《The Mongoose》 Prelude Prelude March 14th, 1975 Xuan Loc, South Vietnam, 40 miles northeast of Saigon The western sky was ablaze with captivating orange and red hues as the sun was close to setting on the western hills surrounding the small Southeast Asian city of Xuan Loc. The oppressive daytime temperatures had subsided, leading to a warm and humid evening that was much more tolerable for Peter Jensen, who absolutely hated the insufferable heat. It just made his difficult situation even more arduous. He could say nothing, and no one would ever know, but his moral compass had returned north and convinced him to change his course. As he lay in bed, he finally decided that the madness had to stop. It was destroying him emotionally and physically. Tears ran from the corners of his eyes and down onto his neck until they were finally soaked up by his pillow. He had fallen into a rabbit hole with seemingly no way out, and when he looked into the mirror, all he could see was the Mad Hatter staring back at him. Peter was not immersed in self-pity, only self-loathing. He detested himself for being a coward. He longed for a woman''s touch and was beguiled by her beauty from the moment he first met her. But it was all an illusion. Peter had deceived himself into thinking that what he was doing wasn''t wrong. Yet, in his heart, he knew all along that it was. Now tonight, just like Toto in The Wizard of Oz, the curtain had been pulled back and completely shattered that illusion into a thousand pieces. Peter had witnessed something evil in her, and there was no way he could live with himself. He was playing a dangerous game; a game that could ultimately end his life. Peter was now standing on the banks of the river called retribution, and once he started to cross, there would be no turning back. Peter finally found the courage to get up and walked over to the old wooden secretary''s desk in the corner of the next room. Peter opened the top right-hand drawer, pulled out two sheets of white paper, and started his letter. With the first few words he put down on paper, the weeks of self-loathing disappeared, and a wave of total peace fell over him. It was as if a great millstone had been removed from his shoulders. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Compiling the letter was painstakingly slow, but it had to be done this way. He wanted to get the letter off before he was ordered back to Saigon in a few days. He could then get the evidence to the station chief, and it would be over except for his punishment. A punishment that he knew he deserved and would gladly accept. An hour slipped by quickly, and he was almost done when he heard it. Instantly, he knew his lack of eye contact with the killer that evening had betrayed him. It was a slight sound coming from the back door of his small quarters. He quickly glanced at the laminated clock on the desktop. It was nearly two A.M. He turned to look at the door and froze with fear. The doorknob was slowly turning, first one way, then the other. He could see the door being pushed slightly inward at the same time. His greatest fear had come to pass. At that moment, he wished he was back on the farm in Minnesota, but unfortunately, there was no magic carpet or ruby slippers that could take him there. He only had a few seconds or a couple of minutes at most before the inevitable would happen. Peter didn''t panic, but he needed to hide his letter quickly. His hands started to shake as he placed the two pages into a manila envelope used for CIA correspondence. Peter then spun the red string around the button below the flap. Without realizing it, he had dropped one of the pages, which had fallen to the floor. Thankfully, Peter spotted it. Realizing he would soon be out of time, he picked up the sheet, grabbed a stapler, fastened it to the outside of the envelope, and hid it in the only place he could think of. He knew he didn''t have time to hide it in the box. It would take too long to open it. Just as he had finished this, he turned and looked at the door that was now slowly being opened. Peter started to tremble as he watched his worst nightmare walk into the room. Chapter 1 Part I The Vietnam War Chapter 1 April 7th, 1975 There was a slight breeze in the air as Sergeant Jesse Taylor drove his battle-scarred Army Jeep through the streets of Xuan Loc and up to the gates of the Governor''s mansion. He double-pumped the brakes at the security checkpoint and was barely able to stop. He spoke briefly with the guard on duty, and then drove around to the back of the two-story French Colonial building that had seen better days. After years of war, the Governor''s home had lost most of its luster and desperately needed paint and masonry work. The beautiful gardens that once graced the grounds were overgrown, and to anyone who had seen their former beauty, they were hardly recognizable. As Jesse passed the front entrance, he noticed an enclosed army supply truck with the Governor''s staff swarming around it like a pack of busy bees packing it with the Governor''s household belongings. Jesse smiled and said out loud to no one in particular, "Fucking Rats deserting the sinking ship¡­ can''t say I blame the bastards." As he approached the back of the mansion, he saw two ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam) guards sitting in a Jeep by the back entry. They stirred as he approached their vehicle and then relaxed when they recognized the familiar face. He double-pumped the brakes again and tried to pull up next to the two guards but overshot them by several feet. He backed up until he was face to face with the two bored men. "Good evening gentlemen. Is her Royal Highness at home?" Jesse asked with a bright smile. Both guards just nodded and hardly moved a muscle. "You stay all night again?" One of the guards said in not-so-perfect English. "Really¡­I¡¯m assuming that was a rhetorical question?" He quickly replied. The guards looked at each other with confused looks on their faces. Jesse could see he wasn''t getting through to them. The two spoke in ti¨¦ng vi?t for a few moments. Jesse couldn''t speak the language, although he did pick up one word, "Asshole." Then, without any further banter, they waved him on. Jesse shoved the Jeep into first gear and pulled it beside another Jeep parked by the mansion''s back porch. He hit the brakes again; however, this time, the back porch stopped the one-ton vehicle, not the brakes. Jesse jumped out, walked past the guards, and said. "I can''t wait to get rid of that piece of shit!" then took the porch steps two at a time. He walked up to a door used in the past to house the Governor''s household staff and knocked lightly. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Jesse was a solidly built man with broad shoulders and a lean, hard body that required little maintenance to stay fit. He was a naturally gifted athlete who wasn''t tall by NBA standards; however, he was taller than most men at just over six feet tall. Not many women would say that he was cute. But he was ruggedly handsome. He had piercing big blue eyes, short sandy blond hair, and a perfect olive complexion. He possessed a playful personality that would light up any room he entered, with an amazing smile and an upbeat nature. These qualities also attracted the attention of almost every woman he met, including the woman on the other side of the door. Sydney''s heart started to race just a bit when she heard the soft knock. She hadn''t been with Jesse for several days and was excited as a schoolgirl on a first date. Sgt. Jesse Taylor was one of the few things she enjoyed in this god-forsaken country, a country and a people that she came to loathe. "Who is it"? Sydney''s voice was very soft and sensual, knowing full well who was on the other side of the door. "It''s the big bad wolf, Ma''am." "Are you alone, Mr. Wolf?" "No one out here but me and a few ants¡­oh, and, of course, your ever-alert bodyguards." Sydney laughed slightly and asked, "Have you come to ravage me, Mr. Wolf?" "I think maybe the other way around would be more like it," Jesse said in a shallow voice, thinking she wouldn''t hear him. "I heard that, mister," she said, pretending to be offended. The door opened a crack, and a long, slender arm reached out and pulled him inside. Sydney Perotti looked stunning in her white terrycloth bathrobe despite her short, dark, auburn hair still wet from her recent shower. Her robe was intentionally left open far enough to show off her perfectly formed breasts to pique Jesse''s interest, not that he needed any encouragement. Sydney was a thoroughbred. She had the face and body of a supermodel. At five-nine, she was almost as tall as Jesse. Sydney had a beautifully sculptured face, full sensual lips, and large hazel eyes that, when closed, were covered by long, thick natural eyelashes and flawless skin. And when she smiled, her perfect white teeth sparkled. "Che Bella Donna," Jesse said when he gazed at her beautiful face and body. "You flatter me, Mr. Wolf. And you speak Italia, I''m impressed. I also see that you cleaned the road grime off yourself." "Well, when in Rome." ¡°Then, let me show you a little Rome. Mr. Wolf.¡± Sydney stepped back and opened her robe, fully revealing her near-perfect body. As Jesse¡¯s eyes grew larger, so did his smile. He removed his shirt and let it drop to the floor then he stepped forward and slipped his hands inside her robe, and very slowly moved his hands over her exquisite body. She arched her head back and felt a surge of excitement as his hands touched areas of her body that made her tingle with delight. ¡°You smell absolutely wonderful,¡± he said softly as he buried his face in her damp hair. Jesse gently ran one hand over her face, then moved his lips over hers until she pulled him closer into a deep, passionate kiss. They separated for just a moment and looked into each other¡¯s eyes. Then Sydney moved into him, and their lips met again; however, it was much longer this time. Sydney pulled back long enough to whisper, ¡°Carry me to my bed, Mr. Wolf.¡± Being the good soldier that he was, Jesse obeyed her orders obediently. He very gently lifted her off the floor and carried her to her bed while she continued to kiss him. As he made his way the short distance to her bedroom, he could smell the jasmine in her hair and thought how lucky he was to be feasting at a five-star restaurant while his brother-in-arms was sampling the local fare at a nearby brothel. Chapter 2 Chapter 2 The following morning, Sydney was in the shower, letting the hot water stream over her body while Jesse had propped himself up on a pillow, smoking a cigarette. Idling the minutes away, he watched the frayed ceiling fan drive cable make its journey from the motor mounted on the wall to the fan blades in the center of the room. He was amused as the blades squeaked and wobbled but could still carry out their intended purpose of moving air throughout the small room. He wondered when the last time it had seen any maintenance¡­probably years, if ever. Sydney came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body and tucked in just above her breasts. "I see you finally woke up, sleepyhead. Did you wear yourself out last night?" Sydney teased. "Come over here, you gorgeous thing. I''ll show you who''s worn out," Jesse said with a sly grin while putting out his cigarette. "No, I have to get ready for my meeting with General Dao and his staff in an hour. Sanders will be picking me up very soon." "Five minutes, that''s all I want, I promise." "No, sweetie, you''ve had enough. Besides, you need to save your strength for your stroll through the forest later today." "Two minutes, please." "God, is that all you men think about? No, I''m clean, and I intend to stay that way; now get out of bed and make yourself useful and make some shitty coffee that you''re good at making while I get dressed." "Can I at least help you put your bra and panties on?" She turned and looked at him with a bemused look on her face. "God, you''re incorrigible, you know that, don''t you?" "Yes, but you probably wouldn''t like me if I wasn''t." She started to laugh and said, "That''s probably very true. Now, will you make some coffee¡­please?" Undeterred, Jesse said, "If you come over here and give me a kiss, I will." "If you''re trying to get me into that bed again, it won''t work. But I will give you a little kiss if that''s what it''s going to take to get your cute little rear end out of my bed." Sydney sat on the edge of the bed, leaned into Jesse, and kissed him tenderly. "God, you smell good," Jesse said as he pulled her gently into him and tried to pull off her towel. She immediately pulled back and slapped his hand. "Stop that; you''re just going to get yourself all worked up." "Too late, I''m already worked up." "Ahhh¡­you men, you''re all alike. All you want is sex, sex, sex." "Well, what''s wrong with that?" Jesse said sincerely. He pulled her close again, but this time she didn¡¯t resist. As they kissed, his hands moved under her towel until her breathing started to come in quick, short bursts, and her passion started to rise. Realizing what was happening, she pulled herself away and said, ¡°You bastard, I¡¯m not going to make love to you again; I need to get ready for my meeting.¡± But a few seconds later, she leaned into him, and a short while after that, the towel came off, and she slipped into bed. ***** Twenty minutes later, Sydney was back in the shower, cursing herself for her lack of control but inwardly contented by the man who had her completely enchanted. Jesse slowly climbed out of the bed and lit up another cigarette. Finishing it, he walked to his bathroom. After splashing hot water on his face and brushing his teeth, he went to the kitchen. Jesse was drinking coffee when Sydney came into the small kitchen. She poured herself a cup of black steaming coffee and gave Jesse a quick kiss before she pulled up a chair across from him and sat down. ¡°Coffee doesn¡¯t smell that bad,¡± Sydney said as she put her lips to the coffee cup. ¡°It¡¯s a little strong. I think I might have used too much coffee grounds. What have your top spy boys heard about the latest troop movements?¡± Jesse asked as he lit another cigarette and took a sip of coffee. He took up the bad habit when he first arrived in Vietnam. His mother was a dentist and would undoubtedly kill him if she knew he was ruining his beautiful white teeth with tobacco smoke. "We got word that there was another assassination attempt on President Thieu yesterday," Sydney said casually. "A South Vietnamese pilot bombed the Independence Palace with his F-5 Tiger. Apparently, he''s okay, but Thieu''s government is in sorry shape. A few days ago, the South Vietnamese Senate recommended forming a new government. That''s shaking up a lot of people. The Prime Minister resigned, and Thieu replaced him with one of his cronies. He also arrested a few army commanders for the debacle in the Central Highlands for their failure to hold Nha Trang." Jesse flicked his hand and said, "The price you pay for command, laurel wreath one day and the next your head has been removed from your body, and it''s rolling on the ground." ¡°We¡¯re gathering the latest intel on NVA troop movements in the meeting this morning. But it looks like two or three days before the first engagement here.¡± ¡°Well, you should know, little Miss CIA spook.¡± Sydney shot him a glance that said, don¡¯t go there, mister. ¡°I am not a spook; I am a CIA interpreter and data analyst,¡± Sydney said with a bit of irritation in her voice. ¡°You can call yourself anything you want, but anyone who works for the CIA is a spook in my book.¡± ¡°Whatever you say, Mr. Macho Green Beret man,¡± was her terse reply. After a few moments of silence, Jesse said, ¡°Ok, I¡¯ll be nice; please continue, Miss Data Analyst,¡± while pretending to look sincere. Sydney gave him a hard stare for a few moments before they both started to laugh. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s move on. Graham Martin refuses to believe the SIGINT we are giving him and has stopped all daily briefings. I think he¡¯s in denial that the war is all but over. Rumor has it that Frank Snepp said that he threatened to cut the balls off of Tom Polgar, the Saigon station Chief.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s Frank Snepp? You never mentioned him before.¡± Jesse asked as he leaned back in his chair and blew smoke rings. ¡°He¡¯s the chief CIA strategy analyst stationed at the US Embassy in Saigon. Sanders and I answer to him. I¡¯m going to make some tea.¡± ¡°What, you don¡¯t like my coffee.¡± Jesse put on his best act of being hurt. Sydney got up, gave Jesse her best smile, then came around the table, pulled his head back, and kissed him on the forehead. ¡°Poor baby, you don¡¯t belong in the kitchen,¡± she said as she walked to the stove to light the burner. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying Ambassador Martin believes he has better Intel than the CIA. What the hell does he use, a crystal ball?¡± ¡°Martin was an Army Intelligence Officer in WW2. He thinks he can sort through the bullshit better than we can. I¡¯ve met him several times. He¡¯s a charming and intelligent man, but he¡¯s also a staunch anti-Communist who believes we can still hold onto Xuan Loc with the ARVN 18th Infantry Division and Tiger Force Ranger Units. Everyone thinks he¡¯s delusional, including Kissinger, President Ford, and of course¡­myself.¡± Sydney heard a light knock on the door and went over to answer it. A few seconds later, an old Vietnamese woman who cooked and cleaned for Sydney was ushered in. They both entered the small kitchen, and Sydney sat back down while the old woman gave Jesse a slight bow, took his coffee cup, and said. ¡°I make tea for you, no shit coffee,¡± she gave him a stern look and turned away. ¡°I think she likes me,¡± Jesse said with a slight chuckle. ¡°You do have a way with women,¡± Sydney replied. After giving the old woman her breakfast request and job duties for the day, Sydney turned her attention back to Jesse. ¡°Are you and Shawn going out on recon with the Tigers today? ¡°Yeah, it looks like one more night, and then it¡¯s back to Saigon in a couple of days. After we pulled out all of our troops in seventy-three, I feel we¡¯ve come full circle here. We started as advisers to the South Vietnamese Government in the 1950s, and we¡¯re ending it the same way. But you know what the sad thing is? As I see it, we¡¯ve accomplished very little, and a lot of good men have lost their lives. To me, it¡¯s all senseless.¡± This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Jesse became very quiet now, and for the first time since he entered Sydney''s quarters, his infectious smile eluded him. He was reflecting on all the friends he''d lost. Sensing his change, Sydney asked Mia in her native language if the tea was ready. She replied that it was and brought over the steaming liquid on a silver platter. Mia poured the tea for both of them, then left to get their breakfast in the mansion''s central kitchen. As they waited for Mia to return, Sydney said, "You know we''ve only known each other for a few weeks, and I still don''t know where you grew up and not much else about you for that matter." "Well, we have been busy! But my past is boring compared to your world travels and academic achievements, not to mention you being a spy." Jesse said, trying to change the subject. He felt wholly inadequate compared to Sydney''s pedigree. Sydney knew what he was up to, and she wasn''t having any part of it. "Are you trying to goad me, mister? I''m not a spy or a spook, but I am dangerous and will hurt you. Now, please tell me about your family and all your girlfriends back home, wherever that is?" She enjoyed watching him squirm; he had avoided talking about himself in their past encounters, but she knew it was just a matter of time before he would open up. "Alright, you win," he said with a sigh. Before he started, he leaned forward and looked in both directions, pretending to look for any eavesdroppers or lurking spies. "I didn''t want this to get out, but you pushed me into a corner. Remember, this is classified stuff I''m about to tell you." Jesse let out a long sigh before he continued. ¡°I was abducted and raised by Gypsies.¡± He paused to see the reaction in her face and was met with only an amused stare. ¡°We went from town to town drinking, singing, dancing around campfires, and occasionally stealing pigs and chickens. My new mother, Jezebel, was a fortune teller and a very good one, I might add, and my new father, ahhh¡­Yoska had a gift of relieving people of their assets, which made him very unpopular with the local constables. My sister engaged in what some would say was the world¡¯s oldest profession, but I didn¡¯t hold that against her, well¡­. maybe just a couple of times. You know, someday I might need to see a shrink about that. But anyway¡­. for my part, I sold snake oil to the unsuspecting suckers, ah¡­I mean lucky customers. All in all, I had a wonderful childhood with them. Now, are you happy?¡± he said while brushing back a false tear from his eye. Sydney just stared at him and finally said, ¡°Are you enjoying yourself?¡± She said with a bit of indignation in her voice. Jesse lowered his head and arched his eyes upward to look at Sydney with a sad look. With no smart retort forthcoming, Sydney asked in a mocking tone, ¡°And in what city did this alleged abduction take place?¡± Jesse raised his head in shock. ¡°Alleged¡­ now you¡¯re a lawyer on top of being a spy, a spook, and God only knows what else. And by the way, I was only five when I was abducted, so I don¡¯t know what city I lived in, for God¡¯s sake.¡± Sydney just shook her head and started to laugh. ¡°Ok, I give up, Jesse. I¡¯m sure Jezebel and ah, was it Yoska, were very fine parents.