar said as he slouched back, "We have so much to discuss. Where would you like to start?"


    "I assume you''re not just here to talk trade." Carlson said as he took another sip of his herbal tea, "Otherwise we would have just pitched them over the phone in sixty second intervals."


    "No fun in that," Edgar replied as he took a large slug of his brew. He always liked to slam it down while it was still scalding hot, "Besides, I never make any deal without negotiating it out face to face. It''s kind of a personal guideline."


    "Very reasonable of you ask me." Mr. Carlson agreed, "If a person isn''t willing to be there in person to seal the deal with a handshake, he can''t be trusted. I may work secretly behind closed doors, but I am a honest person. I always let people know what they are involved in and what their options are. I never lie to them."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "Even to those you kidnap?" Edgar retorted, trying to tap a button.


    "Now, now, there''s no need to toss around that ugly word." Carlson said with a grin, "Everything I have done has been pre-authorized to the highest level. When it all comes crumbling down, I''ll be the man who merely took the orders and did his duty."


    "Funny," Edgar said, "That defense never worked for the Nazis."


    "That''s because they killed their captives." Carlson countered. "I''ve done no such thing."


    "To the world they are dead, isn''t that just as bad? To make these families believe that their loved one had perished in such a gruesome manner?" Edgar was having a bit of fun with this, trying to read how Carlson would react to the emotional hell people like Jessica, Norsberg and countless others had been living the last five years.


    "I know it looks bad from your point of view, but my mission is to make the residents of my program as comfortable as possible." Carlson replied, "Some of them are actually living better lives since the day of their placement. There was one resident from the capital who was being beaten by her husband. She was onboard that plane get away from him and fly to her mother for help. Our program provided her with the shelter, an education and the means to move on with her life that no one else could have. That was truly an example of divine fate working in her favor."


    "So you use examples like this help you sleep at night?" the PI responded while finishing his coffee in record time.


    "I sleep just fine, Mr. Willis." Carlson said as he waved to someone to take another order, "The alternative was killing them. I was the voice of reason who said it was possible to keep them away without that kind of violence. I''m not the bad guy. I''m the one who fights for the sanctity of life."


    "Spoken like your commander in chief," Edgar countered, "He must be very proud."


    "That buffoon doesn''t know the meaning of that term." Carlson spat back as he tossed his serviette on the table, "His people have no respect for life at all, unless it preaches to their duped masses or fills the coffers of their campaign financiers. They were the heartless bastards who wanted them executed to begin with. They almost had their way too."


    "I find it funny that you feel all right enough to discuss this in such a public place." Edgar said rather surprised, "You''re not afraid this confession is being recorded?"


    "First off, I''ve never mentioned any names or dates." Carlson casually replied, "And secondly, there is a recording scrambler underneath every table in the shop. I had my people install them last night. I could tell you who killed Kennedy and it wouldn''t make a difference because you''ll won''t have any on film or tape."


    "You must have made one hell of a boy scout." Edgar said mockingly.


    "I came alone as requested. You said nothing about prepping the area prior to our meeting." Carlson challenged, and he was right, "But those scramblers are double edged sword as I''m not getting anything recorded either. So we both get nothing but the pleasure of each other''s company and whatever deal we manage to strike."


    "Fair enough." Edgar said as he decided it was enough foreplay and time to get down to business, "I''ll give you both your goons back for Jerome and Jessica. Two for two sounds fair to me."


    "It might to some, but I want my resident back as well." Carlson returned, "Without her there is no deal. I''ll give you your people and I want everyone back in return, including the old woman. Without here there is no way my people are going to accept anything."


    "But I have more chips than you do. What are you going to give me for her return?" Edgar said trying to pry him over to his side.


    "How about cash?" Carlson suggested, "We have a pretty hefty budget."


    "I''ve got plenty of that," Edgar said, "As you likely know based on the numerous background checks you''ve done. My client wants satisfaction for his money. Handing over my only piece of evidence for nothing would leave him feeling rather unsatisfied."


    "So now the truth comes out." Carlson said as he discovered the truth, "Someone else is financing this for their own reasons. This wasn''t a charity case taken up for the sake of being nice to Miss Johnson."


    "Never. Uncle Ben rules." Edgar said as he tapped the table with diligent impatience.


    "Well put." Carlson said with a chuckle, they his face went cold as he delivered his pitch, "I know the exact amount that was tossed in earlier this week, and I can double it. Just give me back my people and walk away." Carlson knew this would be a sweet offer. He watched the PI with interest to see any signs that might indicate his response.


    "What about Jerome and Jessica?" Edgar asked.


    "They know too much." Carlson answered, "Especially Jerome. They''d be put into the system and never seen again."


    "Tempting, but I''m going to have to turn you down." Edgar said, amazed that the words were coming out of his mouth, "My client has the means to top your offer and likely would in a heartbeat if he knew you were making this pitch. I want Jerome and Jessica back, but I''m willing to give you your extra chip in return for a favor."


    "What kind of favor are we talking about here?" Carlson said, somewhat interested. Rather that spit out his response, Edgar wrote it down on his napkin as clearly as he could. He passed it over to Carlson and gave him a moment to ponder what it had to say.


    "What do you think this might solve?" Carlson asked.


    "Well, it would get one thorn out of your side and tie up a loose end." Edgar acknowledged, "My client won''t be happy, but I can always try again, and again, and again if necessary."


    "I was afraid you were going to say that." Carlson responded, knowing exactly what he meant by it.


    "That''s the terms." Edgar said rather coldly. "Take it or leave it."


    "I''ll take it to my superiors for their approval." Carlson confirmed, "Do you have a location in mind?"


    "Right here tomorrow night at midnight, right by the main entrance. Don''t come early this time." Edgar said as he stood up to leave, "I''ve got people watching the spot already. Any preps this time will result in a cancellation of our deal and your resident will be on CNN by tomorrow morning. Understood?"


    "Yes." Carlson said as he stood as well, "Perfectly. You have my word that I''ll do this right. I''m not a double crosser. You give me what you want and I''ll go through with my end."


    "I appreciate that." Edgar said, getting a good vibe from his adversary, "You''re a rare one in your field, aren''t you?"


    "You''ll never really know..." Carlson said with a smile as he shook Edgar''s hand to seal the deal, "See you tomorrow at midnight."


    Edgar paused for a moment, and didn''t let go of Carlson''s hand, "Do you really happen to know who killed Kennedy?"


    "Of course I do," Carlson replied with a grin. "The operation was executed by my mentor."


    "Just don''t tell Jerome." Edgar said, "Or he''d never let any of us hear the end of it."


    "Tell me about it," Carlson confirmed with a chuckle. Edgar watched as Carlson picked up his coat and strolled out of the coffee shop. He wasn''t five steps outside when a woman carrying shopping bags joined him and escorted him out of the mall. Good cover, Edgar thought to himself as he strolled out himself. Once outside the coffee shop, he activated a new ''pay as you go'' cell and made the call.


    "It''s a go." He said, "Bring them in tonight and I''ll meet you at our previously arranged spot. See you then."


    After hanging up the phone, Edgar tore the phone apart and tossed each part into a different trash container while browsing around the mall before finally making a quick exit.

 Chapter 47

    Smith had been in the zone all morning, and he was eager for his supervisor to come back from his meeting with Willis to share what he had discovered. There was so much information he had to pass over he was going to burst at the seams if he didn''t get some of it out very soon. The old man had taken off hours ago and as he promised Willis, he left alone and went in without backup. He had one of his men tail Carlson to make sure Willis didn''t try any funny stuff but also to make sure everything went all right. Carlson returned to the building they were stationed in hours after he had left, but before he could say anything, the old man grabbed Smith by the arm and dragged him into a empty room for a little privacy. The man didn''t seem too impressed.


    "Last time I checked," Carlson started, "I didn''t order any one to tail me to the meeting."


    "Well, I was thinking..." Smith started.


    "You are paid to do as you''re told, not think!" Carlson interrupted, "You could have ruined the entire trade had Willis thought I was double crossing him. We''re so close to getting our resident back and getting everything back to normal. The last thing I need is for you to think outside the box and do your own thing and interfere with my operation."


    "I understand, but we have a problem." Smith said as he handed over a piece of paper that was in his hands, "A family member of one of our residents is liquidating all assets. He started this a few days ago and will be finished later today before the end bell on Wall Street. There''s even a rumor going around that he''s going to sell his own company."


    Carlson went over the papers, and the kind of money that was being tossed around was making what Willis was getting paid chump change, "Didn''t this Norsberg person work with Willis in the past?"


    "Yes, he did." Smith confirmed, "But they had a falling out a few years back. Do you think they''re working together again?"


    "Willis admitting during our meeting that someone was backing his hunt." Carlson said as he kept reading, "How much will Norsberg have if he managed to sell everything?"


    "Just north of two billion," Smith answered, "After he sells the company, you''re looking at anywhere between ten and twenty billion added onto that. This guy could be a major threat to the program."


    "That he is," Carlson said as he never looked up, "I can contact someone to stall the sale of the company. We can drag that one out for years. But this number he could have by the end of today is still troubling."


    "We need to take him out before he can provide anymore help to Edgar Willis." Smith added, "With him out of the way, there''s no way anyone in his estate would want to fund his crusade. While he''ll still have some of his original funds left, there are ways to cut that down. We''ll limit Willis'' funds and hopefully that will get him to back off."


    "I don''t think that will work, and I''m not going to authorize the murder of an elderly person." Carlson said with a sense of distaste in his tone.