¡± There was a slight knock on the door again. "And oh¡­and by the way, you''ll be sleeping with Mia the next time you come over here. Now, let''s have some breakfast, shall we." Sydney got up, gave him another kiss on the forehead, and went to answer the door. "You know I didn''t want to tell you this, but since you brought it up, I''ve had my eye on Mia for quite a while now. You know, it might just work out. Sydney turned abruptly and put her hands on her hips, "You are such an asshole!" "Yes, but I''m a charming asshole," was Jesse''s quick reply. After several seconds and a beguiled look, Sydney said, "That you are, I admit." Mia came in with breakfast and served them while Jesse pretended to ogle Mia, which made Sydney laugh. While they ate, they made idle conversation about the war and its eventual outcome and aftermath. Sydney said that it was a shame the North would win the war. Vietnam would be frozen in time, just like Cuba, with an eventual embargo on all goods coming out of their country, unlike Japan and Germany, which now prospered after the United States had defeated them in WW2. After a few minutes of silence, Jesse unexpectedly started to tell Sydney about his real past. "I grew up in the small town of Bemus Point in western New York State. It sits on the banks of Lake Chautauqua. My mother is a dentist in Jamestown, a few miles away, and my father was a carpenter and painter who worked at the Chautauqua Institution." Sydney arched her eyebrows up for a moment and quickly tried to hide the recognition on her face, as she didn¡¯t want Jesse to stop. She had visited the Institution with her parents when she was twelve. Her father, a Wall Street power player and lobbyist, was invited by his longtime friend, a U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission member, to hear his lecture on global economics. While most Americans took vacations at Disneyland and SeaWorld, the social intellectuals and political elite spent theirs at The Chautauqua Institution. A learning center and resort for social, political, and academic issues where Plato, Aristotle, and Voltaire would have felt right at home. ¡°My grandmother died when I was thirteen, and my mother received a substantial inheritance. With it, my mom and dad purchased this big, run-down turn-of-the-century Queen Ann Victorian on the shores of Lake Chautauqua. Their dream was to open an Inn. The house was in pretty good condition on the inside but needed extensive restoration on the exterior. My dad and I must have put five hundred gallons of paint on that monster in the four years it took to finish it. Originally built by a wealthy lumber baron, the house has three stories, eight bedrooms, six fireplaces, four porches, two balconies, three bay windows, a turret, a tower, and massive amounts of decorative trim and elaborate brackets. But the thing I loved most was the copula. From the huge unfinished attic, a rough, wooden, spiral staircase led to a trapdoor in the copula floor. The trapdoor was perfectly counterbalanced, so a light pull of the operation rope would open and close the door. Climbing up, you entered this eight-foot diameter octagon room with plantation-style shutter windows that opened to let the summer breezes come in. The cupola had a door on one side that led to an octagon deck and railing with magnificent views of the lake and surrounding hills. On the deck was a park bench where I would sit and read for hours. In the summer, I would watch the sailboats glide by with their bright-colored sails filled with wind and dreamed of sailing on the Mediterranean Sea like the ancient mariners. My dad and I would sit up there after dinner. He would have a cigar and tell me stories. He could always make me laugh.¡± It was extremely hard for Jesse to talk about his father, and he paused momentarily to collect himself. ¡°My dad was a gunner¡¯s mate on the Yorktown in World War II. He saw action at the battle of the Coral Sea and Midway. He was eighteen when he enlisted in the Navy. He never talked about the war very much, only that his friends and shipmates who had died would stay forever young in his memories. He was a volunteer fireman in Bemus Point and a city council member, and he gave a lot of his time and money to the church or anyone who needed help. Everyone that knew my dad loved him.¡± The tone in Jesse¡¯s voice had changed as his emotions welled up inside of him. He paused again to collect himself while Sydney sat silently, deeply captivated by his story. For the events that he was about to tell her seemed like they happened only yesterday, yet on the other hand, they appeared to have occurred ages ago. "My dad never missed any of my football games or any sport I played. One fall night in our fourth game of the year, I couldn''t find my mom and dad in the stands. I was our team''s starting quarterback, and I remember the second-string quarterback coming into the game to replace me. I was confused when he told me the coach wanted to see me. When I was coming off the field, the coach was talking with the county sheriff and his deputy. The coach and sheriff put their heads down when they saw me coming. The scene became surreal; my heart started to beat fast, and I couldn''t breathe. I knew something was wrong. I couldn''t hear the crowd any longer; there was no sound, only silence. My legs felt like they were stuck in quicksand. I don''t remember walking up to the coach and sheriff, but somehow I got there. When the sheriff told me that my father had been in an accident, my heart sank, and all I could hear after that was, "I''m sorry, son." I don''t remember much after that. The world seemed to stop, and I fell to my knees. I remember saying, "Please God, this can''t be happening." Then, arms were around me, and I was being helped to the sheriff''s car, but I don''t remember walking. Apparently, after my dad left work that day, he stopped to help an elderly woman with a flat tire along the highway. He had planned to pick up my mother and drive to the football game. There wasn''t much room on the shoulder of the road, and a car traveling west at sunset was blinded by the oncoming lights of a semi-tractor trailer. My dad was off the road but was killed instantly when the driver moved over to avoid the semi and didn''t see my dad or the car on the shoulder." Jesse now had tears running down his face, and he stopped to wipe them away. ¡°My dad was my best friend. We did everything together; he taught me how to sail, hunt, fish, and play every sport you can think of. I was a gifted athlete and excelled in whatever sport I took up, but I was at my best on the football field. In my senior year of high school, we were approached by college recruiters from Penn State, Ohio State, and many others promising full scholarships and perks. School came easy for me; I was a straight-A student without trying very hard. But I loved school, and I loved to learn. That all changed when my father died. In fact, my whole life changed at that moment. But I¡¯ll tell you about that¡­another day.¡± Sydney was surprised by his sensitivity. She had only seen the tough side of the man that had intrigued and captivated her. Yet, Sydney hid her own feelings, or lack thereof, from the world. "I''m so sorry, Jesse; I didn''t mean to pry." She got up from the table and moved behind him; she put her arms around his shoulders and chest and rested her head on his. No words were spoken. Sydney simply embraced Jesse as he held her hands. Jesse started again, "At my father''s funeral, one of the gun crew from the Yorktown gave the eulogy. He told of my dad''s courage and bravery under fire. I became aware for the first time what a hero my father was. He had never shared with his family what he had gone through during the war. As the Japanese torpedo planes, dive-bombers, and fighters attacked the Yorktown at the battle of the Coral Sea, my dad loaded the quad fifty-six-caliber guns non-stop. When the gun captain and pointer were wounded and dying from the Japanese Zero''s fifty caliber guns, he said that my father knelt down and comforted them. What my father did next stayed with him for the rest of his life. During the heat of battle, he prayed with the dying men and held them as they died. He then jumped into the gunner''s seat and never stopped firing the big guns even though he was hit himself by shrapnel. At the battle of Midway, he was burned and wounded, yet he continued to help other shipmates before the ship was scuttled from its death blows by the Japanese attack. He received the Navy Cross and two purple hearts for his actions, but he never once showed them to me or my mother." After a long pause, Sydney said, "What a wonderful man your father must have been; I''m sorry I''ll never get to know him." Jesse bowed his head and said, "If I could only be half the man he was, I would count myself to be a lucky man." Mia entered the small kitchen, started picking up the breakfast plates, and told Sydney she would be finished cleaning soon. Sydney checked the time and told Jesse that Dave would be there to pick her up very soon. ¡°Thanks for listening to me. I haven¡¯t told anyone that much about myself in five years except for Shawn,¡± Jesse said in a very somber tone. ¡°Any time you want to talk, Jesse, I¡¯ll be here for you,¡± she said sincerely. Jesse finally looked up, and his cheerful attitude returned, ¡°Well, you have your meeting, and I have to go and pull Shawn out of that house of ill repute before he gets too attached to it. Besides, I want to get out of here before Sanders gets here. No sense in stirring the pot.¡± Sensing his change, Sydney said, ¡°Since when were you ever worried about stirring the pot? And don¡¯t worry about Sanders; he¡¯s harmless.¡± Jesse laughed and said, ¡°I hope we have one more night together before we pull back to Saigon. I¡¯ll be thinking of you tell then.¡± They both got up and moved toward each other. ¡°You¡¯re so sweet. Come over here and give me a kiss, you big stud,¡± Sydney said in a sexy voice. They embraced and kissed for what seemed like an eternity until Jesse finally pulled away and said, ¡°I¡¯ll see you in two days, and we can continue where we left off.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t wait, Mr. Wolf,¡± Sydney said with a smile. Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Jesse opened the hood of his Jeep and then dug around in the back cargo area until he found a can of brake fluid. He unscrewed the top, dumped the last of its contents into the brake reservoir, and then slammed the hood just as another Jeep pulled around the back of the mansion. Jeffrey Emerson pulled up next to him and nodded. ¡°Good morning, Sergeant Taylor,¡± Emerson said cheerfully. ¡°Good morning Jeffery. Did you come to pick up Sydney?¡± Emerson just looked at him and cocked his head. ¡°Sydney told me that Sanders was picking her up today?¡± Just then, Sydney opened her door and waked the short distance to her Jeep. ¡°Good morning, Jeffrey. Sanders couldn¡¯t make it? She asked. ¡°All I can tell you is that he asked me to pick you up. He said he had something important to do this morning.¡± ¡°Well, we better get going then¡­ we don¡¯t want to be late for our meeting.¡± Sydney looked at Jesse, who was searching his Jeep for another can of brake fluid and said, ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, Mr. Wolf. Maybe we can work on that problem of yours.¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Jesse smiled, looked up from the cargo area, and said, ¡°Two days, Miss Perotti¡­oh, by the way¡­what¡¯s wrong with your Jeep?¡± It hadn¡¯t registered with him until now that Sanders or now Jeffery was picking her up. ¡°It won¡¯t start. A mechanic is supposedly coming by to look at it sometime today.¡± ¡°Well, good luck with that!¡± Sydney smiled at him and nodded, knowing he was probably right. Jeffrey started the Jeep, put it in gear, and said, ¡°Be careful out in the bush, Sargent. I hear it¡¯s a dangerous place out there.¡± ¡°I will do that, Jeff.¡± Not that you would know anything about that, Jesse thought. Although he wasn¡¯t open about it, Jeffery was gay, and he hid it quite well. Jesse wasn¡¯t fond of Jeffery. Not because of his sexual preferences, he could care less, but because he reminded him of Eddie Haskell, the little ass-kissing weasel from the TV sitcom Leave It to Beaver. Sydney blew Jesse a kiss, and Jeffrey gave Jesse a slight wave as he pulled away. Looking at them leave, Jesse thought, Spooks, what an odd bunch! ***** Jesse found another can of brake fluid, topped off the brake reservoir, and placed the rest of the can behind the driver seat. He got in, pumped the brakes, and found they were somewhat firm again. He then started up the Jeep, slammed it into reverse, and backed up until he was even with the same guards he had encountered last night. ¡°Sah-Yoh-Nah-Rah boys, see you in a couple of days,¡± Jesse said as he jammed the Jeep into first gear. One of the guards cussed him in Vietnamese and gave him the middle finger at the same time. Jesse didn¡¯t need a translator. He let out a slight chuckle and drove off. One thing Jesse had no way of knowing. It wasn¡¯t going to be a good day for Mr. Wolf! Chapter 4 Chapter 4 Jesse pulled up to the local brothel, jumped out of his Jeep, and entered the gentleman¡¯s club, not that any gentlemen could be found there. He was greeted by a young woman who recognized him and asked him in perfect English to follow her. Jesse shadowed the very attractive young woman through a bamboo and beaded curtain into a magnificent parlor. His olfactory senses were immediately filled with an interesting combination of French perfume and incense, which was quite pleasant. Plush Indian wool rugs covered the highly polished exotic wood flooring. The walls were covered with rich dark mahogany accented with bamboo. Hanging from every wall were ornately framed artwork by nineteenth-century painters Delphin Enjolras and Sir Lawrence Tadema, showing off the beautiful curves of nude women in seductive poses. Madame Chi was seated on a Victorian, red velvet Meeks Stanton Hall pattern sofa. The woman was striking in her white ¨¢o D¨¤i traditional dress embroidered with red roses. The dress was a tight-fitting silk tunic worn over pantaloons with long slits up each thigh. It was a very provocative dress, showing off her bust and curves. It is said that; ¡°The ¨¢o D¨¤i covers everything but hides nothing.¡± On either side of the sofa were two matching rosewood chairs covered in red velvet. Finishing off the setting were exquisitely carved mahogany end tables, elegant Victorian lamps with shades of burgundy lace, and chainette fringe laced with hand-beaded red and green crystals. A large Ming vase sat on the mahogany pedestal between two potted palms. It was said to have been a gift from a very wealthy admirer and was one of Madame Chi¡¯s prized possessions. Chi was a tall, attractive woman in her mid-thirties with long, beautiful black hair, a slender face with high rounded cheekbones, and large dark eyes. She wore blood-red lipstick over her very sensual lips. Her complexion was flawless, with just a light makeup covering and blush. Madame Chi¡¯s was by far the best gentleman¡¯s house in town. She got up and greeted Jesse as he walked through the bamboo curtain. The Vietcong had killed her parents and forced her into prostitution at a very early age, but at the age of fourteen, she escaped her captors and fled to Xuan Loc. Chi was intelligent and cunning and, over time, started her own brothel employing only the prettiest girls. The brothel was thriving now from the buildup of ARVN troops, and she put on more girls to service the men. Chi paid her girls well but with no forced servitude. Her livelihood depended on her being gracious, and she knew how to stroke the egos of the men who entered her establishment. ¡°Jesse, welcome back. It¡¯s always a pleasure to see you. I know just the right girl for you. Sit down and have some tea, and I will make a room ready with Sang, or do you want more than one?¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Shawn had told her that Jesse was seeing the pretty CIA dragon lady, although she hoped he wouldn¡¯t refuse her offer. She also suspected that he was there to pick up Shawn and wasn¡¯t there for fun. ¡°No girls today, but I will have some coffee if you have any? Where is Shawn? I need to round him up?¡± Madame Chi pretended to be disappointed by his refusal but rebounded quickly. ¡°You good customer¡­ I give you two for one price today.¡± ¡°No boom boom today, Madame Chi. Maybe next time. How about that coffee? Oh, and can you roust Shawn for me, please.¡± Jesse pondered the two-for-one offer, knowing it was five times the going rate anywhere else in town, but Chi also had the best girls in town. Madame Chi reluctantly gave in and said. ¡°I have Sanka if you like?¡± ¡°Thanks, that will be just fine.¡± Madame Chi ordered the young girl who escorted Jesse in to make some coffee and sat beside Jesse, admiring his rugged good looks. She had known many US soldiers in the past, yet none had captivated her like this man. Chi had often dreamed of moving to the United States, and her fantasies often included being with the man sitting beside her. Then again, Chi was a realist and knew her dreams would never come true. ¡°Shawn is bathing now. He should be down soon.¡± Chi informed him. ¡°I hope he¡¯s bathing by himself?¡± Jesse knew if he was in the tub with one of the girls, it might take way too much time. Madame Chi paused momentarily, then said, ¡°I believe he has two girls bathing him.¡± ¡°Shit, what bathroom is he in?¡± Madame Chi pointed up the stairs and said, ¡°Top floor, last door down the hall on the left.¡± Jesse took the stairs two at a time. When he got to the top floor, he could hear laughter coming from the end of the hall. He found the door and entered without knocking. Shawn was sitting on a seat in a large, square, wooden bathtub with steam rising from the surface. Two young girls were in the tub with him, and neither looked over sixteen. One sat on his lap facing him, while the other washed his back with a sponge. They weren¡¯t wearing bathing suits. ¡°Bro, come on in and join the fun,¡± Shawn said with a broad smile as the two girls pleaded for him to join them. ¡°I appreciate the offer, but I¡¯m saving myself for marriage.¡± Shawn let out a loud chuckle, ¡°Good one, bro, I love it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m going back downstairs, and I want your ass downstairs in ten. No, make that five. We have a meeting with Colonel Bennett, and we need to be there on time for a change!¡± ¡°Quick as I can, man, just as soon as these lovely things give me a thorough scrubbing.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you get enough last night?¡± Jesse said, using Sydney¡¯s line. ¡°I was drunk last night and don¡¯t remember a thing, so now I have to refresh my memory.¡± Jesse gave a loud sigh and turned to leave. ¡°Ten minutes tops,¡± Jesse said with authority as he closed the door behind him. Jesse returned and sat with Madame Chi, who had his coffee waiting for him. Chi moved close to Jesse and rubbed the inside of his thigh. ¡°Maybe you would prefer an older, more experienced woman?¡± Jesse knew Madame Chi turned down almost every man who wanted her and was surprised by her offer. She was only reserved for the elite class, and only a few made the cut. She was also very expensive. Being very diplomatic, he said, ¡°Thank you for your offer, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea right now. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t think you¡¯re desirable because I do. Unfortunately, Shawn and I have a meeting with some top brass in thirty minutes. But I will take a rain check.¡± Chapter 5 Jesse¡¯s mind now wandered back to an affair that he had with an older woman in Jamestown, NY. An affair that almost got him killed. After his father died, Jesse fell into a severe depression. His mother, his teachers, and his pastor all tried everything they could to help him, but his heart and spirit were broken. He started drinking heavily with his friends and teammates from high school. He had a fight with his longtime girlfriend over his drinking, and they broke up. His grades fell into the cellar, along with his morals. He started going out with the easy, sleazy girls in school that would give him instant gratification, and his performance on the playing field faded along with his scholarship dreams. Just before graduation on his eighteenth birthday, his downward spiral hit rock bottom. Drinking with some of his football teammates, he crashed on a friend¡¯s couch. He had known Paul Jackson for only one year. His family had moved to Jamestown for Warren, Pennsylvania, only twenty miles away. Paul was an outstanding fullback with great speed, large, powerful legs, and a broad upper body; he could easily tear through the opponent¡¯s line. In the middle of the night, he woke up with Paul¡¯s mother, Becky, whispering in his ear. Mr. Jackson was away on a construction site eighty miles away. She was wearing a sheer nightgown that revealed her voluptuous body in the soft light of the full moon coming through the large front window. Becky was an attractive woman of medium height, short brunette hair, large full breasts, and a sex drive that matched. Jesse had never seen her like this before. But it wouldn¡¯t be his last time. ¡°Jesse, I¡¯m going to give you a little birthday present that I promise you won¡¯t forget.¡± After that night, they saw each other for most of the summer until that one fateful day. Becky worked at a beauty salon in Jamestown, and her husband was a General contractor. Paul began working for his father full-time after he graduated, leaving Becky home alone on many days and nights. The Jackson home backed up to some heavy woods, and they had no neighbors for a hundred yards in any direction. Jesse would park his old Ford Mustang just off a dirt road a quarter mile behind the Jackson home in case Mr. Jackson came home unexpectedly. They could always hear Mr. Jackson coming home because his work truck badly needed a muffler. This gave Jesse ample time to scoot out the back door and into the woods. However, not this day, Mr. Jackson replaced his muffler with a new one. Walking in the back door, he went through the house looking for his wife, and that¡¯s when he heard them. Becky was a very vocal lover, and Mr. Jackson immediately knew she had company. Mr. Jackson quietly found and loaded his Smith and Wesson .357 Magnum revolver and made his way to the master bedroom, where he found the door partially open. All he could make out was a chest of drawers. He slowly opened the door with his foot until he could see the bed. He could now see his wife facing away from him, straddling someone on HIS bed. He became enraged, and his hands started shaking from the adrenaline that was being injected into his now-broken heart. Finally, he couldn¡¯t take it any longer and burst through the door. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°You fuckin whore, I¡¯m gonna kill you,¡± Jackson yelled out through quivering lips. Jesse was literally screwed. He was pinned down with no place to run or hide. But although Mr. Jackson was only a few feet from his cheating wife, the first shot blew out the headboard post just to the right side of her head. Jackson¡¯s hands were shaking so severely that it was a miracle that he held onto the big gun at all. Terrified, Jesse shoved Becky off to one side just as the second shot just missed her again and struck the headboard just inches over his head. The noise from the roar of the .357 in the small room was not only deafening, it was terrifying. Becky was screaming and pleading for her husband to stop, but he refused to hear her pleas. The third shot was pointed right at Jesse¡¯s head when Jackson pulled the trigger. Luckily for Jesse, it didn¡¯t go off. In his haste to load the revolver, his hands were shaking so badly that he dropped one shell onto the floor, thinking he had loaded them all into the cylinders. Jesse wasn¡¯t waiting around for the next shot. He flew off the bed and dove through an open window and through the screen at what seemed to be the speed of light. Now, Mr. Jackson turned his entire attention to the fleeing man. The fourth shot blasted out a chunk of the window frame just as Jesse passed through it. The last slug clipped his right ear as it flew by with the sound of a mad hornet, then cut a two-inch sapling in half twenty feet further into the woods. Thankfully, no more shots were fired that day. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson would later divorce, and Paul no longer talked to Jesse. Jesse joined the army two weeks later. Thinking back, Jesse laughed at the vision of himself running through the woods, naked as the day he came into the world. It gave him new insight into the term used in Vietnam; "every swingin'' dick." Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Fifteen minutes later, Shawn came down the stairs, all cleaned and polished, and joined Jesse and Chi in the sitting room. "Are you happy now?" Jesse asked with a little attitude in his voice. "Yeah, nothing like a warm bath in the morning to get the blood flowing. Got any more of that coffee?" "Can we get a cup to go for the smart-ass, please?" Jesse asked Chi. She smiled and nodded, then left the room. "You know we have to be at field headquarters in five minutes." "Boy, that''s cutting it close," Shawn said seriously. Jesse just gave him an incredulous stare that slowly turned into a smile. "Yea, Right, asshole." Jesse and Shawn walked through the bamboo curtain to find Chi waiting for them with the coffee cup in her hand. "Madame Chi, please take my advice and leave for Saigon today. This city will not withstand the NVA attack that is just days away." Jesse said with deep apprehension in his voice. "Thank you for your concern. I will think it over." Then Chi stepped into Jesse, kissed him tenderly, and caressed the back of his head. Pulling back, she said, "Be careful today. You''re such a beautiful man; I wouldn''t want anything to happen to you. Besides, you owe me that rain check." Stolen novel; please report. Blushing, Jesse put his head down and said, "I will be careful, but please consider what I said about leaving today. The NVA will not be as kind to you and your girls." Madame Chi just nodded and gently touched the side of his face. Shawn looked at the red lipstick plastered all over Jesse¡¯s mouth but said nothing to him. He just inwardly smiled. Jesse and Shawn walked the short distance to their Jeep, and when they got in, Shawn said. ¡°Wow, what the fuck was all that about, man? I was just about to tell you two to get a room. I can¡¯t even get a handshake from the woman, but she put a lip-lock on you that when you two were done, I thought about checking to see if she had taken out your tonsils. I¡¯ve been trying to get a little of that since I first laid my eyes on her but with not so much as a peck on the cheek. But she practically throws herself on you. And what was that, ¡°you¡¯re such a beautiful man shit?¡± I just about lost my cookies. Wow.¡± Jesse turned red again and said, ¡°What can I say¡­I think she likes me.¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t care if she likes me or not, but I sure as hell would like to take that tight little dress off of her. Jesse looked at him and said, ¡°You¡¯re such a fucking animal!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been called worse!¡± ¡°Asshole!¡± ¡°Yea¡­too many times to count.¡± They looked at each other and started laughing as Jesse hit the gas. As he drove, Jesse said, ¡°One or maybe two more days of recon, then it¡¯s back to good old Saigon.¡± ¡°Amen to that brother. By the way, you got any cigarettes, man?¡± Shawn said as he took a drink of coffee when the Jeep came to a stop in traffic. Jesse reached into his top pocket, pulled out a pack of Marlboros, and handed them to Shawn. ¡°I know you had two packs when I dropped you off last night; what happened to them?¡± ¡°I think those pretty young things stole them along with my virtue this morning.¡± Jesse glanced at him amusedly and said, ¡°Can I use that line¡­that was good?¡± ¡°What¡­ the cigarettes?¡± Shawn said very seriously. Jesse just looked at him, shook his head, and hit the gas without saying another word. Chapter 7 Chapter 7 Born Shawn Patrick Harris, he wasn¡¯t the biggest but he was one of the toughest, most hard-nosed bastards that anyone could ever run across. Unlike Jesse, there was nothing remotely charming about the man. His features and attitude were as hard and chiseled as his body. He wasn¡¯t unattractive. He simply looked tough even when he smiled. Part of that was due to a gift his stepfather gave him when he was twelve: a one-inch-long scar at the corner of his right eye extending down to his cheek. His hair was wavy and dark brown; he let it grow much longer than the military allowed. He had a square jaw with ears that were small and pressed to the side of his head, deep brown eyes, and an unbroken nose that was perfectly sized and shaped. Some women found him extremely attractive, and others he scared to death. Because of his fearlessness, lightning-quick moves, and never-give-up attitude, he earned the nickname ¡°The Mongoose¡± from the members of his unit at the Special Warfare Center at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Shawn grew up in Middlesboro, Kentucky, where Tennessee and Virginia meet at the Cumberland Gap National Park. If you were blessed with money and came from a good home, it was a beautiful place to live. But for Shawn¡¯s mother, Cindy, that wasn¡¯t the case. From the day she entered this world, her life had been filled with misery and despair. The layers of sadness and hopelessness she felt nearly every day overshadowed the beauty and serenity of the hills. Shawn didn¡¯t know his real father, and his mother came from a dirt-poor family with too many mouths to feed and absolutely no hope for the future. Her uneducated father found work wherever he could, although they mainly relied on the county or charity from a local church for their meager existence. They lived in a five-room shack southwest of town that backed up to the railroad tracks that was once used by hobos and ne''er-do-well¡¯s that rode the rails during the depression of the thirties. Her father made his own moonshine and was drunk most of the time. Cindy shared a bedroom with her older sister of three years, although it was more like a lean-to on the side of the shack then a bedroom. Many nights she would hear her father come in drunk and force himself on her older sister Sandy. Her sister would remain quite until after her father was finished and gone before she would softly begin to cry. Cindy would sometimes go and lie next to her and hold her until they both fell asleep, covered in their own tears. ***** When Sandy became pregnant, her father drove her to an old woman in the hills who took care of these things. The procedure didn¡¯t go well, and Sandy was forced to walk home in a cold spring rain because the old woman¡¯s car wouldn¡¯t start, and she had no other way home. Feeling cold and nauseous, Sandy stopped along the dirt road, walked over to an old oak tree, and sat down to rest. After a while, she couldn¡¯t feel the rain or cold any longer, and her uncontrollable shivering suddenly stopped. Then, a great calm washed over her, and she felt warm. Sandy knew she was dying, yet she had no fear. She embraced it. She knew that she would be free from the horror she was living every single day of her life. Sandy had contemplated suicide many times, but she never possessed the courage to carry it out. She had never gone to church much, yet she inwardly knew that taking her own life would displease God. She hoped there was a heaven because she had already seen and been through hell. Finally, Sandy slipped into unconsciousness and died from blood loss on that rain-soaked hill at the tender age of fourteen. She was finally at peace. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. When Cindy came of age, her father turned his sick, twisted lust on her. Many nights, she would wake up with her father¡¯s foul breath in her face, even though she tried to barricade her bedroom door. Depending on his state of inebriation, she sometimes could fight him off, but not always. Her cries went unanswered by her three younger brothers, and her battered mother turned a blind eye to the abuse of her daughters. Like her sister before her, she contemplated suicide many times, and like her sister, she never carried it out. Depression and guilt filled her soul. She had asked God many times for the nightmare to stop, but her prayers seemed to fall on deaf ears. She often asked herself why some of her school friends had such good families while hers was something out of a horror movie? For Cindy, life simply wasn¡¯t fair. It was cruel. Cindy often contemplated running away, however she lacked the courage or means to do it. She was a very attractive girl with plenty of male suitors vying for her affection. But when they tried to get close, she would go into her defensive mode and drove them all away. That is until she met him. He had a reputation for being tough, but when they were together, she found that he was exactly the opposite. He was kind, gentle and caring, and what really mattered was that he listened to her. When she became pregnant, her father didn¡¯t make the same mistake he did with her sister. Cindy dropped out of school and gave birth to Shawn just before her sixteenth birthday. One thing was certain, though; her pappy was not the father of her child. Shawn had no resemblance to the vulgar, disgusting man in any way, shape, or form. Shawn brought her amazing joy and gave her something to live for. She loved her sister, but this was a different kind of love she had never experienced before. Shawn belonged to her, and she promised she would not let anyone hurt him. Shawn¡¯s father was three years older than Cindy and wanted to marry her, but his father wanted nothing to do with her and her no-account family. Shawn¡¯s father was a tough little bastard of Irish ancestry whose daddy was a local county Magistrate and owner of a lumber mill where he worked part-time loading trucks. One day, the Magistrate paid a visit to Cindy¡¯s father to end the matter. He handed him an envelope filled with money in return for keeping his daughter away from his son. For him, the matter was closed despite what his son thought. With little prospects, Cindy married Jack Thomas shortly after she turned seventeen. Jack was five years her senior and an auto mechanic by trade who sometimes fixed her daddy¡¯s piece of-shit pickup truck at his shop. Cindy¡¯s father died one year later in a tragic logging accident when he was securing a trailer full of logs. One of the sides of the trailer he was assigned to help load broke loose, and the mass of logs crushed him to death. Immediately following his demise, cold, dark shadows flowed over and engulfed his body. His soul was carried away by unseen hands, and the trip to hell was a very short one for the man who had caused so much pain and suffering to this family. The young man who was loading the trailer got out of the Caterpillar 930 Log Loader and walked up to the pile of logs that contained the dead, twisted body of Cindy¡¯s father. A thin smile came to his face as he peered into the log pile and spotted the man. He walked over to the trailer with its broken side and looked underneath it. Next to a tire, he found what he was looking for: a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels that he had given the man who was now dead. Several men working in the area ran over to help, and they quickly realized the hard truth. The young man didn¡¯t attempt to move the logs with the log loader. He walked to his pickup truck and drove off the site as cold rain started to fall. Cindy¡¯s father was buried three days later and with only a handful of people present at his gravesite. There were no tears shed by anyone. In the aftermath, an inquiry into the accident showed that Cindy¡¯s father had been drinking and that the side rails on the trailer were faulty, thus clearing the young man of any liability, even though the trailer was obviously overloaded. The young man never worked at his father¡¯s mill again. He had accomplished his mission. Chapter 8 Chapter 8 Cindy bore Jack three children of his own. Twin boys one year after they were married and a girl the following year. Jack treated Shawn with indifference and tolerated him after Cindy threatened to leave him if he didn¡¯t stop abusing Shawn; however, that all changed when Jack hurt his back, lifting an inline six-cylinder engine block on a bet. He was a large man standing six-four and weighing just north of three hundred pounds. Jack was extremely strong, yet by not lifting the engine block properly, Jack damaged muscle tissue and tendons that would take a very long time to heal. He was unable to work steadily, and he began to drink and take prescription painkillers at an alarming rate. He insisted he needed to drink because of the pain. But the truth was altogether different. Before the accident, he was a weekend drunk. And after, he turned it into a full-time job. That¡¯s when he really started to take his anger out on Shawn. He was twelve years old when the beating started in earnest. His mother tried to intervene, and she threatened to leave him, but he did not stop. The beatings were so severe that Jack almost killed him on several occasions. Thankfully, Shawn had a head of granite, and over the years, he became hardened by the blows. He even taunted his stepfather with, ¡°Is that all you got, old man,¡± after a series of hard punches. At sixteen, Shawn took up Tae-Kwon-Do training from his Korean high school gym teacher, who had immigrated to the US just before the Korean War started. He also started working out hard on the weights at the high school gym. Shawn would push himself way past the burning pain deep in his muscles as the lactic acid worked its way out. He was looking forward to the day when he would be able to kick his stepfather¡¯s ass. When he turned seventeen, the weight training had done its job, and it was his turn to inflict some pain. On a fall day of his senior year of high school, Shawn came home after school to discover his mother lying on the kitchen floor, unconscious and bleeding from a head wound after a particularly vicious attack by his stepfather. She was barely alive when Shawn found her. Jack was lying on a stained, threadbare sofa, watching television and drinking moonshine. No one else was home at the time. From the kitchen, Shawn yelled, ¡°What the hell did you do to my mother, you fucking asshole?¡± as he picked up his mother and quickly made his way for the front door. ¡°The bitch has to learn to keep her fucking mouth shut,¡± was his curt reply. As Shawn was heading out the front door, he said in a calm guttural voice, ¡°You just wait right here because when I come back, I¡¯m gonna kick your ass, you son-of-a bitch.¡± Jack got up and shouted, ¡°Oh, you think you¡¯re a man now? Gonna defend the bitches honor! Well, I¡¯ll be right here waiting for you, sunny boy. Oh, bring an ambulance with you because you¡¯ll need it.¡± Shawn placed his mother in the front passenger¡¯s seat of his 56 Chevy two-door hardtop and raced to the hospital. His stepfather had never beaten his mother this badly before, and Shawn was in a rage. An hour later, after he was sure his mother would live, he traveled home. Shawn told the staff at the hospital that his mother had been involved in a car accident. He didn¡¯t want the police to question Jack before he had a shot at the bastard. Standing just under five-ten and weighing one seventy-five, Shawn was no match for his stepfather¡¯s size and strength. But Shawn was all muscle and extremely quick. He pulled his Chevy in front of their run-down home, opened the trunk, and grabbed a Louisville slugger baseball bat. He opened the front door and went after Jack the minute his feet hit the living room floor. Shawn Charged with the bat cocked back like he was going to hit a home run, but Jack jumped off the couch quicker than he expected. He started his swing when he was only four feet from his foe. Jack ducked his head and lifted his left arm to block the blow as the bat came crashing down at a forty-five-degree angle, intending to take his head off. Jack¡¯s forearm and shoulder took the brunt of the blow, and then he sent a right cross that landed squarely on the side of Shawn¡¯s head. The blow sent Shawn backward and knocked him to the floor. Jack kicked the cheap coffee table out of his way and delivered his size fourteen boot into the side of Shawn¡¯s ribcage. But just before the crushing impact arrived, Shawn¡¯s head cleared enough to pivot out of the way and sweep his leg. The wrestling maneuver caught Jack¡¯s stationary leg, sending the big man to the floor with a tremendous thud. Shawn was up, quick as a cat. Jack was not. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. "Get up, you bastard," Shawn yelled. Jack just laughed, "Look how''s callin'' me a bastard; who the hell''s your daddy, boy?" "Fuck you. Get up and fight." Jack rose slowly and shook his head from side to side while his eyes bore into his stepson. "Now I''m gonna put some hurt on you, boy!" Shawn didn''t reply. Jack rose and rushed Shawn. He was intent on connecting with another haymaker. Yet to Shawn, his stepfather seemed like he was moving in slow motion. Shawn easily sidestepped the rushing bull and connected with a hard left below Jack''s heart. The blow stunned him. As Jack turned to face Shawn again, he was hit by another blow. This time, a hard right connected to the left side of Jacks''s head and just below his eye. Jack tried to spin to his right, but Shawn''s left fist caught him in the ribcage again. This was instantly followed up with a hard kick to his kidney. Jack doubled over in pain, and Shawn sent a crushing right, left combination to the big man¡¯s chin. Jack felt his legs give out, and he fell to his knees. Shawn didn¡¯t wait for a standing eight count. He whipped his right leg in a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree spinning hook kick that connected on the left side of Jack¡¯s head just below his ear. Luckily for Jack, he didn¡¯t have far to fall. Like a giant oak tree having been cut by the lumberjack¡¯s ax, Jack swayed a bit before he came crashing down. He was out cold before he hit the floor. ***** In the aftermath, Jack Thomas was sent to jail for battery. Cindy filed for divorce and was granted a restraining order when Jack was released from jail a short time later. After high school, Shawn joined the US Army with few other options open to him. He was an excellent student, but it was a moot point without the means to pay for college. ***** On a hot summer night before the divorce was final, Jack watched the family home from a distance from his old Dodge pickup truck. At two in the morning, he cut the back screen door and slid open the cheap door hasp. All the bedrooms in the old home were upstairs except for Cindy¡¯s. With no air conditioning, Jack could hear the fan running on high as he slowly entered his former bedroom on the main floor. Cindy was sleeping on her side, away from the door, as Jack approached the bed. He pulled back the light sheet covering his wife, then grabbed her shoulder and rolled her face up. Startled, Cindy started to scream; however, it was cut off by Jack¡¯s powerful hands around her throat. Weighing only one hundred and ten pounds, Cindy was petite and no match for the intruder. She tried hitting and kicking the man, but he was too strong. Without the breath of life, her struggle slowly faded. Moments later, Cindy¡¯s spirit left her body, and she joined her sister in death. Jack finally relinquished his grip. Then he slowly turned and walked out of the bedroom. When Jack got to the stairway, he listened for any movement upstairs. After hearing nothing, he quietly left his former home for the last time. He then got into his truck and made for the border of Tennessee, just a few short miles away. ***** Shawn returned home from Fort Bragg for his mother''s funeral. He was inconsolable and riddled with guilt for leaving his mother. He reasoned that his mother would still be alive if he hadn''t left. Jack was the only suspect. The police searched the three-state area but found no trace of Jack Thomas or his pickup truck. With friends and family gathered around the gravesite, Shawn laid flowers on his mother''s casket and said goodbye. He wasn''t aware of the horrors of her childhood, only the abuse at the hands of her husband. Shawn and his brothers and sister hugged each other and cried for the loss of their mother. As he walked away from her grave, Shawn vowed that he would find and kill his stepfather if it was the last thing he ever did. He only hoped that he would find Jack before the police did. After the family had left the gravesite, Shawn¡¯s father finally approached Cindy¡¯s grave, and he also placed a bouquet of flowers on her casket. He knelt down and prayed for the woman that he never stopped loving. He had caved into his father¡¯s wishes, and now he regretted it with all his heart. As the car carrying the family pulled away, Shawn looked back and noticed a broad-shouldered man in an expensive-looking business suit approaching his mother¡¯s grave with flowers in his hand. He had never seen the man before and wondered who he was. Chapter 9 Chapter 9 Jesse and Shawn pulled up to the field tent, climbed out of their Jeep, and walked inside where Colonel Paul Bennett, the Commanding Officer of the MAC-V-SOG unit, and General Le Minh Dao were holding their meeting. They were fifteen minutes late and were met with some glares, catcalls, and good-natured ribbing from the assembled group of a dozen men as Colonel Bennett stared at Jesse and Shawn with a, where the hell have you been? Look. Air and ground reconnaissance maps were hung on a large board behind General Le with NVA troop movements shown in large red arrows with probable engagement points marked with X¡¯s. Colonel Bennett was going over enemy troop strengths and movements when Jesse and Shawn walked in and disrupted the meeting. After the two men settled in, Colonel Bennett continued with his recommendation of AVRN troop and equipment deployment points. The Tiger Force Ranger units had engaged four enemy recon teams in the past two nights, killing sixteen of their members. It was noted that there was a probable Chinese intelligence agent among the dead. General Le made the comment that the Communist backers were pretty sure of the outcome if a Chinese advisor was doing reconnaissance work up close and personal. After the meeting broke up, Colonel Bennett approached the two latecomers. ¡°Nice of you boys to join us this morning,¡± Colonel Bennett said in a tone that showed his displeasure. ¡°Sorry, Colonel, we were delayed by the crowded roads,¡± Jesse said, slightly embarrassed. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Although it was true that the majority of the population was fleeing the city, he was hoping that the Colonel would buy his story. But from the look he gave him, he wasn¡¯t. The simple fact was that he didn¡¯t want to tell him the truth. Colonel Bennett looked closer at Jesse¡¯s face, and a tight grin formed on his stern face. ¡°It looks like you ran into more than just a traffic jam this morning, soldier. I suggest you wipe off whatever that is on your mouth before someone gets the wrong impression of you.¡± Jesse wiped his lips with the back of his hand and glared at Shawn. ¡°You boys can sit this one out if you¡¯d like, or you can go out one more night with Captain Hung and his Tiger unit. We have a pretty good picture right now, but I¡¯ll let you make the call, Sargent.¡± It didn¡¯t take long for Jesse to give him his answer. He looked at Shawn, who just gave a slight nod. ¡°Colonel, Shawn and I would like to go out one more night with the Tigers if nothing more than to say goodbye to those good men before we head back to Saigon.¡± ¡°Good, then report back to me when you return. Godspeed, soldier.¡± As they were walking back to their Jeep, Shawn looked at Jesse and said, ¡°I think you missed a little spot right here,¡± pointing to a spot on his own mouth. Jesse smiled at him and then waited for Shawn to look forward again. When he did, Jesse came across with his right fist that landed squarely on Shawn¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Ouch¡­ that hurt you, asshole,¡± Shawn said, feigning pain. ¡°You¡¯re the asshole¡­you could have said something about the lipstick.