    "We need to do what is necessary to protect the program!" Smith rebutted as he became a little hot headed. Carlson noticed this before but Smith was very passionate about keeping things together.


    "Is that what was going through your mind when you took care of Mr. Tucker and his people?" Carlson asked, hoping to see what kind of reaction Smith would have to such a serious accusation.


    Smith seemed to be taken back from this comment, but quickly recovered, "We have to do what is necessary to protect the program, even if it means getting our hands a little dirty."Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Your job is to do as you''re told and not take any kind of action without prior approval from myself or my superiors!" Carlson shouted as he seemed to loose his patience with the young agent, "I should have stepped in the minute you ordered the taps and the tail on Ms. Johnson, but didn''t since no one was hurt. After the fire, I had some of my own people do a bit of investigating. That''s where I found your connection to the people who burned that building to the ground, and likely murdered Mr. Tucker and his people. I got the evidence I needed late last night, as of right now you''re no longer an active agent of the program."


    Smith seemed stunned. "But I was only doing what was necessary..."


    "I''m the one who deems what is necessary and what isn''t!" Carlson barked, not amused by Smith''s broken record routine, "I''ve been running this operation and many others for over thirty years, and the reason why they''ve all been so successful is because actions like that are only used as a last resort! You only use them when other tactics are unsuccessful, not when you think they are right to implement. If anything, your actions were a direct cause to what has transpired over the last week. With that, your involvement with this program is coming to an end."


    "So what are you going to do?" Smith said with a cocky grin on his face, "Charge me with murder? Do you really want the reason why I did it to come out in a court of law?"


    "No, I don''t." Carlson conceded, "Which is why you are not going to be charged with anything. You are going to be inserted into the program and relocated as a threat to the system. Your family will be told you were killed in an automobile accident." As he said that, three men came into the room and grabbed Smith from behind, "You''re going to disappear, just like everyone else. That is how we take care of our problems. Get this man out of my sight."


    "You can''t do this!" Smith screamed as he was dragged out of the room, "You need me to protect the system! I''m here to help you!"


    "The system does need protection." Carlson said as he was dragged out, "Sometimes protection from itself when things go too far."


    He turned his back and didn''t watch as the young man was hauled out and taken away. This wasn''t the first time he''d seen something like this happen, but Carlson was relieved to have stopped him before anyone else got hurt. There are ways to get your way without having to hurt people, but Smith just seemed too eager to silence people before they did the actions that would be considered a threat. You only take action if someone crosses the line, not when they are considering crossing it. Sometimes people will change their mind and back off. Smith wasn''t willing to show the faith and the patience necessary to find out which way some were going to go before flying off the handle. That was the last thing he needed at this point and was glad to have him removed from the picture. This kind of attitude was bound to eventually jeopardize the mission he was trying to save. He was ready to deal with Edgar honestly because the risk was too great not too. He needed to get the resident back in custody and taken care of, then after that he could try to deal with Edgar Willis on his own terms.


    After the young man was removed, the blackberry on his belt started to chime and vibrate. Carlson removed it from his belt and took a look at it to see what the message was. He had sent a text to his superiors on the way back to the compound to get their reaction to Edgar''s more than generous offer along with his recommendation. The message was short and clear:


    THE DEAL IS APPROVED. MAKE THE TRADE.


    That was all he needed to see. After that he walked into the main room and started to brief everyone on the operation that was about to take place. They needed to be ready for any double crosses from Willis. He didn''t think Edgar would try anything funny, but one has to prepare for everything, and once everyone was busy working on prep, he took a moment to sit down and relax. The loss of Smith was going to hurt. Despite his paranoia and apparent psychosis, he was a good trooper when he did as he was told. He needed to ignore that for now and deal with it when things were back to normal. If this deal went as planned, he would be able to get that sooner than later. His approval from those in charge of the program gave Carlson the confidence that what he was doing was the right course. Right now killing anyone would only raise suspicion, not make it go away. The trade was the right way to go for now, and after that he''ll let the PR department deal with Willis and whatever claims he''ll try to take to the press or the viewing public. They had ways to distract the people when necessary, and he considered them magicians of media. It would take a dozy of a story, something like a big celebrity arrest to get them off the scent but they could do it. They had many times before, but it would be something to look into after the trade is taken care of. Right now that was his biggest priority.

 Chapter 48

    It had been a very satisfying day for Norsberg. Despite his protests, his broker was able to complete the task of liquidating every asset he had on the market that wasn''t associated with his own company by the end of the bell today. The shares to his company were another matter all together. Because he was a senior shareholder and founder of the company, he had to sell them off through legal means to prevent people from panicking and assuming something was wrong with the company. It was all right to him, the money would still be available and ready to go in time for his big announcement. He had made so many plans, and regardless of how Edgar''s day went he would have something to work with and would do whatever it took to get his daughter back. He wanted to hold her at least one last time, apologize for being a bitter old fart and return her to the family that blamed him for the longest time for her disappearance. It was time for him to make up to his family the years he neglected them, working too hard to make money and not enough time to build the bond that most families share and enjoy with one another. It was his obsession with work that caused his family to break apart. While many people claim that they''d be willing to give it all up to get their family back, he was willing to prove it. By selling everything off, he was ready to start the largest manhunt on the planet with the largest reward that not even the most loyal worker would think about before turning down. With so many people working for this secret organization, there had to be one greedy prick who''d like to retire and take the money and run. He knew greed was a great motivator. Even if by some miracle the workers were able to resist, bounty hunters so vicious that they make Devon look like a boy scout would come out of the wood works and make life a living hell for whoever was holding these people. It was however something that was going to expose him to the enemy. No one can liquidate this many assets and not raise any red flags.


    Odds are those who intended to keep Edgar from knowing the truth will likely put two and two together and figure out who was financing all this from the very beginning. He knew this, and made plans in case he didn''t make it to the end of the journey. He wanted to make sure that Edgar and his friends had the means to carry out the full plan he had set out from the start. Even from his grave, he had ever intention of making Edgar earn every penny he had given and planned to give him. He contacted his lawyers and made the necessary transfers and what not to prepare for the worst. He had never met the young man Edgar had hired, but Jerome was beginning to have an effect on him as well as paranoia began to creep into his mind like an unwanted visitor. Still he worked and made calls to set things up. Since he was in Washington personally, it didn''t take much arm twisting to get them to agree to meet up with him. Regardless of what happened to Edgar that night, he was going to go ahead with his plan just in case he himself was captured and never seen again. He trusted Edgar to take the correct precautions but again was beginning to worry a lot ever since the fire that caused Mr. Tucker and his men to perish. He felt bad about that. As the person who hired him and his people to put them on the front line, Norsberg took it upon himself to take care of the families who lost ones they loved in his quest to find the truth. He made sure Edgar gave Mr. Tucker''s cut of the money to the families to get by, and through Dryden Industries a massive college trust fund was made for each child who lost a parent. They were well taken care of and while it would not make everything better, it was an effort to minimize suffering. Nothing was ever going to make it all go away, not all the money in the world could do that. He knew that all too well.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    It was getting late, and he knew that regardless of what happened with the exchange, he was going to need his sleep and get the rest he needed to carry out what he had planned. Rest was important, especially to a man his age and in his condition. The doctors had been worried about his health over the last few months, so it was one of many reasons why parting with his wealth was so easily. It''s not like he was going to be able to take it with him wherever he was going to after this life. He picked up the phone and tapped a few numbers.


    "This is Nigel Norsberg," he said into the receiver, "Wake me up around six am for breakfast. Then we''ll need a car around seven."


    "Understood, Sir Norsberg." the servant responded from the other room, "Good night and sleep well."


    "Thank you." Norsberg replied as he hung up the phone. He wheeled his way over to the bed and slowly heaved himself in with a decent huff.


    He was tempted to read something, but resisted and laid down his head and turned off the lights a few moments later. There was so much racing through his mind that it was hard for him to get to sleep. He was aware this might be a problem and he took something to help him nod off. There was so much to think about and so much to do, but it was time to rest. And rest he did. Hours after falling asleep, Sir Norsberg''s quest for the truth came to an end. The health concerns his doctor''s had been warning him about had finally caught up with the passionate old fart as his heart had finally tossed in the towel. He passed away in his sleep very peacefully and wasn''t discovered until his early morning wake up call.

 Chapter 49

    The following night came faster than anyone really wanted it to. Edgar''s decision to give everyone as little prep time as possible paid off because his own people watching the front of the mall didn''t see any activity that would suggest a double cross. Carlson''s confession of bugging the entire coffee shop the night before with scramblers to prevent any recordings made tonight the perfect time to pull off the trade. Zero notice for prep and he had someone watching the spot ever since he left the building and there had been no activity around the main entrance. With so many people coming and going through this entrance, it would be hard to do any kind of work like that without scaring up some suspicion which is the last thing Edgar thinks Carlson wants while one of his residents is still at large. He had his own people come in early and set up. Devon and Cyrus were a bit surprised by his decision to go tonight, but they knew he must have had a good reason to pick that time. It was rather last minute, but that seemed like the best way to keep everyone off their game. Edgar wouldn''t have set it so soon if he didn''t have confidence his people would be all right with it and he was correct to think that. Devon got into town rather quickly with their captives and was ready to make the deal once he gave the signal.