¡± Shawn slightly chuckled, ¡°Well, you would have done the same thing to me.¡± Jesse thought about it for just a second, ¡°Yea, you¡¯re probably right, slick.¡± Chapter 10 Chapter 10 General Le Minh Dao met with the foreign media and stated, ¡°I am determined to hold Xuan Loc. I don¡¯t care how many divisions the Communists send against me; I will smash them all! The world shall see the strength and skill of the Army of the Republic of Vietnam.¡± Yet the truth was far more different than his version of reality. Jesse met with the Tiger Force Rangers'' unit leader, Captain Le Quang Hung. He was a resilient veteran who had been fighting the Vietcong and the North Vietnamese Army for over ten years. Captain Hung had been in the ARVN Special Forces for over six years and spoke excellent English. The CIA had trained him in intelligence gathering, sabotage, and psychological operations in the United States. Hung had been captured and tortured for two weeks by the Vietcong before he escaped and made his way south to freedom. The man was a very tough and capable soldier who had been wounded and decorated many times. Jesse walked up to the Captain and placed his arm around his shoulders. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Towering over the much shorter man, Jesse said, ¡°Captain, Shawn, and I will be joining you today if you will honor us with your company.¡± Hung smiled, ¡°The honor is mine, Sargent. I understand Colonel Bennett gave you two slackers a pass, and yet you two want to do a little humping in the bush? You two might want to have your heads examined when you get back to Saigon.¡± ¡°Well, Captain, no one said the Shawn and yours truly were all that bright.¡± Captain Hung laughed before saying, ¡°Quite the opposite, Sargent; you two are fearless and intelligent.¡± ¡°Well, sometimes I think bravery is associated with stupidity.¡± The Captain thought about that statement. ¡°You might have something there, Jesse. If you two clowns aren¡¯t at the chopper pad at fifteen hundred hours, we will leave without you.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll be there, Captain,¡± Jesse replied quickly with a grin. Chapter 11 Chapter 11 Shawn walked over to Jesse and asked if he had eaten breakfast. He replied that he had, but he was hungry again. They walked over to the mess tent and eyed the food the ARVN chef was serving. They decided to move on. When they left the tent, they ran right into Dave Sanders. Sanders was an imposing figure at six-two and two hundred and thirty-five pounds. He''d been in Vietnam for two years and was highly respected by everyone he worked with. Recruited by the CIA from Michigan State University, Sanders attended the "Farm" after graduation. Camp Peary is a military base near Williamsburg, Virginia, where CIA agents have been trained since 1951. Bright, young, and ambitious, Sanders was no pushover. After arriving in Xuan Loc, Sanders hit on Sydney when they both drank at a nightclub one night but was politely turned down. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Sanders grinned when he saw the two Green Berets coming at him. "Jesse, you lucky fuck, how''s it hanging, man?" Sanders gave him a slap on the back and nodded at Shawn. Jesse looked up at the big man. "We''re doing one more night of recon, and then we''re heading out." "Yea, this cluster fuck of a war is coming to an end, my man. I just hope the fucking politicians that are supposedly running our country and the jerkoffs at the Pentagon will learn something from this, but frankly, I sincerely fucking doubt it." "I couldn''t agree with you more. We''re heading over to a local spot for breakfast. Do you want to join us? Jesse asked. "I''d love to, but it''s imperative that I finish a report this morning. But thanks for the invite¡­my stomach isn''t looking forward to the abuse I''m about to inflict on it in there," Sanders said, pointing at the mess tent. "I hear you there, man," Shawn said. "Well¡­ guys, you take care now. I''ll see you later." Sanders said as he strolled toward the mess tent. Chapter 12 Chapter 12 Later that afternoon, both men sacked out in preparation for the long night ahead. Jesse woke after an hour of sleep and prepared his gear for the final detail. He threw his pack into his Jeep, started it up, and struck out to pick up Shawn at his bunkhouse. On the way, Jesse passed the CIA field headquarters. The traffic was slow due to the mass exodus, and he spotted Dave Sanders sitting behind the wheel of his Jeep on the side of the road. Jesse personally liked Sanders and pulled over to shoot the shit with him for a while. He pulled up behind Sanders¡¯s Jeep and jumped out. He walked over to the passenger¡¯s side and noticed that Sanders had his head lowered and was apparently reading something. Probably some secret spy shit, Jesse thought. He slipped in seemingly unnoticed by Sanders and looked at the handwritten letter in the big man¡¯s hands. ¡°Hey buddy, how was that breakfast of yours this morning?¡± Jesse asked. Sanders didn¡¯t appear to hear him; he just stared blankly ahead with his head slightly lowered. Then, Jesse noticed that Sanders looked extremely sad and troubled by something. Jesse placed his hand on his shoulder and asked, ¡°Dave¡­are you alright?¡± Sanders flinched as Jesse touched him, and it seemed to bring him out of his trance. ¡°Jesse,¡± Sanders said, seemingly startled. ¡°Is something wrong, Dave? Jesse pointed at the letter and asked, ¡°Did something happen at home?¡± Sanders looked at Jesse as if he was shell-shocked. Besides the single page in his hand, he noticed a manila envelope on his lap with its flap open and another piece of paper partially sticking out. What caught his eye first was the letter that Sanders was holding in his hand. It appeared that above each word were small random numbers and letters. The second thing that caught his eye was the paper sticking out of the envelope. It also contained random numbers and letters together with commas in between. At that point, he knew it wasn¡¯t a letter from home and waited for Dave to reply. Sanders finally composed himself and quickly folded up the letter and placed it into his top pocket. He then shoved the numbered page back into the envelope and tied the red string around the envelope flap securing button. ¡°No¡­nothing from home.¡± Jesse waited for him to clarify, but Sanders remained silent. A long moment passed, and Jesse decided to leave the man alone with his troubles. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got to pick up Shawn. I¡¯ll catch you later, Dave.¡± Jesse was climbing out of the Jeep when Sanders asked, ¡°Do you remember Peter Jensen, the CIA analyst who was killed about a month or so ago?¡± Jesse leaned back down and thought momentarily, ¡°Yeah, I met him in Phuoc Long early last December. He was a very quiet guy. Shawn and I came here about a week after he was found dead. Why do you ask? Does that letter have something to do with him?¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Dave nodded but didn¡¯t elaborate. Jesse could see that Dave was clearly troubled. ¡°While I was cleaning out my desk a short while ago, I found this envelope hidden under my desk drawer. Stapled to it was that handwritten letter you saw in my hands.¡± Jesse looked at the manila envelope on his lap and noticed a little corner of the page was torn off where it had been stapled to the front. Jesse nodded and said, ¡°Okay.¡± Waiting for Sanders to continue. ¡°Although it was not signed, I¡¯m positive that it was written by Jensen simply because of its content and the fact that he did occupy the room before me.¡± ¡°Do you mind if I read it?¡± Sanders shook his head. ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry, Jesse. I¡¯m sure that you heard that, according to the CIA¡¯s investigation team, Jensen was supposedly killed by an NVA infiltrator who was working with Jensen, and Jensen discovered his true identity. Well, this letter shoots that theory down. The letter implicates Jensen¡¯s killer, and it wasn¡¯t the NVA infiltrator that the investigation report claims it was. But you¡¯re a smart guy, and I think you could figure it out after reading it. Jensen was involved in something that got him killed because he was about to inform on someone. The letter states that he was into something way over his head, and his conscience got the better of him. He was writing the letter as an act of contrition, as a way to explain his actions.¡± Does the letter say what that was?¡± Jesse asked. Sanders shook his head, ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t, and I¡¯m not going to speculate. I¡¯ll let others sort that out. All I can tell you is that Jensen was paid to keep his mouth shut about something, and he began to have second thoughts; thus the letter, and I believe he was killed before he could finish it.¡± ¡°Do you know who killed him?¡± When he didn¡¯t answer immediately, and from the look he gave Jesse, he suspected he did. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally answered. ¡°Yes¡­ the letter does implicate someone, but I can¡¯t tell you who that is because the letter has not been verified.¡± When I return to Saigon, I plan on turning the letter over to Tom Polgar. Then the whole matter will be out of my hands.¡± ¡°Was the letter addressed to him?¡± ¡°No, the letter wasn¡¯t intended for him.¡± ¡°Who was it intended for?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe it was anyone in the government. I believe it was-.¡± Just then, a Jeep pulled up in front of them, and Jesse could see that Jeffery was driving and Sydney was in the passenger¡¯s seat. Even before the Jeep came to a stop, Jesse saw Sanders pivot in his seat, open the cargo hold, and place the manila envelope alongside an olive green tarp or tent. After Sanders closed the lid, he quickly turned back to face Sydney, who had gotten out of the Jeep and was moving toward them. ¡°What are you two big boys discussing?¡± Before Jesse could answer, Sanders poked Jesse in the side with his elbow. Jesse shot a quick look over at Sanders, and to his surprise, the man looked like he had an irritated look, indicating that he didn¡¯t want Jesse to share their discussion. Jesse nodded at Sanders, let it pass, then said to Sydney, ¡°Oh, not much, just trying to solve all the world¡¯s problems.¡± He turned to look at Sanders, who appeared to have a forced smile. ¡°Well, that¡¯s certainly a noble cause,¡± Sydney said; ¡°But I think maybe we should start with this country¡¯s problems first.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve already given up on that. I think it¡¯s a lost cause, Sydney,¡± Jesse said with a slight chuckle. ¡°I couldn¡¯t agree with you more,¡± Sydney answered. ¡°Well, you two, I better get going and pick up that wise-cracking partner of mine. We have to meet up with the Tigers pretty soon. Take care, you two.¡± Jesse got out of the Jeep and gave Sydney a little wink. As he passed her, he leaned in and whispered, ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, princess.¡± He climbed into his Jeep and was soon heading down the road. A lot of thoughts were spinning in his head, but the biggest two were: who in the hell killed Jensen? And why did Sanders immediately hide the manila envelope when he saw Sydney and Jeffery? Chapter 13 Chapter 13 Five minutes later, Jesse tried to stop in front of the barracks where he was to pick up Shawn, and he slammed into the back end of an armored personal carrier instead. The Jeep¡¯s brakes had failed. ¡°Damn, I¡¯m glad I only have two more days with this piece of shit,¡± Jesse said as he backed up and then started to search for the can of brake fluid in the cargo hold. He had tried to get a replacement Jeep or have it fixed, but he just got a runaround from the ARVN personnel in the motor pool. The front end was only slightly damaged, but he had a hard time opening the hood. He finally succeeded and emptied the remainder of the can into the brake reservoir, then slammed the hood shut. He found Shawn, and the two made their way to the airfield, where they were to meet up with the Tigers. Shawn didn¡¯t say a word about the Jeep¡¯s front end, at least for a few minutes anyway. ¡°What happened to the Jeep?¡± ¡°What do you mean¡­what happened to the Jeep? Shawn pointed to the front end and said, ¡°The whole fuckin front end is caved in¡­that¡¯s what.¡± Jesse calmly said, ¡°Oh, that¡­ a M113 backed into me.¡± Shawn laughed, ¡°Yeah, right¡­an armored personnel carrier backed into you. By the way¡­did you check the radiator?¡± ¡°Radiator?¡± ¡°Yeah, as in, is it leaking fluid?¡± ¡°Yeah, I did that.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°And what?¡± ¡°Was it leaking?¡± ¡°No, not that I could tell.¡± ¡°Then why is that steam coming out from under the hood, and your temp gauge is reading ¡°I¡¯m fucking hot¡­please add some water, you fucking moron.¡± ¡°Just a coincidence, I guess?¡± Jesse looked at him as if he was perplexed. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re probably right. It must be just a fucking coincidence!¡± Because of the noise and traffic, Jesse decided to say something to Shawn about his conversation with Sanders when they got to the airfield. With a full brake fluid reservoir, the Jeep had no problem stopping the rest of the drive. They reached the airfield without incident, parked in a grassy field, and waited for the Tigers Team to arrive. ¡°I ran into Sanders just before I stopped to pick you up, and he told me something that¡¯s been bugging me ever since.¡± Shawn got out and went to open the Jeep¡¯s hood. ¡°So what the hell did he have to say?¡± ¡°Do you remember that spook that was killed about six weeks ago?¡± ¡°You mean that geeky little spook they found dead behind a cat house at two in the morning?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the guy.¡± ¡°What was that guy¡¯s name? I think he was at Phuoc Long when we were there.¡± ¡°Yes, he was. His name was Jensen, Peter Jensen.¡± ¡°Ok, what about him?¡± ¡°I spotted Sanders sitting in his Jeep outside the CIA field headquarters. I pulled up behind him and slipped into the passenger¡¯s seat. He was looking at a letter, and he seemed to be upset. He didn¡¯t even notice me until I touched him on his shoulder. When he finally did, he quickly folded the letter and put it in his pocket. When I asked him if anything was wrong, he told me that he found a travel envelope that was hidden under his desk drawer. He said the handwritten letter was stapled to the outside front cover. He said that Jensen had written the letter and that it pointed to his killer. And it wasn¡¯t the NVA spy the CIA investigators reportedly claimed to have killed him. He also said that he was involved in something that got him killed. Sanders thinks that Jensen was about to rat the person out; however, he didn¡¯t get the chance. Apparently, the killer decided that Jensen wouldn¡¯t keep his mouth shut and decided to take him out before he changed his mind. Apparently, the killer was right because Jensen wrote that letter, and he didn¡¯t have a chance to finish it before he was killed.¡± ¡°You know, I never did believe that bullshit story the investigators came up with. Correct me if I¡¯m wrong, but as I remember it, they were only here for a few days before they came up with that lame story. I personally think they were covering for someone. Jeff told me that the lead investigator had his nose so far up Sydney¡¯s behind that the only thing that sticking out of her nice little ass of hers were his shoes.¡± Jesse chuckled and said, ¡°And just how do you know that she has a nice little ass?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have firsthand knowledge like some lucky bastard I know, but I do have a pretty vivid imagination.¡± Jesse was laughing now, ¡°You know you are one sick puppy, Shawn.¡± ¡°Yea, my shrink told me that¡­so I fired his ass,¡± Shawn said with a mock frown while Jesse simply smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t know who it was, but someone came up with the brilliant idea that he was killed by an NVA infiltrator who was working for the spooks as a double agent. Just because the dude disappeared right after Jensen was murdered doesn¡¯t prove that he was the killer. The same dumb shit also speculated that Jensen discovered that he was a spy¡­ the spy found out that Jensen was about to expose him, killed him, then dumped his body behind the brothel. End of story. Only the dude who was supposedly the spy was found dead two clicks north of Xuan Loc with a bullet in the back of his head just two weeks after he allegedly killed Jensen. And from the state of his decomposed body, they determined that he¡¯d been killed around the same time as Jensen.¡± Jesse nodded and said, "I never gave it that much thought until now." Shawn finally got the hood open and was almost burned by the hot steam coming off the radiator. Stolen story; please report. "So, who do you think killed Jensen?" Shawn asked. "I have no clue¡­and Sanders wouldn''t even give me a hint. But he also said something that confused me." "And what was that?" "Sanders said that the letter was more of a confession than anything else." "Confession? Confession to what? The guy was an absolute nerd. And by all accounts, he kept to himself. "Sanders hinted that the killer offered him something in return for his silence? Perhaps his conscience got the better of him, and he wrote the letter as an explanation and a confession?" Jesse said with a raised voice as a chopper flew by in the distance. "Okay, I guess that could happen." "We''ll just have to wait and see when we return to Saigon." "Why then?" "Because Sanders told me he would turn the letter over to Tom Polgar when he returned to Saigon. Oh, there''s one more thing. I''m quite sure that Jensen encrypted the letter, and I think the encrypted copy was in the travel envelope." "And what makes you think that?" "Because I saw random letters and numbers over all the words in the letter, and there was a page inside the envelope that contained just letters and random numbers separated by commas." "Well, that doesn''t make any sense. If the letter was a confession, why not just hand it over to Polgar and be done with it. Why go through all the trouble of encrypting it?" "Because Sanders told me that the letter wasn''t intended for anyone in the government." Shawn looked around from the front of the Jeep. "Well, who the hell was it intended for then?" "I have no idea. Sydney showed up before he could tell me. At first, it crossed my mind that he wrote the letter as a confession and explanation for his actions to his wife, girlfriend, or perhaps even his parents. But the more I thought about it, the more unlikely it sounded because, frankly, who the hell sends encrypted letters home?" Shawn poked his head from around the Jeep''s hood again. "Fucking little geeky spook bastards, that''s who." Jesse nodded his head and said, "Good point!" "You know, maybe the guy had a geeky little spook girlfriend that he went to spook school with, wherever that is. And the two of them wrote encrypted love letters to each other." "That''s a possibility." "You know, another thing that''s been troubling me is when Jeffery and Sydney pulled up, Sanders''s demeanor seemed to change instantly." "Just what do you mean by that?" Shawn asked. Oh¡­I forgot to mention that when Sydney got out of her Jeep and started walking our way, Sanders placed the envelope in the cargo hold. He obviously didn''t want me to share our conversation with her because he poked me with his elbow when Sydney approached us and asked what we were discussing." Shawn took the towel from around his neck and removed the radiator cap. Steam poured out of the radiator, and he stepped back out of the way of the super-heated water vapor. "So what do you gather by that smart guy?" Shawn asked as he returned to the cargo area and grabbed a water can. "I have no idea, and that''s been bugging me." Shawn was curious about Jesse''s conversation with Sanders but wasn''t overly interested. He was more concerned with the Jeep at the moment. "I don''t think your little accident damaged the radiator. You were low on water. Have you checked it lately?" When Jesse didn''t answer, he just let it pass. He was more concerned with what Sanders had told him than anything else. Then something dawned on him. ¡°Hey, I just remembered something. There was some scuttlebutt about Jensen¡¯s room being trashed the same night that he was killed. Do you think Jensen had something on whoever killed him, and this person was looking for it?¡± Shawn asked as he walked back to the front of the Jeep and motioned for Jesse to start it up. When Jesse came out of his trance, he started the engine, and Shawn filled the radiator slowly, being very careful not to get burned by the steam still pouring out from the hot radiator. When Shawn was finished, he gave Jesse the kill sign and put the can back into the cargo hold. ¡°You know you might have something there, Shawn, because the only things the investigators could tell were missing from his room¡­ were his camera, film, and all of his books. And from what I¡¯ve heard, he always had rolls and rolls of film and a shitload of books.¡± ¡°I remember talking with Jensen when we were at Phuoc Long. He had this really expensive Nikon camera with some big buck lenses. The dude loved to take pictures. Maybe Jensen had taken some pictures of something he wasn¡¯t supposed to see and was killed for it?¡± ¡°Shawn, you¡¯re just a regular fucking Dick Tracy.¡± ¡°I do have my moments.¡± Shawn returned to the Jeep''s front again and closed the hood. It didn''t fit very well. He climbed back into the passenger''s seat and looked at Jesse. "You know what really strikes me as odd?" Shawn asked. "And what would that be, Dick?" "From what I''ve heard, Jensen was such a geek that all he would do was work, write reports and play with his damn camera. He didn''t drink, smoke, or chase pussy. In fact, I don''t think he could find a pussy in a whorehouse. Yet they found him drunk behind a skin joint with his head nearly cut off and his eyes stabbed. You know, it sounds more like a mafia hit to me." "Unlike you," Jesse said. "Unlike me, what?" Jesse just shook his head and said, "Never mind." Jesse got out, stretched his legs, and walked to the front of the Jeep. "You know you didn''t shut the hood properly." Shawn snorted and said, "Yeah, very funny." Jesse got back into the driver¡¯s seat and was about to say something when a group of Hueys flew over, drowning out any possible conversation. Finally, when the choppers passed, he said, ¡°What was the name of Jeff¡¯s buddy? You know that other spook he always hung around with?¡± ¡°You mean Seth?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the dude. I was having a beer with him one night, and he told me the investigators interviewed all the girls at the brothel, and none of them remembered seeing Jensen there that night. Same thing with the bars; no one remembers seeing him. So, what do you suppose he was doing out in the middle of the night? ¡°Beats me; maybe he was trying to get himself killed.¡± ¡°Damn, you¡¯re good, Shawn¡­maybe you should become a fucking detective someday.¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. My feet aren¡¯t flat enough.¡± After the brief moment of humor subsided, Jesse said, ¡°I only talked with Jensen a few times when we were in Phuoc Long, and you¡¯re right, he wasn¡¯t exactly mister personality.¡± ¡°Where was that dude from? He sure had a funny way of talking,¡± Shawn asked. Jesse let out a short laugh, ¡°Some people would say the same thing about you!¡± ¡°Me¡­my English is perfect.¡± ¡°Keep telling yourself that you fucking hillbilly. It¡¯s funny that you would ask where he was from. That¡¯s about the only thing that Bennett and I got out of him. Just before a meeting, Bennett and I were talking outside the FH tent when Jensen approached us and asked Bennett a question. After that, we had some time to kill, so Bennett asked Jensen about his camera. I recall that Jensen handed it to him, and Bennett started to laugh after he read the name tag because it also had his address on it. He said that his second wife was from the same small town.¡± ¡°And where was that?¡± ¡°After they started talking, I didn¡¯t pay too much attention, but I do recall that it was a small farm town just south of Minneapolis. I remember Jensen saying that he loved the solitude of the farm and hated the City, too many people.¡± ¡°Where is Minneapolis? Is that in Minnesota?¡± ¡°It was the last time I checked.¡± ¡°Do you think the dude was gay? I saw him with Jeffrey quite a few times.¡± Jesse looked at him sideways and just shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s because they worked together, you idiot. Just because they worked together doesn¡¯t mean that¡­..you know what I mean.¡± ¡°Maybe Jeffery and Jensen had a lovers spat, and Jensen got the short end of the stick. No pun intended. And that¡¯s why Sanders claimed up when Jeffery and Sydney approached his Jeep.¡± Jesse just shook his head again. ¡°Anything¡¯s possible, but I doubt it. Jensen just doesn¡¯t seem like the type, and I don¡¯t think Jeffrey would hurt a fly¡­although you never know.¡± ¡°Maybe, but if I had to guess, I¡¯d say that the man was still a virgin.¡± Shawn got up, dug around in the cargo area, and found a hammer. He climbed into the passenger¡¯s seat again and handed the hammer to Jesse. ¡°What the hell is that for?¡± Shawn pointed to the hood and said, ¡°I think you need to do some bodywork on the front end.¡± ¡°You know, Dick, on second thought. You should have been a comedian. Your fucking hilarious.¡± Chapter 14 Chapter 14 Li Tang was lying prone just below the crest of the small hill eleven hundred yards away from his target. It was well within the range of his Dragunov SVD-63 Soviet-made sniper rifle, and Li had often made shots at that distance. After reading the wind and distance, he checked his book and adjusted for a thirty-degree slope angle. Li had finished his troop and defense assessment and was now looking to inflict some pain on the enemy. Twilight was approaching, and it would be dark very soon. The south monsoon season would start in a few weeks, but the sky was crystal clear in the pre-sunset hour. A light fog was beginning to rise on the hills around Xuan Loc from a brief passing shower earlier in the day. Like Casper and his friends, long whiffs of vapor materialize for the jungle canopy as menacing apparitions. Li was running out of time. He had no spotter; an AVRN recon unit had wiped out his entire scouting team the previous night in an ambush. Li had fallen back to relieve himself when the firefight started, only to return and find that all his men were dead. Li was a professional soldier who had seen a lot of death, but upon seeing the lifeless body of his best friend Wong Fung, Li became enraged with hate that he had not experienced before in his short twenty-four years of life. He knew he should gather the intel and return to his lines. But not tonight; he wanted to kill someone. After nearly thirty years of fighting, the war was all but over. They had first fought the French and now the Americans. Xuan Loc was the last defense before Saigon. After it fell, nothing would stop them from reaching their goal: the taking of Saigon and the utter destruction of the South Vietnamese Army. ***** The PSO-1 scope moved back and forth, looking for military officers or other high-value targets. Time was slipping away. Li had passed on several ARVN soldiers but was looking for officers. Then he found one looking over a map on the hood of a Jeep. He scanned left, then right, and was about to place the crosshairs on the officer when he saw movement on the outside edge of his scope. Another Jeep had pulled up, and two people casually stepped out and moved to join the officer. Li couldn¡¯t believe his luck. They were U.S. soldiers. But what he didn¡¯t know was they were MAC-V-SOG CIA observers. The ARVN officer, standing on the right side front fender facing Li, moved to the front grill when the two walked up. A tall man wearing an M1 helmet, camouflage pants, and jacket came up to the right side of the ARVN officer with his right face to Li. Next to him stood a smaller soldier dressed the same way, but instead of a helmet, he wore a boonie hat that partially hid his face. After only a few seconds, the smaller man moved to the right fender facing Li where the AVRN officer had previously been standing. Something about this soldier didn¡¯t register right away. When it finally did, he snorted unconsciously and placed the crosshairs on the center of the woman¡¯s forehead. ***** Li started to squeeze the trigger and then hesitated. He had never killed a woman before, although that didn¡¯t necessarily bother him. He decided to take out the taller man because he appeared to be in command and was now standing erect in front of the Jeep¡¯s grill. He placed the crosshairs on the side of the big man¡¯s head and held his breath. He waited for a full second before he squeezed the trigger ever so lightly just as the man turned. A millisecond after the slide that held the firing pin at bay released, the rifle kicked and sent the 181-grain full metal jacket bullet on its long but very quick journey to its intended target. It only took one point two six seconds to travel the eleven hundred yards, and Li was sure that he had missed when he saw the man move, but he had only turned sideways, turning his back toward Li. The bullet struck Dave Sanders in the back and exited his chest, then continued on to strike Captain Long in the shoulder, shattering his humerus. The rifle report took a little under three seconds to catch up, and Sanders and Long were both on the ground when the report finally arrived. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Li quickly reacquired his target and observed the outcome. He watched the woman grab the ARVN officer by the shirt collar and start to pull him around the side of the Jeep that provided cover. Li held his breath and squeezed the trigger again, but the woman proved too quick. As she pulled the officer to safety, her head just cleared the front of the Jeep when the bullet flew by and struck the earth a short distance away. Li felt no emotions about killing the U.S. Advisor, soldier or whoever he was. ¡°That was for Wong Fung,¡± he said as he gathered his gear to head north. Seconds later, Li spotted a helicopter approaching his position. ***** At Eighteen Hundred Hours, Jesse and Shawn ducked their heads and held onto their boonie hats as they approached the Huey UH-1D troop transport that was powered up and ready for takeoff. The chopper was equipped with 20mm Cannons, two 2.75 inch seven tube rocket launchers, and twin 7.62mm Mini Guns. They squinted their eyes to protect them from the powerful prop wash blowing dirt and debris into the air and made their way to the chopper¡¯s side door. When they climbed in, they were met by Captain Hung and his three-man tiger team. They took their seats and gave Hung the thumbs-up sign. Within seconds, they were airborne and heading north. Jesse just hoped the Huey was better maintained than the Jeep he was driving. As they passed over a small hill just north of the city, Captain Hung, who was sitting on the left side door, spotted a reflection three-quarters of the way up the hill. Mentally marking the spot, he spoke into this headset and directed the pilot to circle back. He then looked at Shawn and Jesse and pointed at his eyes with two fingers, then pointed to the ground and made a looping motion. The pilot banked the bird and slowly made a pass around the hill. Hung moved to the gun door and motioned for the door gunner to move to the other side of the Huey. Then Hung grabbed the M60 and waited for the pilot to reach the spot. Just before they lifted off the pad, Hung had been given intel that some advanced NVA troops might be coming into the area. He knew the hill they were now circling was not secured by ARVN troops and that someone was glassing their bird as it passed to the side. Hung¡¯s keen eyes spotted movement as they approached the location, and he shouted into his mic for the pilot to hover. As the chopper slowed to a crawl, Hung put the barrel of the M60 into play and let loose with the machine gun. He blanketed the area for just over thirty seconds, sending three hundred 7.62mm NATO rounds into the hill while two of the Tigers fired grenades from their thumpers. After the firing stopped, Hung instructed the pilot to pass over the spot slowly. Everyone on board scanned the ground as they slowly flew over the target area. Whoever was up there was nowhere in sight or blown to bits. Everyone looked at Hung, who clicked his mic and told the pilot to continue to the drop site. Chapter 15 Chapter 15 Li knew he had made a mistake when he used his binoculars to look at the chopper as it passed. As he followed the aircraft''s flight, he knew immediately that his lens might have caught the sun low in the western sky. When he saw the chopper turn, he knew he had been spotted and had to scramble for cover. He spotted a large fallen tree about thirty yards down the slope and quickly proceeded for it. He just made it safely under the tree when the chopper returned. Within seconds, the ground seemed to come alive as the M60 tore up the spot he had just vacated, and he could feel the vibration of the grenades as they detonated just up the hill. Like a tornado destroying everything in its path, the deadly killer was heading his way. Li turned away as dirt and debris flew into his face and eyes. He could hear the buzz of the bullets just inches away, and he just hoped that the fallen tree would protect him. He could feel the slugs devastating the tree as he prayed to Akshobhya to protect him from his enemies and for his ignorance and stupidity. But the blue Buddha failed to protect him. As the last few shots were fired, a round dug a furrow across his right kneecap that had been exposed. Li screamed out in excruciating pain and anger at the god that failed to protect him. ***** From the hill, they had a very short trip north. Traveling just over six clicks, they arrived at the drop site. It was by a small clearing next to a stream one click east of QL20, one of the main roads leading into Xuan Loc. The Huey did a sweep around the landing drop before going in, but everyone failed to see the NVA troops that had taken cover. Shawn was sitting on the right outside bay door, and Jesse sat across from him. As they were descending and only 30 feet from touchdown, Shawn saw the twin smoke blast signatures of the two Soviet-made RPG-7 grenade launchers fired just seconds apart. ¡°Incoming! Incoming! Abort, Abort,¡± Shawn yelled. The pilot, also looking for danger, saw what Shawn had seen and tried to pull up. The first grenade looked like it would come straight inside the cabin door but started to descend just 20 feet from the chopper. It passed under the skids and exploded with a deafening roar as it hit the ground just past and below them. They were not so lucky with the second. It found its mark as the tail section dipped down when the Huey tried to climb. The shell missed the rocket launchers, positioned just above the skids, and struck midway on the tail section. The blast shook the bird to its core and was immediately followed by NVA small arms fire, hitting the troop cabin and killing two of Hung¡¯s men and wounding the third. Shawn and Jesse started to return fire as the crippled bird started yawing out of control from the tail rotor that was barely able to maintain side thrust. ¡°Hang on, we¡¯re going down,¡± the pilot yelled in Vietnamese. The tail rotor drive shaft was severely damaged, and the oil pressure was dropping quickly. The pilot had no choice but to try and land the stricken aircraft. Smoke started to fill the cabin as the pilot attempted to head south and put some distance between them and the NVA patrol. Several more RPGs barely missed the aircraft as machine guns and small arms fire continued to devastate the Huey. The soldiers inside the doomed bird were choking on the thick smoke engulfing the cockpit and cargo area. Then, the chopper caught fire. They would all die unless the pilot got the bird down fast. Hung yelled at the pilot, ¡°Put it down now,¡± as he grabbed the fire extinguisher and started to fight the fire. With no clearing in sight, the pilot hoped they wouldn¡¯t all die from the crash into the forest canopy and subsequent fall to terra firma. The Huey came down hard. It crashed into the treetops as the main rotors began tearing up the tops of the trees before they finally disintegrated. The heavy craft hung there for a few seconds before gravity eventually pulled it downward toward solid ground. The final few tree branches that held it precariously finally gave way, and the chopper took a nosedive and shot down fast. Branches whipped by the side doors as the men could only watch and wait for the chopper to eventually kiss the ground. With only a few feet before the chopper plowed into the earth, Jesse grabbed Shawn by the arm and pulled him out the side door. They both hit the ground hard and were almost crushed by the Huey as it hit and started to roll toward them. The impact killed the co-pilot instantly as a mass of metal crushed him. The pilot was unconscious, with both of his legs pinned in and broken, but he was alive. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Shawn hit and rolled on a relatively soft spot, while Jesse was less fortunate. He landed on a mound that didn¡¯t allow him to plant his feet squarely. The tail section of the Huey just missed them both as it broke away from the main body and flipped sideways, with the tail rotor coming just inches away from Jesse¡¯s head and Shawn¡¯s thigh as it crashed into the ground between them. Shawn wasted no time getting to his feet, but Jesse was in pain. He was bleeding from a small gash in the side of his head, and his right ankle and wrist hurt like hell. Luckily, nothing was broken. Dazed and covered with soot from the fire, Jesse sat up and looked at the smoldering wreckage that was lying slightly on its side. As he wiped the dirt from his face, he realized that he was bleeding. Shawn staggered over to Jesse and sat down next to him. He took the bush towel from around his neck, soaked it with water from his canteen, and cleaned Jesse¡¯s head wound. ¡°Well, at least we¡¯re alive¡­anything broken?¡± Shawn asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°Good, stay here and clear your head while I see if anyone else made it.¡± ¡°No, help me up; we have to get the hell out of here before the bad guys climb up our ass,¡± Jesse said as he checked the time on his watch. ¡°Are you sure that you¡¯re ok?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine, just help me up.¡± Shawn put his arm around Jesse and helped him to his feet. Hung was still alive but was beaten up and slightly burned. He checked on his men first and then the pilots and the radio. Then he helped the only other survivor from the main cabin out of the smoldering wreck and climbed out himself. Hung leaned against the crashed fuselage and saw two men approaching through the light smoke. Not knowing if Shawn and Jesse were alive, he drew his sidearm and prepared to fire. When he recognized his two friends, he holstered his gun. "Anyone else?'' Shawn said to Hung when they were only a few feet away. "The pilot''s alive and unconscious. It looks like he''s pinned in. I don''t think we''ll be able to pull him out." Hung paused, then said, "Everyone else is dead except Dang, who took a round in his calf. It looks like it cut right through the fibula. I put a tourniquet on it, but we''ll need to patch him up and brace the leg before we leave. I''m not leaving him behind." Jesse wasn''t surprised by Hung''s knowledge of the human anatomy; sadly, he had seen firsthand what war and the ingenuity of man to design better means of killing another man could do to the human body. "No problem, Captain¡­ I''m sorry for the loss of your men. They were all fine soldiers," Jesse said in a low somber tone. As much as Hung appreciated Jesse''s kind words, he had no time to grieve. Hung put his head down and nodded slowly, "Thank you, Jesse. But right now, we have a pressing issue. I think we only put a few hundred meters between us and the NVA before we went down. We don''t have much time before we''re engaged, and I don''t want to join my fallen friends just yet." Hung said with some urgency in his voice. ¡°The radio?¡± Jesse asked. Hung shook his head, ¡°radio¡¯s shot. First, we need to see if we can save the pilot. If we can¡¯t get him out, we¡¯ll have to set a charge on the bird with a trip wire. I don¡¯t want the bastards cutting him to pieces. Jesse, you work on that while I make a splint for Dang. Shawn, I want you to gather up some weapons. Grab two thumpers, one sixty, two M-16s, and as much ammo as you think we can carry.¡± Without a word, everyone moved to carry out their assigned tasks. When Jesse and Shawn entered the fuselage, they were quickly saddened by the sight of the men they knew well. Jesse said a quick prayer for the men, then turned his attention to the pilot while Shawn searched for weapons. The pilot was conscious now and in a lot of pain. It didn¡¯t take them long for Jesse to see that they wouldn¡¯t free him without cutting off his legs. They were crushed, and the sheet metal of the fuselage completely locked him in. He grabbed the medical kit and injected the pilot with morphine. While Jesse worked on the pilot, Shawn disengaged the M60 from its harness, grabbed ammo boxes, and placed them in a pile. Hung finished making a splint for Tung and looked into the cabin. He eyed Jesse, who just shook his head. ¡°Jesse, I¡¯ll need your help with the claymores. Is the pilot conscious?¡± Jesse nodded. ¡°All right, let¡¯s get to work.¡± The next few minutes were spent placing the claymores underneath the rocket launchers. When they were finished, Hung ran the wires into the cockpit. ¡°I want all of you to gather all the weapons and as much ammo as you can carry and head south. I¡¯ll be right behind you. I have one more thing to do,¡± Hung said. Without a reply, all three men obeyed Hung¡¯s orders and proceeded to head south. Just before they left, Jesse looked into the cockpit and observed Hung talking to the pilot. He watched silently as he handed the doomed man a pistol and the claymore detonator switch. Jesse turned to leave, knowing his fate. He looked at his watch. Eleven minutes had passed from the time they went down. It was now time to leave. Chapter 16 Chapter 16 Five minutes after they left the crash site, gunfire erupted behind them, and they instantly stopped and turned around. They paused for just a moment and then moved out again. Two minutes later, they heard a massive explosion. The pilot had set off the claymores. The Huey went up in a fireball that also took out four NVA soldiers who had gotten too close. After the blast, Jesse immediately rechecked his watch. They didn¡¯t have much time before they were overrun by the enemy. Captain Hung was on point, and he turned to look at Jesse and the other men behind him. ¡°That was close. They¡¯ll do a perimeter check, and it won¡¯t take long to find our trail. And after that, they¡¯ll move quickly. There¡¯s not much more than thirty minutes before the sun is down, and I¡¯m sure we will be engaged before that.¡± They all nodded in agreement and picked up the pace. The men made good time despite the terrain being anything but smooth. Ten minutes later, they came upon a partially dry feeder stream and cautiously moved down the steep incline to the bottom. Jesse took the lead this time, and Shawn, who was the least injured, helped Dang down the slope. Climbing the opposite side of the wash proved more difficult than going down. Dang was exhausted from the climb that was ten feet higher than the opposite bank. When they all reached the top, they stopped to rest. They had traveled just over a klick from the downed chopper, yet it seemed that they had traveled twice that far. It had taken thirty minutes to travel that distance despite the thick underbrush, uneven terrain, and the added disadvantage of an injured man. Time was running out, and they knew it. Hung was right about one thing: they didn¡¯t have to wait long. Jesse and Hung worked on Dang¡¯s splint again while Shawn kept a sharp eye on the opposite bank forty yards away. Dang¡¯s calf had swollen to almost twice its size, yet he didn¡¯t complain. ***** Long shadows were beginning to form in the dense jungle when the first soldier appeared without a sound. He was quickly followed by another, then another. If they moved down the incline, they would be exposed in the open wash, and they were very aware of that fact. Finally, after looking over the entire opposite bank, the three soldiers started down the incline. When they were almost at the bottom, Shawn aimed his thumper and fired. The grenade was a direct hit, and the blast instantly killed two NVA soldiers and severely wounded the third. Two more enemy soldiers had just started down the incline when the grenade went off. They returned fire almost immediately, but not knowing the location of the shooter, they simply sprayed the opposite ridge with rifle fire. Shawn reloaded the thumper and fired again, taking out the two on the steep incline. Now, the entire opposite side of the wash came alive with heavy return fire from AK 47-assault rifles, machine guns, and mortar rounds. All four men took cover behind the ridge as the vegetation around them disintegrated over their heads. Trees were stripped bare of leaves, and mortar rounds fell all around them. Luckily, none came close enough to do any damage. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Jesse grabbed the M60 and slithered into a hole close to the bank''s edge. He placed the barrel over the edge and looked for muzzle blasts on the opposite bank. He found a tight-knit group and opened fire. While Jesse opened up with the machine gun, Hung and Shawn fired grenades from their thumpers, and Tang crawled next to Jesse and opened up with an M16. With Hung and his men holding the higher ground, the battle turned when the thumpers and the M60 started to take their toll on the enemy below. After a brief ten-minute battle, the guns became quiet as the enemy fell back into almost complete darkness. Hung regrouped with his man to assess the damages. Finding everyone intact, he said. ¡°They¡¯ll try and outflank us now; we need to keep moving just to stay ahead of them. How are we doing for ammo?