    Given the impression he got from Carlson, he wasn''t anticipating anything funny because what he had was too sensitive to mess around with. Once the ''resident'' was stashed away and back behind the iron curtain, all bets would be off after that. Edgar arrived at the mall alone in a rental car around fifteen minutes before the time set and this time Carlson wasn''t early as he had been in the coffee shop. He didn''t have to wait long, as just a few minutes after he parked in front of the main doors, another car all the way and the other end of the lot turned on its lights and slowly pulled up. It was a van, and its black coat made it hard to notice when Edgar made his approach. As he watched the vehicle approach, Edgar would have been the first to admit he was a little nervous. Not shit your pants kind of nervous but worried enough to take precautions to make sure that he himself didn''t become a future ''resident'' as well. A few moments later, the van came right over and eventually stopped ten feet short of Edgar''s car and parked as well, but left the lights on for a little illumination. Just after coming to a stop, Mr. Carlson stepped out of the van''s front passenger seat and slowly strolled over. Edgar walked up and greeted his current nemesis.


    "Nice night for a trade, isn''t it?" Edgar said as he walked up, "Not too warm and yet not too cold either."


    "I agree, a nice night for an exchange." Carlson said as he stopped five feet short of where Edgar was standing, "Before we start this thing, I have some Intel I need to pass your way."


    "Concerning what?" Edgar demanded, not in the mood for surprises.


    "It''s concerning the demise of Mr. Tucker and your workers." Carlson answered, "I wanted to let you know that the person responsible for it has been apprehended and taken into our custody."


    "Was this person one of your people?" Edgar questioned, eager to see how much info the man was willing to give out for him.


    "He was," Carlson confirmed, "But what he''s done over the last few weeks was without our knowledge or permission. Once we figured out what was going on, we acted quickly to neutralize him and any future actions he was planning against you. He will no longer be a problem for anyone. I just thought you might want to know that it was taken care of."


    "I appreciate that," Edgar said as he digested the information. He knew Carlson didn''t have to tell him that and keep denying it till he was blue in the face. Yet if he was telling the truth and since it was one rogue in the group knocking people off, it was nice to know he wasn''t at large anymore.


    "I also want you to know that I rarely if ever take someone''s life when working any operation." Carlson began, "I don''t take actions like that unless I''ve exhausted every other option at my disposal, and believe me I have a lot of them. To me the perfect operation is when everyone is alive and oblivious to what is going on. I''ve conducted some of the world''s biggest black ops miracles, but the reason why you know nothing about them is because no one was hurt in the process. I try to avoid violence as much as possible. I didn''t not authorize the killing of your people, and am sorry for the unnecessary loss of life in this matter."


    "I believe you." Edgar surprisingly said, "The offer in the coffee shop was proof that you are willing to try some pretty big things before having to cross that line. But I''m not here tonight for money, and you know that."


    "So how would you like to start this off then?" Carlson asked, realizing that Edgar was eager to get things on the move.


    "I wouldn''t mind seeing at least one of my people first. Just to make sure this thing is going to actually go down." Edgar stated, not even trying to be polite about his fears of a double cross.


    "I can agree to that, but only one of them for now." Carlson tapped on the hood and pointed to the driver, signally for only one to come out. A few seconds later, one of them was dragged out, hooded and tied up. Carlson removed the hood to reveal that it was Jerome, "The other is still in the van. Where are my people?"


    Without hesitation, Edgar jumped on the phone and made a call. A few minutes later, that same truck they used to make the abduction with a new coat of paint to change its identity came into the parking lot and stopped just behind Edgar''s car. A few minutes later, both goons and Mrs. Johnson were escorted out by some of the same armed men that were used to apprehend them,


    "One of them is a little roughed up," Edgar informed him, "But if it''s any consolation, he didn''t talk."


    "I''ll put a note in his file." Carlson said, appreciating the Intel. He tapped on the hood again and another person brought out the last person necessary to make the as Jessica came out. Once her hood came off, Mrs. Johnson started to tear up as she realized what really was going on. Edgar had told her that some of his people were captured but he failed to mention that one of them was her daughter. He didn''t want her to panic and back out at the last moment, so discretion was a little necessary given the situation. After Jessica was unbound, Edgar made a motion to Mr. Carlson, "Give them a moment together. It has been five years since they''ve seen each other."


    "Alright, let her go." Carlson barked to his goons.


    The moment Jessica was let go, she ran over and hugged her mother. The two women began to cry and made all the other men who were standing there a bit uneasy to be there.


    They hugged for a few moments. Jessica couldn''t believe that after all these years she was holding the person she thought she would never see again. She took a step back.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    "I still can''t believe it''s you." Jessica said.


    "It is baby," her mother said as she hugged her again, "I''ve missed you so much. I wish I didn''t have to go again."


    "What do you mean?" before anyone could say anything Jessica seemed to figure it out herself, "He''s trading you to get me back, isn''t he?" she turned to face Edgar, "So after all we did to get her, you''re just going to give her back?"


    "Not exactly." Edgar replied, trying not to sound so cold.


    "We brokered what was an acceptable deal for both sides involved." Carlson replied, "Mr. Willis and I agreed this is for the best."


    Jessica didn''t seem to like what was going on, "Do you really think I''m going to give up now that I''ve seen here again and confirmed she''s still alive with my own eyes! I''ll never give up and spend the rest of my life looking for her and for everyone you''ve locked up!"


    "We had a feeling you were going to feel that way," Carlson replied, "That''s why you''re coming with us."


    "What?" Jessica said, somewhat confused.


    "What the hell is going on?" Jerome finally managed to spit out once he was close to Edgar.


    "Part of the deal was to let Jessica stay with her mom." Edgar replied, "She''ll be relocated again, but this time with her daughter. This way they''ll be together with her mom again and never have to look for her again."


    "You''ll let her come with me?" Mrs. Johnson asked Mr. Carlson. She was also surprised to hear that he would agree to such a deal.


    "It was actually Mr. Willis'' idea." Carlson responded, "After much thought, I agreed it was the best course of action. I''d rather give in and let you two relocate together than have to worry about her looking for you for the next twenty to thirty years." he said, as he made a motion to Jessica, "This way you don''t have to worry about resuming your search or going back to a life and job you don''t like."


    "This was your idea?" Jerome whispered to Edgar, somewhat disgusted.


    "We can talk about it later," Edgar replied, not too eager to say anything with his adversary within range to hear what he might say.


    "Alright." Jerome conceded, knowing that Edgar likely had a plan, "Can we have a moment to say good bye?" he then asked Carlson.


    "Of course you can." Carlson replied as he watched his two men walk into their van and take a seat.


    Jessica walked over and hugged Jerome before hugging Edgar, "Thank you for helping me find her. I really meant a lot to me."


    "You''re welcome." Edgar said as he returned the hug, and then he whispered in her ear, "Enjoy being with your mom and do as they tell you. Be a good little resident and we''ll come to find you. Alright?"


    "Sounds like a plan." Jessica said as she started to tear up, "Good bye Jerome, Devon."


    "Bye Jess." Devon called back. He grabbed Jerome by the cuff and slowly dragged him back towards the truck and then tossed him into the front passenger seat.


    Edgar waved to Mrs. Johnson and then watched as she and Jessica got into the black van. He didn''t know if he would ever see them again, but if he didn''t he was determined to make sure the reason wasn''t a lack of effort on his part. He looked over to Carlson who was still standing in the same spot since the beginning.


    "You do realize this isn''t over." Willis told his nemesis. "My employer isn''t the kind of man to give up that easily."


    "It''s never over for me, Mr. Willis." Carlson replied with a smirk, "Long after you''ve packed things up there will always be other family members, other investigators, bounties and documentaries that will always try to expose my operation. To ignore that is to invite defeat, and I''m not that kind of man. Try if you like, but it''s one hell of a mountain to scale, and I''m the man at the top with a lot of boulders to push over to knock you off."


    "You mean like how your man did to my people?" Edgar snapped back trying to provoke a more emotional response.


    "Hardly, Mr. Willis." Carlson retorted, "I have many weapons at my disposal that allow me to keep the program well hidden. Weapons of mass distraction, massive PR plans designed to keep the masses duped and filtered from getting any kind of information that will make them stop drinking the kool-aid as Mr. Ryan so colorfully put it. Without any evidence Mr. Willis, you''re just another whack job with a conspiracy theory. Out of all the tactics at my disposal, none have ever been more effective than deniability. Regardless of how close you come, I have people on my side that are trusted by the masses and they will stand on their soapboxes and deny, deny, deny. The networks will cover what they have to say, and give them slots in the Sunday morning political talk shows for another chance to say it over and over again. This is the closest you will ever get to one of my residents ever again. You got this close because we underestimated you, and that is a mistake that won''t be made again. I already know about Sir Norsberg. His daughter has already been moved to a secondary location, and will have another set up if I even smell you coming near the spot I have her stashed in. Chances are Mr. Willis that you and I will never meet again. A shame really, I was actually beginning to like you."


    After saying that, Carlson started to walk backwards until he was right beside the passenger door of the van. He slowly slid into the seat and closed the door. Edgar watched as the van slowly backed away for a few moments before turning and vacating the parking lot as soon as possible. There was no telling where everyone was going from there, but he''d do his best to find out, eventually. Before pondering about it more, Edgar backed up and jumped back into the truck while one of Cyrus'' men took care of the rental car. Devon pulled the truck out and started to drive out of the parking lot. As they were pulling out of the lot and onto the streets, Jerome couldn''t help but speak first.


    "Congratulations guys," he said rather angrily, "We had the person we were looking for and had to give her back."


    "You''re welcome," Devon called back, "You ungrateful little shit."


    "I am grateful, but angry!" Jerome called back, "Now we are right back where we started: all theories and zero evidence! Can I take ''back at square fucking one" for $500, Alex?"


    "Well, it''s not like we''re out of money." Edgar said as he slouched in his chair to relax, "We have two options. We can split what''s left and go on a very, very long vacation or use those funds to try again."