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll have to leave the 60. It¡¯s almost out of ammo,¡± Jesse said. Shawn looked at the grenade situation and said, ¡°We¡¯ve got about ten grenades left and about 500 rounds for the M16s. Another firefight like that, and we¡¯ll be down to pistols and knives. From the return fire, I think we just ran into a squad, not anything larger. We probably took out at least half of them.¡± ¡°I agree. We¡¯ll need to find a good spot to rest before it¡¯s completely dark. I don¡¯t want to be overrun. How many rounds for the 60?¡± Hung asked. ¡°About thirty,¡± Jesse answered. ¡°Ok, disable it, and let¡¯s move out.¡± Hung checked his map and plotted out the fastest route to Xuan Loc. Moving as quickly as possible over the rugged terrain, they made better time with the lightened load. They had covered almost another klick without further enemy engagement before they found a natural funnel between two small hills, and they stopped to rest. Hung found a spot up against a cliff and heavy boulders for cover. ¡°We will rest here for ten minutes,¡± Dang said softly. After they settled in, Jesse pulled out his flask and passed it around. Hung and Dang politely turned down his offer, but Shawn grinned as he put his back against a hard rock and accepted the flask from Jesse. ¡°Thanks, man; I could really use a drink right now.¡± ¡°Amen to that,¡± Jesse said with a sigh. Shawn took a long drink and handed the flask back to Jesse, who took a short pull. All the men were quiet for a while, and then Hung started to speak quietly in his native language with Dang. Jesse and Shawn said nothing for the longest time until Shawn spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about what you said about Sanders and that letter you saw in his hand.¡± When Shawn didn¡¯t continue, Jesse pushed the issue. ¡°Okay, so what the hell are you thinking?¡± Wondering why Shawn was even thinking about that, given their current circumstances. ¡°You said that his demeanor seemed to change when he saw Jeffery and Sydney and that he hid the envelope in the cargo hold.¡± ¡°Okay, so what¡¯s your point?¡± ¡°Well, I think you were right about Jeffery. I don¡¯t think he would hurt a fly, but that just leaves Sydney. I hate to say this, but do you think she had anything to do with Jensen¡¯s death?¡± Jesse said nothing for a moment, then handed the flask to Shawn. ¡°I hate to admit it¡­but that thought did cross my mind.¡± Chapter 17 Chapter 17 The stars filled the sky as darkness rapidly filled the dense jungle. Jesse looked upon the broad band of the Milky Way and thought of the contrast between something so serene and beautiful and the ugliness of war all around him. Little did he know that it was about to get uglier. They came just as they were getting ready to leave their position. Shawn was the first to see them coming through his night vision goggles. Giving off a green hue, they looked more like apparitions of deadly green ghosts rather than mere man who would give no quarter if they came upon their enemy. He counted twenty NVA soldiers moving slowly up the trail with no end in sight. Knowing they would not have enough ammo for a sustained firefight, Shawn continued to count until he could see no more coming, then he slipped behind the large bolder and told the other man the bad news. ¡°We got company boys. I counted at least thirty NVAs and probably a few more coming up the rear flank. I think the stragglers for the Squad we ambushed got some reinforcements. They are definitely looking for us.¡± Hung took the NVG from Shawn and looked for himself. He returned them and said, ¡°If it was just the remnants of the Squad we encountered, we could fight right here, but we¡¯re now outmanned and outgunned. We should be okay in our position, but once they pass, we¡¯ll have to change routes or get caught in a pinch.¡± Shawn watched as the main body passed without incident. However, he grew very concerned as two NVA soldiers at the end of the column worked their way up the hill. They were coming straight at them. They came within 20 yards of their position and then stopped. One lit a cigarette, and they spoke and laughed momentarily before continuing up the hill again. Shawn ducked down behind a bolder and told Hung what he wanted him to do. After he agreed, he signaled Jesse and Tang to take cover. Shawn and Hung pulled out their Rothco combat knives and waited. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The first soldier with the cigarette passed by Shawn only five feet away. Shawn was pleased that he wasn¡¯t a disciplined soldier. He seemed more content with smoking his cigarette than looking for the men from the downed chopper. The second man was much more observant. He stopped as he came even with Shawn. The man sensed something was wrong but didn¡¯t get the chance to tell his partner. Shawn sprang from the ground and drove the six-inch blade into the man¡¯s throat. The second soldier stopped and was about to turn when Hung moved like a ghost and grabbed his mouth from behind. With a quick thrust, he stuck his knife deep into the man¡¯s back, piercing his heart. The cigarette fell from his hand as Hung eased the dead man to the ground. All four men breathed a sigh of relief when the rest of the NVA soldiers were no longer in sight. Knowing their fellow soldiers would be missed very soon, they cut some brush and covered their bodies. They finished the task quickly and quietly moved out. ***** Hung was the master of the night patrol. He had a sixth sense of finding the best trail and could move effortlessly through the jungle where other men would be totally lost and confused. He said he could smell and feel the enemy, and Jesse and Shawn didn''t dispute it. The decision was made to take a more difficult route back to Xuan Loc. They wanted to avoid any further contact with the enemy. Unfortunately, they were wrong. After traveling another klick without incident, they stopped to rest. The terrain was much more challenging than Hung had expected, and despite the morphine, Dang was struggling to keep up. Hung looked at his map and guessed the distance to Xuan Loc was no more than three klicks. At the rate they were traveling, it would take two more hours to reach the city''s outskirts. Chapter 19 Chapter 19 Jesse fell to the ground, and Shawn was at his side in an instant. He saw the blood gushing from his chest, and he ripped open his shirt. Hung and Dang were approaching fast now. Shawn called out for the medic kit while he put pressure on the knife wound. Hung quickly opened the kit and found the supplies that he needed. Air was being sucked into the gash as Shawn kept pressure on the open wound. Shawn couldn''t believe all the blood Jesse had already lost. Meanwhile, Hung opened the gauze patch and dressed the wound. ¡°Don¡¯t you fuckin die on me Jesse?¡± ¡°I fucked up, Shawn,¡± Jesse said in a barely audible whisper as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He was on the edge and was slipping quickly. ¡°Hang in there, man, just stay with me,¡± Shawn yelled. Sadly, there was no reply. Jesse had gone to another dimension where there was no pain, sorrow, love, or hate. He had slipped into a void between this world and the next. ***** Hung checked and found a very weak pulse. Jesse¡¯s breathing was very shallow and irregular. His right lung had collapsed, and he was barely holding onto life. Hung looked at Shawn with great concern. ¡°Shawn, if we don¡¯t get Jesse to a hospital very soon, he¡¯ll surely die. I can move much faster by myself, and if I don¡¯t run into any more enemy patrols, I think I¡¯ll make it in time to get a chopper back here and possibly save him.¡± Shawn simply nodded his head; he was too upset to speak. Hung picked up the dagger and showed it to Shawn. ¡°It looks like an ancient Kung Fu dagger. They always use them in pairs. Jesse would be dead if he had used a long knife.¡± Shawn looked at the unconscious man lying on the ground and then at the dagger. It appeared to be just over two inches long with a symmetrically pointed blade with scarlet silk ribbons tied to rings and on the end of the handle. Shawn wiped the blood from the dagger and secured it by its silk ribbons to his shirt pocket. Hung knelt next to Jesse and whispered something in his ear, and then he was gone. After Hung left, Shawn sat with Jesse, and for only the second time in his life, he said a prayer. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. He looked overhead at the countless stars and said softly, ¡°God, I know that you and I are not on the best of terms, but if you¡¯re listening, please don¡¯t let this good man die.¡± He placed his hand on Jesse¡¯s forehead and whispered, ¡°If there is a God, I hope he heard me, bro.¡± As he looked at his fallen friend and then at the unconscious man a few feet away, his anger started to rise. ***** Shawn got up and went over to the Li. The man didn¡¯t look Vietnamese; he suspected the man was Chinese. His head was shaved, and he had a full round face, a hard square jaw, and a few long hairs emanating from his chin. His nose was broad, and his lips were full. The men appeared to have a very powerful body. Shawn took out his knife and put it to the man¡¯s throat. The sharp blade drew a trickle of blood. ¡°Dang, come over here and look at this man.¡± Dang, who had been vigilantly looking for any further threats, limped over and looked at their captive. ¡°He¡¯s not Vietnamese. Is he Chinese?¡± Shawn asked. Dang nodded, ¡°Yes, Chinese.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I thought.¡± Dang¡¯s English wasn¡¯t as good as Hung¡¯s, and he asked, ¡°You want me kill him?¡± Shawn just stared at the man for a few moments before he answered. ¡°No, we¡¯ll take him back with us so they can interrogate him. But if Jesse dies, I¡¯ll kill him myself.¡± Shawn looked the man over for any concealed weapons and found the matching dagger and nothing else. He turned him face down, pulled his arms together, and tied them. When he was finished with his arms, Shawn then tied his legs together and cut a strip of cloth from the man¡¯s dirty and bloodied pant leg to use as a gag. As he cut the fabric from his pants, he noticed the wound to his knee. Shawn ran the strip of cloth through his mouth and tied it behind his head. He didn¡¯t want the man to give away their position if an enemy patrol happened to fall upon them. When he had finished binding the man, Li¡¯s eyes started to flutter open. ¡°You see wound on leg?¡± Dang asked, pointing to his knee. ¡°Yeah, looks like he just got nicked. An inch the other way, and he would have lost his leg.¡± Shawn looked at the prisoner and noticed that he was finally awake. Shawn got in his face and asked, ¡°Do you understand English dickhead?¡± Li didn¡¯t respond. Shawn tapped the side of his knee and said, ¡°That looks like it hurts like hell.¡± Li just winched in pain and remained silent. Well, let¡¯s see if it does.¡± Shawn slammed his fist into his kneecap. Li¡¯s whole body stiffened at the incredible surge of pain that seemed to spread through his entire body. He bit down on the rag that had been shoved through his mouth and cursed the man in Mandarin Chinese through his gag. Shawn got right in his face again and looked him in the eyes. ¡°What was that? I didn¡¯t understand you? You might want to repeat that again.¡± Then Shawn leaned back and hit him again. This time Li grit his teeth and took the pain. ¡°I guess he has nothing more to say. That¡¯s a pity because I was just starting to enjoy our conversation.¡± Chapter 20 Chapter 20 Unencumbered by his injured friends, Hung moved at astonishing speed. He moved over and around thick vegetation, small hills, and feeder streambeds and was at the outskirts of Xuan Loc in just over an hour. When he approached the perimeter of the ARVN camp, he used his flashlight to signal his approach. Within twenty minutes, a flight surgeon was on board a Sikorsky CH-3 Jolly Green Giant, heading for a location that Captain Hung would show them. ***** Shawn heard the thump of the chopper coming in the distance. He had stayed by Jesse¡¯s side and talked softly to him even though he knew Jesse couldn¡¯t hear him. Shawn¡¯s hopes that Jesse would survive increased dramatically as the noise got closer. He was still alive, but his breathing was still shallow and erratic. Shawn kept a vigil over his friend while Dang used the night vision goggles to look for any possible danger. Their greatest fear was that the enemy patrol would find them before they got picked up. With two injured men, it would be Custer¡¯s last stand reenacted with the same result. The chopper was close now. Shawn popped a smoke canister and hoped they would see it in the night sky. Shawn had instructed Hung to look for smoke and a flashlight signal instead of a flare. He would only use the flare gun if the chopper were way off course. He didn¡¯t want the enemy to have a beacon to home in on. ***** Hung knew the approximate location, but it wouldn¡¯t be easy to find the men at night. Signaling the pilot to decrease his forward speed, Hung then returned to the main cabin, where a ten-man tiger team and the flight surgeon waited to pick up the survivors. Hung pointed at his eyes, then pointed down, instructing his men to keep a sharp eye for any signal. ***** Shawn watched and listened for the chopper to arrive. From the sound, he could tell they were a little off course and heading away from him on his right. His expectations started to fade along with the sound of the chopper. Then he heard the pitch change, and his hopes were renewed when it began to return working in a grid search pattern. As the sound of the chopper grew nearer, Shawn popped another smoke canister and hoped they would see it this time. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ***** The co-pilot spotted the smoke in the waxing moon just two days shy of being full. He called it out to the pilot, and he acknowledged it. As they approached the spot, the pilot spotted the light signal. The flight surgeon went down first on the shoulder harness. Shawn guided him down, and they both made their way over to Jesse. The doctor opened his medical bag and checked his vital signs and then his wound while Shawn paced back and forth as the doctor worked on him. The stretcher was finally lowered, and Shawn and the doctor placed Jesse carefully inside. When Jesse was halfway up, Shawn turned to the doctor and yelled above the din of the chopper. ¡°Is he going to make it doc?¡± ¡°His vital signs aren¡¯t good, and he¡¯s lost a lot of blood. It all depends on how much damage was done inside. I¡¯m sorry, soldier, but I can¡¯t give you more than that right now.¡± The doc now turned his attention to Dang, and after the stretcher was lowered again, Dang was placed inside. He made the short, windy ride up to the chopper¡¯s side door, where the stretcher was pulled inside. Shawn and the doc then went over to the prisoner and dragged him by his arms to the loading spot. Shawn noticed that the man seemed very subdued. The flight surgeon went up next, and Shawn turned to look at his prisoner. He got right in his face again and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can understand me, but you¡¯re one fucking lucky bastard. If my friend had died, I would have slit your throat.¡± A few minutes later, when everyone was on board, the pilot put the hammer down on the twin 1,500 hp General Electric engines, and the airship¡¯s nose dipped forward, and the massive rotors dug into the night air and propelled the chopper forward. The Sikorsky landed without incident, and the wounded men were quickly transferred to the hospital for medical care. Before Li was unloaded, his gag was removed, and he looked at Shawn with both of his grandfather¡¯s daggers tied to his shirt and said in Vietnamese, ¡°I¡¯m going to get my daggers back from you.¡± Shawn asked Hung what the prisoner had said, and after he translated the message, Shawn responded. ¡°Well, good for you. I like a man with spunk. But I have to warn you, that ain¡¯t going to be an easy task, asshole.¡± Then, in the blink of an eye, he punched Li in the kneecap again. Li howled out in pain, and when he bent forward to grab his leg, Shawn drove his right fist into his face. When Li woke up, he was in a cell. Chapter 21 Chapter 21 When the chopper hit the ground, two of the Tigers carried Jesse to a truck that would take him to the Xuan Loc hospital. The doc was about to climb into the truck with him when he was approached by Colonel Bennett. ¡°Doctor, can I have a word with you, please?¡± The doctor spoke perfect English and said, ¡°Make it quick, Colonel. I have a patient that needs urgent care.¡± ¡°What are his odds?¡± The doc climbed into the truck with his patient, and the driver shut the tailgate. He looked at Bennett through the open canvas flap and said, ¡°Frankly, Colonel, I¡¯m surprised he¡¯s still alive. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have to try and save this man¡¯s life.¡± Seconds later, the truck sped off. ***** After the truck left, Bennett approached Captain Hung. ¡°Captain, I am very sorry for the loss of your men. I also want to thank you personally for bringing my men back.¡± ¡°Thank you, Colonel. The men I lost tonight were all brave, and I am deeply saddened by their deaths. I fought beside all of them for a very long time. I only hope that Sargent Taylor pulls through this.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a fine soldier, Captain; please see to your wounded man and get some medical attention yourself.¡± With that, Hung turned and walked away. Colonel Bennett now approached Shawn. ¡°Corporal Harris, I¡¯d like to have a word with you.¡± ¡°Yes, Sir,¡± Shawn said as he saluted his commander. ¡°Give me a quick rundown of what happened tonight.¡± Shawn filled Colonel Bennett in on everything that happened that night. From the time they boarded the Huey to their return on the Sikorsky. ¡°Did anyone record the location on the hill where Captain Hung spotted someone glassing the Huey and the location where you captured the prisoner?¡± ¡°Yes, sir, I believe Captain Hung marked them on his map.¡± ¡°Can you estimate the distance from that hill to our base camp?¡± ¡°Approximately one klick, sir.¡± ¡°Thank you, Corporal. That will be all solider.¡± As Shawn made his way to the hospital, he wondered why Bennett asked about the hill and its distance from their base camp and the spot where Jesse was ambushed. ***** After the sniper had killed Sanders and wounded Captain Long, Sydney traveled with the men to the hospital in the same converted ambulance where Jesse would later be placed. She knew that Sanders was probably dead, yet she still held out hope. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. However, when a doctor brought her Sanders personal effects just minutes later, he didn¡¯t even have to tell her the news. Exhausted, Sydney got a ride from an ARVN corporal back to the governor¡¯s mansion, where she removed her blood-stained clothes, took a shower, and let the hot water wash away the blood from her face, arms, and hair. Ten minutes later, she put on a clean robe, poured herself a glass of brandy, and then sat down at the kitchen table. Sydney finished drinking half the glass and then dumped the bag containing Sanders effects onto the floor. She intended to throw away his soiled clothes and pack the rest of his belongings. Sydney put on a pair of rubber gloves that she had found under the kitchen sink and placed his wallet, ring, and watch into a small box. She was about to place his ruined shirt back into the bag when she decided to check his pockets. That¡¯s when she found it. A blood-soaked folded-up piece of paper. The bullet had exited through it and partially destroyed it. She casually tossed it into the trash, thinking it was nothing. She took another sip of brandy and was about to move on when her intuition told her to look at it. She pulled it out of the trash and carefully unfolded it. Parts of it seemed to fall apart in her hands as she did. She pushed everything aside on the table and reconstructed the letter before her. After reading just a few short lines, she became livid. She reached for her drink and was surprised to see that her hand shaking. It didn¡¯t take her long to recognize what she was looking at. It wasn¡¯t a letter. It was a draft of an encrypted letter, for above each word was a letter and number. Sydney continued reading the blood-stained document, and her anger rose with every subsequent line. When she had finally finished reading, she slammed down the rest of her drink and contemplated the ramifications of this new discovery. Somewhere out there was the encrypted letter that was not destroyed, and she wondered where it was. ¡°You fucking little bastard,¡± she said with a bit of anger in her voice, ¡°you apparently were one step ahead of me.¡± Sydney thought she had handled the problem, but Jensen had an ace up his sleeve. How could she be so stupid? Now, she knew she had seriously underestimated him. She knew the letter could destroy her. She would probably even do time in a Federal Penitentiary. Then Sydney had another thought. Who was Jensen writing to? From its wording, it certainly wasn¡¯t anyone in the CIA. Sydney¡¯s hand shook slightly as she got up and poured herself another drink. She walked to the kitchen table and sat back down. She reread the letter, but this time, she stopped to contemplate every word. The letter didn¡¯t appear to be finished or addressed to anyone. It seemed to be written to someone to explain his actions, and the portion of the letter that wasn¡¯t destroyed never mentioned her by name. But from the portion that wasn¡¯t, Sanders would have known immediately who the letter referred to. Thinking back, now she knew why Sanders had been so cold to her the entire day. He must have found the letter in his room that morning or possibly the night before. She was convinced that he was going to turn the letter over to Tom Polgar as soon as they returned to Saigon. Luckily for her, he never got the chance. Sydney finally started to relax a bit, and her analytical skills kicked in. Jensen appeared to be trying to make someone understand his actions. Did he have a friend or girlfriend at the CIA who could decipher coded messages? She doubted it, but there was still that possibility. The man was still a virgin when she met him, although that didn¡¯t mean that he didn¡¯t have a girlfriend. The more she read the letter, the more she felt that the letter was meant for a family member or a very close friend. But who writes encrypted letters to family or friends? The more she thought about it, the more she felt that he simply had a friendship and corresponded with someone he met at ¡°The Farm.¡± As she stared at the page, she concluded that Sanders must have found the letter, and after reading it, he placed it in his pocket. Maybe Jensen didn¡¯t have time to actually make an encrypted copy, but she doubted it. Sydney knew he would have transferred the letters and numbers to a second page as he wrote the letter. She had watched him work. He was methodical and never left anything unfinished unless he was interrupted. Sydney relaxed just a bit with this realization, although she still couldn¡¯t be sure that the encrypted letter was still out there somewhere. If it was, she had no reason to believe that anyone would ever find it before the city was destroyed or even know what it was, but she decided to look for it just the same. She didn¡¯t want to leave anything to chance. After she finished her second drink, she was much more composed. The brandy had done its job, and she felt lucky to have the letter in her hands and not in Polgar¡¯s. She got up from the table, grabbed the bottle, and sat on her sofa. She decided she needed to celebrate her narrow escape, even if it was all by herself. Chapter 22 Chapter 22 Shawn stayed at the hospital waiting for news on Jesse for what seemed like an eternity. While he was waiting, he learned that Sanders had been killed. He was physically and emotionally spent when the doctor finally came out. The man looked extremely tired. He couldn¡¯t get a read from his face and expected the worst. Shawn waited for the doctor to speak first because he was too terrified to ask. ¡°Corporal Harris, I don¡¯t want you to get your hopes up. Sargent Taylor is in very grave condition, but he is a very strong young man. He¡¯s stable right now, but time is of the essence. The knife just nicked his heart, although it didn¡¯t penetrate it. Another few centimeters, and we wouldn¡¯t be talking right now. He needs to be transported to Saigon ASAP, where they have a much better facility.¡± ¡°Thank you for all your effort, Doc. I really appreciate it. By the way, how is Dang doing?¡± ¡°He¡¯s doing fine; he¡¯s a tough man.¡± ¡°Can I see Jesse?¡± ¡°He¡¯s sedated, but you can see him for just a minute.¡± ¡°Thanks again, Doc.¡± A nurse took Shawn in to see Jesse and sternly told him to only stay a minute. They were getting ready to move him. He went to his bedside and gripped his hand. Although Jesse couldn¡¯t hear him, Shawn said softly, ¡°This worthless war is over for you, buddy. It didn¡¯t end the way we planned. Thanks for being such a good friend. I hope we¡¯ll get a chance to have that drink at your home and watch the sailboats go by someday.¡± Shawn watched as they carefully loaded Jesse and several other wounded men on the Jolly Green Giant for their short trip to Saigon. When the chopper was out of sight, he jumped into his Jeep and drove to Madam Chi¡¯s, where he intended to get drunk and enjoy the company of several young ladies. But neither of those two things happened. He spent the night alone, and there wasn¡¯t enough alcohol in the world that could take his mind off of what had happened that night. ***** The following morning, Bennett went over Hung¡¯s report. Except for different wording, it pretty much matched the same events that Shawn had given him the night before. Bennett knew that a Tiger recon team had ambushed and killed an entire NVA patrol the previous day only three clicks from that hill and that a Chinese advisor had been among the dead. He looked at the Dragunov sniper rifle next to his desk and theorized that the prisoner they were now holding was probably the lone survivor of that same recon unit. Bennett had a strong suspicion that he had killed Sanders. He also theorized that the man was either wounded in the ambush the night before or was hit by the M60 after Hung had spotted him on that hill. Regardless, his injury slowed him down as he tried to return to his lines. Unfortunately, that¡¯s when Jesse ran across the man. Bennett set the report down and decided that he needed to have a talk with the prisoner and find out if his theories were correct. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ***** Li was thrown into a holding cell and was given nothing to eat or drink. He couldn¡¯t sleep due to the severe burning pain in his knee that was aggravated further by the U.S. soldier. His entire leg had swollen, and the area around his knee was turning black and blue with crimson lines. If he tried to stand, the pain sent shock waves through his entire body. He cursed the asshole that had repeatedly struck his knee. He asked his captors in their own language for something for his pain, but they just laughed at him. Li asked for food and water and got the same response. It was mid-morning when Li was dragged out of his cell by two ARVN soldiers and roughly placed on a wooden chair. A Green Beret Colonel and one other man sat across the table from him. The Colonel offered him a cigarette, and he eagerly accepted it. ¡°Let¡¯s start with your name and rank,¡± the Colonel asked through his interpreter. ¡°Can I have something for my pain?¡± Li said in Vietnamese. The interpreter just laughed and shook his head no. "Can I have something to eat or drink?" "If you cooperate, you will be given food and water," was the interrupter''s terse reply. Bennett asked the interpreter what the prisoner had said, and he informed him. Bennett told the man to provide some water and aspirin for the prisoner but nothing else. Bennett was of the school that you could get more information from a prisoner by goodwill rather than by force, although that was not the case with Li. After he received the two items, he refused to give them anything. Not even his name. The interpreter left the room and returned with two ARVN guards, who stood Li up and started to beat him. When Bennett saw what was happening, he immediately ordered them to stop. A half-hour later, and after receiving no information from the prisoner, Bennett left the room, and Li was thrown back into his cell. The guards disregarded Bennett''s orders to give the prisoner food and medical attention. ***** Sydney wasn¡¯t much of a drinker, yet she easily finished the bottle of brandy before she crashed on her bed. Now, in the late morning hours, and after a light breakfast and a lot of coffee she finally got dressed and stepped out the door with a slight hangover. Sydney knew nothing of the events that transpired the night before nor that Jesse had been transported to Saigon in critical condition. She got into her Jeep and hit the starter button. To her absolute amazement, the Jeep roared to life. She drove through the crowded streets until she came to the field headquarters of the ARVN 18th Infantry Division, where she was to meet General Dao and his staff. She parked her Jeep and was about to enter the tent when she was approached by Colonel Bennett. He informed her that Captain Hung¡¯s chopper had been shot down and that he had lost several of his men. But when she heard that Jesse had been wounded and that he was now in Saigon, nothing else he said seemed to register until he told her about the prisoner that had inflicted the near-fatal wound on Jesse. After her meeting ended, Sydney got on the phone and found out where the prisoner was being held. Then she made another call. She made sure that the prisoner would be transferred to another location, away from prying eyes. Chapter 23 Chapter 23 Li was transferred to a new cell, and at 3 PM, two ARVN soldiers dragged him out and dropped him onto a blood-stained wooden chair, and tied him down. A few minutes later, a woman approached and stood before him. She was tall and very attractive, and Li immediately recognized her as the woman he had his sights on. She was dressed in camouflage army fatigues, and Li noted the lack of a nametag or insignias. To his surprise, the woman spoke to him in Mandarin Chinese. "I''m not here to interrogate you. I already know this city''s fate and the war''s outcome. The North and its allies can have this shit hole of a country for all I care. I know that you are Chinese and that you are a NVA advisor, but frankly, I don''t really give a shit. I was just informed about the circumstances of your capture and the suspicions that you were the sniper who shot and killed a CIA advisor last night. I was also informed that you haven''t been very cooperative. Since the North Vietnamese Army doesn''t honor the Geneva Convention on the treatment of prisoners of war, I will not honor it also. You know, we learned a little trick from you on how to torture prisoners of war... and from what I''ve been told¡­ it''s not very pleasant. But I can tell you one thing for certain: you''re about to find out." ***** Shawn woke up after getting a full eight hours of sleep, which wasn''t unusual for him. He got dressed and looked for his cigarettes, but they were nowhere to be found. "Shit, those little bitches stole my cigarettes again." He dug through the ashtray until he found a half-smoked cigarette butt. He lit it and let the soothing smoke fill his lungs. The night before, he had given Madame Chi the news about Jesse and told her that Bennett had given him orders to head back to Saigon the following day. He could tell that Chi was deeply saddened by this news, and to his surprise, she hugged him tightly for the longest time. When they separated, he could see that she was crying. Shawn entered the parlor and noticed that Madame Chi looked as stunning as ever. She was dressed in a beautiful red Ao Dai embroidered with white orchards. She offered him breakfast, which he greedily accepted. He had three eggs with toast and washed it down with a lot of black coffee. Shawn was just finishing his meal when Chi sat down next to him. She wanted to shed some light on Sydney Perotti. Many of her working girls had heard rumors about the interrogation techniques used by her, and she wanted to tell Shawn about them. ¡°From what I¡¯ve heard, she¡¯s really quite the Dragon Lady. I wanted to tell Jesse, but I didn¡¯t think it was my business to spread rumors about someone he cared for. Besides, he might have thought that I was being spiteful. Now I wish I would have said something.¡± ¡°What rumors did they hear?¡± ¡°She likes to inflict a lot of pain on prisoners, and some of them disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. I¡¯ve also heard that she¡¯s involved in the opium trade.¡± Shawn nodded, ¡°I¡¯m certainly no saint, and it¡¯s no secret that the CIA has used interrogation tactics that, let¡¯s just say, aren¡¯t very nice. I¡¯m not making excuses for her, but unfortunately, war can bring out the worst in people, Madame Chi. And as for the drug trafficking, it¡¯s been rumored for years that the CIA has used the drug trade to finance some of its illicit operations.¡± Chi looked down and slowly nodded her head. ¡°Yes, war brings out a lot of evil things in people.¡± Shawn got up to leave a short time later, and Chi followed him to the door. ¡°Your girls are all very beautiful, some more inside than out. But you are both Madame Chi, and I will miss all of you very much. Please give your girls all my best.¡± ¡°Thank you; I will convey your message to them. You are a good man, Mr. Shawn. I will miss you also.¡± With that, she took his hand and walked him to the street, where they hugged, and he kissed her on her cheek. Shawn turned and didn¡¯t look back. He jumped into his Jeep and drove away with many things going through his mind. As Shawn drove off, he pondered the information Chi had given him. He would have passed it off as bullshit pillow talk by drunken NVA soldiers had not Jesse shared with him the conversation that he had with Sanders. Now that Sanders was dead, he wondered what had happened to the letter that was in his pocket. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ***** Sydney ordered the ARVN guards to strip Li naked. They tied his legs together and his arms behind his back. There was a rope hanging from the rafters, and they dragged him over to where it was dangling and tied his wrists to it. When they were finished, they forced him to sit on a stool. Sydney watched the entire procedure, then she dragged a chair over in front of him and sat down. ¡°I¡¯m sure you know what¡¯s going to happen to you next. After all¡­we learned it from you. You don¡¯t have to tell me your name, rank, or any of that other bullshit. I¡¯m just going to have these men inflict some pain on you. It¡¯s as simple as that.¡± Li responded by spitting in her face. Sydney wiped it off with the back of her hand and came off her chair instantly. She struck Li with a closed fist on the side of his face and then turned and nodded at the guards. The two men pulled on the loose end of the rope and lifted Li off the stool. The strain on his shoulders was so intense that he couldn¡¯t breathe. He had never felt such excruciating pain in his entire life. The pain in his knee was nothing compared to what he was now forced to endure. Both arms were almost dislocated from their sockets. Just before he thought that both his arms were going to pop out of their sockets, he thankfully passed out. Li was lowered to the floor, hosed down with cold water and given smelling salts to revive him. Li cursed his tormentors and their families, after which an order was given by Sydney to hoist him up again. Li endured the same excruciating pain as before, but strangely, it wasn¡¯t as intense this time. Li woke as sounds drifted into his ears. He was lying on the damp floor with his arms still tied behind his back. Cold sweat had formed on his face. The pain was not as severe now, but his arms were numb, and his shoulder sockets were on fire. He opened his eyes partially, and a blurry figure stood over him. The two soldiers were ordered to hose him down and prop him on the short wooden stool again. The water was cold, yet it felt good. ¡°Have you been enjoying our hospitality so far?¡± Sydney asked him in English. Li found no need to answer her obvious sadistic rhetorical question even though he understood every word. ¡°I¡¯ll take your silence as a no.¡± Li snorted and answered her in English, ¡°Why don¡¯t you just kill me and get it over with you fucking bitch?¡± Sydney started to laugh, ¡°You are right about one thing. I am a fucking bitch, but no, no, no, I¡¯m not going to kill you. Under normal circumstances, I would honor your request...but last night, you hurt someone that I cared deeply for, and for that, I had to punish you. Now I want to tell you a little secret. You did me a big favor last night. The man you killed¡­ well, let¡¯s just say he had something that would have ended my career prematurely. That means because you did me a favor, I won¡¯t kill you, even though I should.¡± Li said nothing, but he pondered what kind of woman this was before him. Obviously, the bitch had issues. Sydney ordered the two guards to gag him again, tie his arms in front of him this time, and hoist him up. After his feet were off the floor, Sydney walked behind him, wearing leather gloves and a set of brass knuckles. She punched Li in the kidneys as hard as she could ounce, twice, and then a third time. She walked around to face him and did the same to his rib cage. She could see his body tense, and he made a groaning sound after each painful blow. When she finished, she looked into his eyes. His face was countered in pain, and tears were streaming down his face. At that moment, all Li wanted to do was die and get it over with. "Did you know that I''m an authority on Chinese history? No, of course, you don''t. Did you know that in the Shang Dynasty, the Shang kings castrated prisoners of war, and the castration included removal of the penis as well as the testicles?" Li¡¯s eyes grew large at the thought of this humiliation. Sydney walked over to a table that contained a small propane torch and other dubious objects. She lit the torch, grabbed a sharp knife by its handle, placed the blade under the flame, and watched until it turned cherry red. With the blade still glowing, she walked over to Li and ordered the guards to cut his leg restraints and hold his legs apart. ¡°Now, don¡¯t take this personally, but this is part of your punishment for hurting my friend. However, unlike the Shang kings, I¡¯m only going to remove your testicles. This might hurt a bit, but I did sterilize the blade for you. We wouldn¡¯t want you to get an infection, would we?¡± Li¡¯s eyes grew as large as dinner plates as he watched her approach. She looked at Li and smiled when she saw the terror in his eyes. With her gloved hand, she grabbed his right testicle and pulled it down hard, then sliced it off in one quick motion. Li became rigid and groaned through his gag. Then she placed the red-hot blade on the wound to cauterize it. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. After what seemed like an eternity to Li, she withdrew the knife. She then casually walked over to the table, placing the knife and gloves back down. She then turned to face Li again. ¡°Now, that wasn¡¯t so bad, was it? I¡¯ll return tomorrow to continue our conversation and remove the other one for you. You know, those things just make all that testosterone, and too much of that shit, to be honest with you, just makes some men really aggressive. You might not thank me now, but I¡¯m really doing you a favor. The only bad thing is¡­you won¡¯t be having any children. But you know¡­who really would want those noisy, messy things anyway? They are simply just a pain in the ass.¡± Sydney turned to the guards. ¡°Cut him down and throw him back in his cell. Oh, and give him his clothes and something to eat and drink for being such a good boy.¡± Sydney then blew Li a kiss and walked out the door. As she walked away, she had no way of knowing that she wouldn¡¯t be back to finish the job. Chapter 24 Chapter 24 April 8th 1975 Shawn stepped on the gas pedal, leaving Madam Chi¡¯s in the dust. He was heading for the ARVN Field Headquarters to find Colonel Bennett and get his marching orders. Fifteen minutes later, Shawn was rounding a corner when a supply truck cut in front of him. He hit the brakes, but the Jeep didn¡¯t stop. The brakes were none existent. With nowhere to go, he crashed into the side of the truck, destroying the front end of his Jeep and doing almost no damage to the supply truck that kept going as if it had swatted away a fly. Shawn sat silently as steam and fluids poured out from under the hood. The fleeing citizens of Xuan Loc passed by without giving him so much as a second glance. Luckily, he had just passed the ARVN motor pool. He got out, grabbed his gear, and started walking the short distance back to the motor pool. Shawn recognized an ARVN Captain and asked if he could get a lift to the field headquarters and the airfield. He purposely forgot to mention that he also needed to stop at his barracks to pick up his gear. The Captain looked at him and then pointed to a Jeep parked nearby. ¡°Take it; I¡¯ll have someone pick it up at the airfield later.¡± Shawn thanked him and made his way to the Jeep. He climbed in and tested the clutch and brakes. Finding no problems, Shawn started it up. Two minutes later, he drove past his mortally wounded Jeep that was still sitting in the middle of the road steaming. He had no intention of moving it. ***** Shawn pulled up to his bunkhouse, happy to be leaving this chapter in his life behind him. He had very few personal possessions that he wanted to take with him, and it took him only a short time to get everything together. As he was loading his gear, he lifted the back storage compartment lid and saw something that caught his eye. It could have been the Jeep''s maintenance records, but something told him it wasn''t. He pulled out the nine-by-twelve manila envelope with a red string tie. On the folding edge, he could see where the remnants of a page had been stapled twice. He opened the envelope and noticed that the staples had been pulled off the back yet remained attached to the front. He looked inside and then pulled out the contents. After examining the single page for only a few seconds, he said, "No fucking way!" ***** A few minutes later, Shawn pulled up to the ARVN field headquarters and jumped out. He was about to enter the makeshift structure when he spotted Jeffery and Seth Clawson shooting the breeze outside. Shawn approached the two men just as Seth was putting out his cigarette on the ground. ¡°You guys getting ready to head back to Saigon?¡± ¡°We¡¯re scheduled to leave at 1900 hours. We just have a few more things to take care of before leaving. I heard about Jesse. I¡¯m very sorry, Shawn. I know you guys were tight.¡± Jeffery answered. ¡°Thanks, Jeffery. Have you heard anything about his condition?¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°No, nothing new; I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Jeffery, if you have a minute¡­ I¡¯d like to talk to you in private.¡± Shawn wanted to talk with Jeffery alone because he didn¡¯t know who was involved in Jensen¡¯s death, but he also had to be cautious with him. Jeffery and Seth looked at each other, and Seth just shrugged and said, ¡°I gotta take a piss anyway. I¡¯ll catch up with you later.¡± After Seth was out of earshot, Jeffery said, ¡°So what¡¯s on your mind?¡± Shawn chose his words wisely. Depending on his reaction, he would know how to proceed. ¡°Jeffery, I know that you and Jensen were pretty good friends. Do you think the investigation into his death was a fair assessment of what happened the night he was killed?¡± Jeffery didn¡¯t blink, but he did stare hard at the man who asked the question. After a long moment, he finally answered. ¡°Absolutely not¡­that whole story was bullshit, and I wrote a letter to the CIA station chief explaining my dissatisfaction with it. Why, do you know what really happened to Jensen? Because if you do? I want to know.¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t, but I do agree with you that the investigation was bullshit.¡± Even though Shawn was pretty sure Jeffery wasn¡¯t involved, he still didn¡¯t want to share the information that Jesse had passed on to him about the letter. Not just yet. He wanted to do a little fishing first. ¡°Did Sanders or anyone else tell you about a letter he found in his room the day that he was killed?¡± Jeffery looked at Shawn with a quizzical look. ¡°What kind of letter?¡± ¡°A letter supposedly written by Jensen before he was killed.¡± ¡°No, no one mentioned anything about a letter to me. What are you getting at?¡± Do you know if he had a girlfriend or anyone else he wrote to back home?¡± ¡°What was it¡­ a love letter?¡± ¡°No, I didn¡¯t say that. What about the girlfriend?¡± Jeffery started to chuckle. ¡°No one that I was aware of¡­ Peter was pretty shy around women, and he never mentioned that he had a girlfriend. As far as I know, the only people that he wrote to were his parents. But then again, I wasn¡¯t exactly his mailman, so I can¡¯t say for sure.¡± ¡°Do you know who packed up Sanders belonging after he was killed?¡± Jeffery was surprised at the quick turn in questioning and began to wonder where this was going. ¡°Yes, I do.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°First, you want to tell me what this is all about?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get to that, but I want to know who got Sander¡¯s things together.¡± Jeffery sighed and said, ¡°Sydney did. I told her that I would do it, but she insisted.¡± ¡°Did she also pack up Peter¡¯s things to send home?¡± ¡°No, I did. I put all his belongings into his small footlocker and shipped it to his home.¡± ¡°Do you know anything about encryption?¡± Shawn changed the subject. Jeffery raised his eyebrows and lowered his head because the questions were getting stranger by the minute; however, he answered anyway. ¡°Of course I do. Now, what the hell is this all about, Shawn?¡± Shawn was about to speak when Colonel Bennett¡¯s aide, Major Nathan Wilcox, approached them and nodded at Jeffery before addressing Shawn. ¡°Corporal, Colonel Bennett is waiting for you. He just has a few minutes before he meets with General Dao and his staff.¡± ¡°Yes, sir, I¡¯ll just be a moment.¡± Wilcox looked at Shawn with a look of dissatisfaction and said, ¡°NOW, Corporal.¡± Shawn stared at Wilcox for a second, then said, ¡°YES, SIR,¡± with a bit of attitude in his voice. Before he left, he turned to Jeffrey and said, ¡°Wait for me for a few minutes. I found something that I want your opinion on.