    "You heard the man, mate." Devon started while making a sharp left turn, "He said he already moved Norsberg''s girl to throw us off."


    "He could be bluffing, but if he isn''t..." Edgar suddenly pulled a piece of paper from his jacket, "We have many more names to pick from. Once one or two of them is exposed, what would be the point of keeping them all in hiding? They would have to let them go if caught."


    "Interesting plan, I''ll have to think about it." Devon replied honestly, "I might need some time after what happened to my people."


    "I wouldn''t mind doing a little more research before trying again anyway." Jerome added, "So maybe a little break wouldn''t hurt."


    "I kind of thought so." Edgar concurred as he put the manifest back into his coat pocket, "We have plenty of time. Let''s also see what Norsberg has to say about it as well." After he said that the three of them were pretty much silent as they made their way to a rendezvous point to meet up with Cyrus. He was waiting there with a few cars and about half a dozen armed men. Before any of them got out, his men did a sweep to make sure there were no bugs tossed onto it. Then after taking more than a few minutes to make sure Jerome was clean, Cyrus handed Edgar the keys to one of the cars.


    "All clear." Cyrus called out, "Thanks again for your business. No offense, but I might be keeping my distance for a little while after this job."


    Edgar laughed, "While I certainly don''t blame you for feeling this way, I''m sure we can negotiate something later. Until then, thanks for your help. This won''t be forgotten."


    He held out his hand and they shook before Edgar took the keys and took the car. Devon and Jerome jumped in and they sped off for a new destination, a temporary location where they could sort stuff out until they knew what to do next. Like the trip to the rendezvous, none of them said a single word on the ride back to the city.

 Chapter 50

    It was a bright and very warm day when Edgar arrived to the office of the barristers. He had never been to London before but when the lawyer had said it something to do with Norsberg''s estate, it was something worth making the flight over the Atlantic to look into for himself. Edgar wasn''t really surprised by how long it took the barrister to contact him. With estates that large, it can take a while to go through all the paper work and get everything organized. It had been over five weeks since the old fart passed away in his sleep, but Edgar was sure the fight for his money was only about to begin. In their group, Jerome took the loss the hardest. It wasn''t because he was close to the old fart because they had never really formally met. Jerome was convinced that Norsberg was knocked off by the people who wanted to cut off their funds to continue the search for the missing passengers.


    Despite his theories about the passing of the old fart, he was there with Edgar to find out in person what business the PI had with the estate. Any tourist sites that he happened to take in during this visit along with any portions of fish & chips consumed were clearly an added benefit. They spent two nights in the city before their booked appointment, making sure that this wasn''t any kind of entrapment. Working with Jerome and his encounters with Mr. Carlson made him a tad paranoid with his work, and he always checked to make sure things were tip top before making any kind of move. While it''s a bit vain to think that he would be outlaw #1 in the eyes of the program, Edgar wasn''t willing to take any chances, at least for the time being. They arrived to the building about twenty minutes before their scheduled time, and slowed strolled into the lobby. It was an elegant building, very old in its architecture but classy and very upstanding. As they walked in, they approached the desk and the lovely young lady that was behind it.


    "Good afternoon gentlemen," she said with a warm smile, "How can I help you today?"


    "I''m Edgar Willis. I have an appointment to meet with Mr. Shivers."


    "One moment please." she jumped on the phone and after speaking with someone for a few moments, she turned back to them both, "Have a seat. Someone will come to get you shortly."


    "Thank you." Jerome said as they both took a seat in the very comfortable leather couches.


    They sat there and wait for close to ten minutes, until finally someone came down the stairs from the second floor and greeted them with a smile, "Thank you for waiting Mr. Willis. I''m Forest Shivers, the barrister handling Sir Norsberg''s estate. I apologize for the wait, please come with me."


    Edgar and Jerome followed the man up the stairs to his well polished office and took a seat in front of the barrister''s desk. Once they were comfortable, Edgar asked the first question, "Did Norsberg leave anything from the estate for me?"


    "From what we can tell, no." the lawyer admitted quickly, "But in his last revised will, he asked that this be given to you." He reached out and offered Edgar a single envelope. It was a thin, standard eight by eleven inch envelope, and looked too thin to contain the funds he was hoping to get to continue the search he wanted to start.


    Edgar took the envelope, and realized that it was still sealed. It was likely never opened since Norsberg himself sealed it before passing it on to this lawyer. He opened the envelope and took a quick glance at the contents. He looked back at the barrister, "Is this all?"


    "Yes. Is there anything else I can do for you?" he quickly asked.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    "No, we''ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you." Edgar said as he stood up and shook the man''s hand before making a quick exit.


    Jerome quickly shuffled out behind him, but before he could say a word Edgar held up his hand which pretty much asked him to remain quiet.


    "Not here," Edgar said, "Follow me."


    They quickly exited the building and Jerome followed the PI a few blocks until the reached a small park they had passed while riding in the cab. Edgar strolled through the park until he found an empty bench and took a seat. Jerome quickly sat beside him and had that ''what the fuck is going on'' look in his face. Edgar took a deep breath.


    "Do you remember that manifest that Norsberg gave us when I took this case." He asked.


    "Yeah, I have it right here." Jerome took the facsimile from his coat pocket. It was folded up, but was still in relatively good shape.


    Edgar never took the copy from him, but instead reached into the envelope and pulled out another that looked just like it, "Check this one out."


    Jerome was careful when he took the piece of paper and quickly compared it to the one he had with him


    "This is the original." Jerome informed him, "I can''t believe Norsberg left this for you. Do you think he did this aware that he might pass away or be taken out before this was all done?"


    "I think he wanted to make sure everything was taken care of just in case. He was picky about that kind of thing." Edgar concurred, "This way even after his passing, he would be able to control what happened to make sure what he wanted to see happen come to fruition, which would explain this." Edgar reached into the envelope again and pulled out another piece of paper, a single blank sheet with a hand written letter. Jerome took the letter from Edgar and read it to himself:


    Dearest Edgar:


    I''m not one to panic, but after what happened to poor Tuck I wanted an insurance policy. In the event something happens to myself during the course of our adventure, I wanted a backup of sorts in place. If you are reading this dear boy, I have passed on and will not be able to enjoy the fruits of our labors. All that I ask is for you do this old man one last favor and finish the task I set forth. Please find her and bring her home to her mother and family.


    Sincerely,


    Nigel


    PS: 98829-31409-19512


    Jerome took a moment to read the letter again, and then looked back at Edgar, "Do you know what this number is?"


    "It''s an account number." Edgar replied, "I recognize it because it''s a bank that Norsberg and I used often to exchange funds back when Tuck and I were on better terms with the rich old fart. Chances are the old bugger opened this account in my name and made a substantial deposit into it. This makes sense because it would give us instant access to money instead of having to fight his decedents in court for every penny in court. That also means we''re going on another field trip."


    "So we''re leaving London already?" Jerome whined as he was just starting to like hanging around the Brits.


    "Well, we could stay if you have a problem veggin'' in the Grand Caymans for the next week or so." Edgar said with a smirk, "I for one could use a little sun."


    Jerome gave the original manifest back to Edgar, "So do you think there''s enough in that account to finish the task that''s been given to us?"


    "If there''s one thing Norsberg is good at, it''s making sure you have enough to work with." Edgar said as he safely stowed away the manifest. He took one quick look at it as he slid it back into the envelope. There were a lot of names to work with.


    It was a tall task Norsberg has set for him, especially since his daughter was likely already moved as a precaution. Edger would at least give it his best effort not only for Norsberg, but for Tuck, the boys and himself. He wouldn''t be able to take a dime of the money waiting for him in the Caymans if he didn''t at least make an effort to fulfill the old man''s last wish. The two of them left the park and took a taxi back to the hotel to pack up and check out. It was time to move on and start a new adventure.

 Note From The Author

    The novel you have just finished reading is fiction.


    The characters and their adventures were made up by the author (aka me) for the sole purpose of telling a story in the hopes that it entertained you, my readers.


    However, the conspiracy theories presented in this novel concerning the alleged crash of Flight 77 are quite real. There are many websites and video documentaries that present evidence that suggest whatever crashed into the Pentagon on September 11th, 2001 was not a Boeing 757. There are millions of people out there who believe these theories, and have been calling on the government launch a new, fully independent investigation into the attacks in both Washington and New York on September 11th, 2001.


    I''m not going preach or tell you what to think. My humble request is that you look up and examine the sites and videos I examined while doing the research for this book, and then draw your own conclusions. If you look at these sites, they will present some rather alarming theories and surprising evidence that to this day has not yet been refuted:Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    http://www.911truth.org/


    http://www.pilotsfor911truth.org/


    http://www.septembereleventh.org/


    http://www.scholarsfor911truth.org/


    http://www.loosechange911.com/


    http://www.ae911truth.org/


    This is just a small sample of the sites that are out there that look into the possible alternate theories to what happened on that infamous day. I personally don''t know for sure what happened on September 11th, but the one thing I do know is that more investigating needs to be done. The questions we have need to be addressed and answered.


    Many questions that people want asked were not addressed by the 9/11 Commission. It was under funded, had no subpoena and no power to search for the truth. It was rigged from the beginning to fail. Right now the official story doesn''t add up and even the FBI has recently admitted that they have no physical evidence implicating Bin Laden to the attacks, only his own alleged confessions which were never verified nor confirmed.


    So where does the evidence lead us? Take a look and find out.


    "Those that fail to learn from history, are doomed to repeat it." - Sir Winston Churchill