¡± Jeffery nodded and said, ¡°If I can, I will.¡± As Shawn looked back over his shoulder, he now wished that he had also added, ¡°Please keep our conversation just between the two of us,¡± but it was too late. Fifteen minutes later, Shawn emerged and looked for Jeffery, but he was nowhere in sight. Chapter 25 Chapter 25 The CIA field office in Xuan Loc was a shit-hole of a building that the U.S. Government had paid the owner three times its actual value. The house where Sanders bunked was directly across the street. It was a former cathouse, also purchased for far more than its true value. Just as a formality, Sydney searched through Sanders''s file cabinets and desk. Pretty much everything had been removed or burned. She exited the field house and looked at the mass of people in the street. From the very old to the very young, the street was filled with people, and all their worldly possessions were stacked beyond capacity in wooden carts or anything else that would carry their merged belongings. Small children tied to their parents on tethered lines, of course rope. Buses, trucks, scooters, three-wheeled tuk-tuks, and bicycles filled the street. Anything that would carry people and their possessions moved through the cramped streets, all trying to escape the onslaught about to reduce the city to ashes. She weaved her way across the street to the house where Sanders and Jensen had bunked and tried to enter through the front door. But, of course, it was locked, and she didn''t have a key. ***** Shawn couldn¡¯t find Jeffery, so he drove to his bunkhouse to gather up his gear. Bennett had given him and all other MACV-SOG units their orders to evacuate the city before the NVA attacked. As he drove through the crowded streets, he looked ahead and spotted Sydney walking across the street. She looked like she was on a mission and paid little attention to the chaos all around her. Curious, Shawn pulled his jeep over to the side and decided to observe her for a minute. He watched as she attempted to enter the front door of the CIA bunkhouse. After this failed, he watched as she slipped into the narrow gap between the bunkhouse and the next building, and then she disappeared. ***** Sydney went around the back of the building and found the back door locked. She tried to kick the door in, but it had been reinforced and held fast. She looked at the windows with their steel bars across them and then back at the door. Not deterred, she pulled out her 45 browning automatic from its holster, and with one shot, she blew out the lock. She looked at the old Vietnamese woman sitting outside on an old wooden chair, smoking a pipe. The woman didn¡¯t even flinch at the sound of the loud report. Sydney stared at her for a moment before kicking in the door. ***** Shawn finally grew tired of his sleuthing and started up his Jeep. He had only traveled a short distance when he heard the gunshot. It could have been a truck backfiring, but he knew the sound wasn¡¯t a backfire. It was a gunshot. Now, he was very concerned for Sydney¡¯s safety. He pulled his Jeep over to the side again, pulled the key out of the ignition, and quickly found a young man to guard his belongings with the promise to pay him 500 Dong when he returned. With the deal struck, Shawn made his way to the back of the building through the narrow gap he had seen Sydney take. At the back of the building, he found a rickety back staircase that led to the top floor and a single door on the lower level. It soon became apparent to him where Sydney had gone. The lower level door was partially open, and the lock had been blown out. The debris was still on the floor where the slug had torn out the lock. Shawn looked up and down the alley and only saw an old woman and a few stray cats scurrying about the deserted alley. He slowly pushed open the door with his foot and stepped into the long hallway. Inside, there were four doors. However, only one stood open. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Shawn slowly eased his head through the doorway and looked around. There was no one inside. From his vantage point, he could see into the living area through the next opened door. He stepped into the room and started to make his way quietly through the bedroom to get a better look into the next room. He only made it a few steps when a sound stopped him dead in his tracks. Someone was in the next room. It was a woman¡¯s voice cursing in English. ***** Sydney got up from the desk chair and was about to search the rest of the room when she stopped and froze. Even above the din outside, she heard the floor creak in the next room. She listened intently and, at the same time, pulled out her pistol, went into a crouch, and very quietly pulled back the hammer of her automatic. She wasn¡¯t alone. ***** Shawn inwardly cursed when the floorboard gave him away. He immediately stopped and backed out of the room as quickly as possible. He didn¡¯t want to have to explain why he was there. When he reached the outer door, he bumped it, and the unoiled hinge squeaked loudly after only moving a few inches. Shawn winced at the sound, then turned and ran down the alley and found a hiding place under an abandoned ox cart with a broken axle. From his vantage point, he could see the back door clearly, and he waited for Sydney to come out. Shawn didn¡¯t have to wait long. Moments after he ducked under the cart, Sydney peered out the door with a 45 automatic in her hand. He watched her look up and down the alley before she finally started to walk right at him. Shawn had no place to go. He felt like an idiot for hiding from her. Now, he wished that he had just identified himself after entering Sander¡¯s former room and explained that he was concerned for her safety after hearing the gunshot. That would have ended it. But now Shawn had no idea what he would tell her if she spotted him. Sydney was only a few yards away when an old woman came out of the building next to the one Sanders had occupied. When Sydney noticed her, she approached the old woman and said something in Vietnamese. The two women had a short conversation; however, Shawn had no clue what they were talking about. Finally, Sydney made another quick sweep of the alley, then turned and disappeared between the two buildings with her pistol still in her hand. Shawn hoped she wouldn¡¯t spot his Jeep and question his newly acquired unpaid attendant. ***** Shawn waited five minutes before he went back to Sanders''s room. He stood in the living quarters and looked around. The place was a mess. The desk had all its drawers pulled out and lying on the floor. Lamps, tables, chairs, and the small sofa were all turned over. He did not know if Sydney had done this or if it was in this condition when she arrived, but he suspected that she was looking for something. In any case, someone was clearly looking for something. As he walked back to his Jeep, a lot of things were going through his mind. He wondered what Sydney was doing there. She wasn''t there to pack up his belongings. Then it dawned on him. She was looking for the envelope that was now in his possession. She must have found the letter in Sanders''s pocket and knew that Jensen had made an encrypted copy. He had no way of knowing this, but the timing was suspect. When Shawn got back to the street, Sydney was nowhere to be seen, and he was relieved to see that the young man was still sitting in his Jeep. He climbed into the driver''s seat and gave him 1000 Dong for his trouble, knowing full well that the Dong would soon suffer the same fate as the Confederate Dollar at the end of the American Civil War. A half-hour later, Shawn finally returned to his bunkhouse and started packing his gear. Bennett had told him that Jesse was still alive and would be airlifted to Walter Reed the following day. The surgery to repair his heart had gone well. However, he was still in critical and battling a severe infection that still threatened his life. He had also gotten his orders, and he was returning to the U.S., where he had a choice to make. His enlistment would be up in thirty days, and Bennett asked him to consider his reenlistment options. Bennett wanted him to stay the course because he had plans for his special skills. But Shawn already knew what he would do; he wasn¡¯t going to re-enlist. He had something else planned that might just put him in jail for a very long time. That is if he got caught. After finishing his cigarette, he started up his Jeep. He was going home. Chapter 26 Chapter 26 Thirty minutes later, at 1700 hours, the big tandem rotor Piasecki H-21 Shawnee that would take him back to Saigon lifted off the airfield. From the air, Shawn looked down at the doomed city with the long line of refugees that crowded the road to Saigon, and his heart ached for its people. The war was over for him, but not for the people of Xuan Loc and Vietnam. A lot more people were going to die before it was over. The sky had turned dark, and thunder boomed through the hills just north of the city as Sydney pulled her Jeep onto the airfield. She spotted Jeffery and Seth sitting in a Jeep together and pulled alongside them. ¡°Hello, boys; it looks like the approaching storm is a harbinger of things to come.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­but this one won¡¯t kill you unless you¡¯re unlucky enough to get hit by lightning,¡± Seth said. ¡°By the way, where¡¯s the Shawnee?¡± ¡°It hasn¡¯t returned from Saigon yet. I guess we¡¯ll just have to wait,¡± Jeffery said. While waiting for the chopper to return, the three of them made idle chit-chat about the political aspects of the war and its eventual outcome when Seth spotted an ARVN captain he wanted to say goodbye to. He excused himself and was gone a few seconds later. With Seth gone, the conversation soon faded. It was mainly between Sydney and Seth, and Jeffery hadn¡¯t contributed much. His conversation with Shawn was still on his mind. Finally, after a long silence, Jeffery said, ¡°I ran into Corporal Harris a couple of hours ago, and he asked me some very strange questions about Peter Jensen.¡± Sydney had been looking out at the field, but at the mention of Jensen¡¯s name, her head quickly turned to look at Jeffery. She tried to remain calm, but every nerve in her body was inwardly shaken. ¡°Oh yeah; what kind of questions?¡± she asked. "Well, he asked me if Sanders mentioned anything about finding a letter in his room the same day that he was killed. I said that he didn''t. Then he asked me if I knew of any friend or girlfriend Peter was writing to. I told him I didn''t and said I only knew he wrote to his parents a lot. In fact, he gave me a letter to put in our outgoing box the night that he was killed." This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. There was no hiding the look on Sydney''s face, and Jeffery immediately picked up on it. Now, he regretted saying anything to her. Sydney''s voice seemed to change, and she asked, "Do you know who it was addressed to?" Jeffery shook his head and lied, "No, I just glanced at it and dropped it in the outgoing box." Alarm bells were going off in Sydney''s head. She sat up straight and asked, "Did he ask you anything else?" "Yes¡­ he asked me if I knew anything about encryption, and of course I said I did." Jeffery deliberately left out the part about who packed up Sanders''s belongings. "Anything else?" Jeffery shook his head and said, "No, because Major Wilcox came up to us and told Harris that Bennett wanted to see him. "And you never spoke with him again after that?" Jeffery''s mouth became dry, so he simply nodded his head. For the next few minutes, Sydney sat and inwardly fumed. Jeffery could tell she was upset despite her best attempt to hide it. Now, he wondered what the letter was all about and if Sydney could have had anything to do with Peter¡¯s death. Seth returned about the same time the Piasecki H-21 touched down. Eight people piled into the chopper, and a short time later. It was off the ground and heading for Saigon. Sydney sat in the back of the chopper alone with her thoughts. She wondered if somehow Shawn had gotten his hands on Jensen¡¯s encrypted letter, the same one the Sanders had. She doubted that. Otherwise, he would not have asked Jeffery all those questions, especially when he asked Jeffery if he knew anything about encryption. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that Shawn had the encryption letter or a copy of it. How he got his hands on it, she had no idea. And who the hell did Peter send a letter to on the night he was killed? Thinking back to the morning that Sanders was killed, she remembered that Sanders was talking with Jessie when she pulled up with Jeffery. Sanders must have found the letter the night before or early that morning. That may have been the reason Sanders hadn¡¯t picked him up that morning. Now she wondered if Sanders said anything to Shawn about the letter and, if so if he possibly shared at least some of its contents with him as the two were sitting in his Jeep. Jesse could have then shared this information with Shawn Harris. Was the ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, princess¡± all a ploy by Jessie? Now, as she looked out the small round window at the long column of refugees desperately trying to escape the city, she wondered what information Shawn had and what he planned to do with it. As they traveled to Saigon, she wondered if she would be arrested when she got off the chopper. In any event, she hated loose ends. Chapter 27 Chapter 27 The city of 30,000 people came under attack at 0540 hours on April 9th, 1975. The North Vietnamese 4th Army Corps began bombarding South Vietnamese positions around the town of Xuan Loc with over 20,000 rounds of artillery shells, with the Governor¡¯s Mansion being one of the first buildings to be hit. Madame Chi decided to take Jesse¡¯s advice and flee to Saigon. Unfortunately, she was too late. As she was packing some of her belongings, a 130mm artillery shell struck her building, killing her and many of her girls instantly. The ARVN ground forces were severely outnumbered by the North Vietnamese Army, which in 1975 had the world''s fifth-largest army. Advancing 5th, 6th, 7th, and 341st NVA Divisions, with artillery and T-54 tank support, attacked the much smaller ARVN force, confident of an easy victory. They were very mistaken. The ARVN 18th Division and 82nd Ranger Battalion fought bravely and held their ground against overwhelming odds that day. After 12 days and nights of ferocious combat, the defensive line at Xuan Loc still held firm. But with all the main roads under Communist control, the city was completely isolated and surrounded by the North Vietnamese. On April 19th, the ARVN General Staff ordered General Le Minh Dao, nicknamed "The Super Man," to evacuate the 18th Infantry Division and other support units from Xuan Loc in an effort to continue their resistance and defense of Saigon. The South Vietnamese soldiers destroyed three of General Dung''s PAVN divisions. However, sadly, it was just a matter of time. Outnumbered and outgunned, the South Vietnamese succumbed to the superior North Vietnamese Army, and on April 20th, the ARVN 18th Infantry Division was ordered to retreat. In a convoy of about 200 military vehicles, under the cover of heavy rain, the South Vietnamese soldiers and remaining civilians began pulling out of Xuan Loc. The following day, the town center was abandoned entirely, with the ARVN 1st Airborne Brigade being the last unit to hold the city. By the end of the day on April 21st, the Brigade was utterly wiped out, and the North Vietnamese controlled the entire city, with Captain Hung and his rangers being the last to die. They fought valiantly and died defending the country they loved. Now, the gateway to Saigon was fully opened. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ***** The advancing NVA showed no differentiation between the military and the civilian population as they continually attacked the stream of refugees for the next nine days. More than 20,000 civilians of Xuan Loc were killed as they retreated toward Saigon in what was to become known as the Convoy of Tears. Later, the NVA would state that the killing of civilians of Xuan Loc was very cruel even by their standards. With the fall of Xuan Loc, President Nguyen Van Thieu resigned and fled to Taiwan on April 25th. Before he left, he transferred authority to Vice-President Tran Van Huong, who led the doomed country for only four short days. By April 27th, the North Vietnamese had completely encircled Saigon and began to maneuver for their final assault. By the morning of April 30, the war was over. When the North Vietnamese tanks broke through the gates of the Presidential Palace in Saigon, the South Vietnamese surrendered, and the Vietnam War finally came to an end. Chapter 28 Part II Loose Ends, Vengeance & Justice Chapter 28 It was an unusually balmy May evening in Minnesota. A warm, southerly breeze had brought up warm, moist air from the gulf, but as the sun started to set, the temperature began to drop as fast as the retreating sun. In the twilight hour just before sunset, a rented 1975 slate blue Ford Granada pulled off the paved road and onto a gravel and dirt road a few miles west of the small farming community of Castle Rock, just 35 miles south of the metropolitan area of Minneapolis and St. Paul. On either side of the road, the driver could see newly planted black dirt fields with tender green shoots sticking out from the surface in long, straight rows. A short distance later, the midsized sedan stopped at a mailbox with ¡°The Jensen¡¯s¡± stenciled on its side in faded, bold type letters. The nearest farmhouse appeared to be a quarter of a mile down the road, or at least the driver assumed that it was a farmhouse, given that there was a yard light in a large grove of trees surrounded by fields. The driver of the sedan looked in all directions before pulling onto the single-lane dirt road that led to the Jensen¡¯s farmhouse, barn, and outbuildings. ***** Sydney landed in Saigon, but no one was there to arrest her. Feeling very much relieved, she searched for Shawn without success. She had to be one hundred percent sure that he didn¡¯t have the encrypted letter. If he did, she would decide how to deal with him, when and if that proved to be true. She could be very persuasive if she had to, especially with men. But not knowing made her very nervous. She had only met Shawn a few times when he was with Jesse, and she didn¡¯t like his looks. He was the exact opposite of Jesse, who was smooth and polished, while Shawn was extremely rough around the edges. She hated his cockiness, and she didn¡¯t like the way he looked at her. Needless to say, she didn¡¯t like him at all. She had a few loyal spies at Tom Polgar¡¯s office in case he showed up there, but after a few days, she was informed that he had shipped out. She was still nervous. If Shawn turned the copy over to Langley, and they were able to decipher it, she could be called in at any moment, and Jensen¡¯s case file would be re-opened. She didn¡¯t want that to happen. Sydney was positive that lead investigator Christopher Page would keep his mouth shut. She made sure of that. The man was creepy and veil, but gold was better than sex. However, she had her doubts about Billy Brown, the other CIA investigator. The man seemed to see right through her. She decided that she needed another layer of insurance. She had to make sure the letter was intended for his parents and not some little spook girlfriend she didn¡¯t know about. She had read the partially destroyed letter a dozen times and still had no clue as to who Jensen was writing to, but if Jeffery was right, she would have her answer very soon. It could have been anyone he knew, but whoever it was, that person would know how to decipher his code. The questions she was about to ask and the answers she received would dictate her course of action. ***** Sydney had looked into Zedekiah Jensen¡¯s past and come up empty. He had no military record she could find, but something Peter had said to her didn¡¯t confirm that. She couldn¡¯t recall his exact words, because she often paid little or no attention to him when they did have a conversation. But now, as she was about to interview the man¡¯s father, she wished she had. She tried repeatedly to remember what Peter had said about his father¡¯s past, and she always came up blank. Still, in the back of her mind, it connected to the path Peter had chosen in life. ***** Sydney pulled into the farmyard between the farmhouse and the newly painted classic red Midwestern barn and parked the car. Two sodium vapor lights lit up the entire farmyard, which proved to be a magnet for every species of flying insect in the area. The mid-sized sedan stopped under their bright lights, and Sydney watched as a tall, slender man wearing bib overalls stepped out of the barn door, closely followed by an old golden Labrador who walked with a bit of a limp. The lab slowly approached the car and waited for the door to open, his tail wagging back and forth in anticipation of meeting the car¡¯s occupants. Zed Jensen didn¡¯t recognize the car, so he followed the old lab, wondering who might be stopping by to visit. He didn¡¯t have a long wait. A tall woman, Zed guessed her to be in her early to mid-twenties, opened the driver¡¯s door and swung her long legs out onto the ground. Sydney gave the farmer a big smile as she closed the car door, showing off her pearly white teeth. Zed had never met the woman before, but something about her was very familiar, although Zed couldn¡¯t quite place it. The woman was blond and beautiful. She extended her hand and said, ¡°You must be Mr. Jensen; I¡¯m Linda Swanson. I work for the United States Government.¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. She held up her gold badge and flashed her credentials at the tall man, but she quickly placed it back into her purse before he could fully examine the document. Zed thought it odd that this woman was working so late, yet he was polite and asked. ¡°How can I help you, Miss Swanson?¡± ¡°You are the father of Peter Jensen? Is that correct?¡± Zed was about to answer when a short, slightly overweight, middle-aged woman emerged from the farmhouse door and walked onto the front porch holding a large spoon in her hand. ¡°I see we have a guest, Zed. Why don¡¯t you invite her into the house before the flies carry that pretty young lady away?¡± ¡°I was just about to do that before you interrupted me, Mary.¡± Zed Jensen turned back to Sydney and extended his hand. ¡°I¡¯m Zedekiah Jensen, and yes, Peter was our son. Why don¡¯t we step into the house? The flies are bad out here. After all, it is a farm. By the way, this can¡¯t be you¡¯re regular working hours? What branch of the Government did you say you were with?¡± As they approached the house, Sydney diverted his question as any good politician worth his salt would do. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about farms, but it looks like you have a very nice one. When I was a young girl, I always wanted to have a slumber party in a hayloft.¡± ¡°Well, miss, I know it sounds adventurous and a bit romantic, but frankly, I¡¯d prefer a nice comfortable soft bed any day over a smelly old barn. Not to mention the bats, cats, rats, mice, gnats, flies, chiggers, and all the other creepy crawly things that make it their happy home.¡± ¡°Wow, you really know how to spoil the image of a fun night.¡± ¡°Yeah, I thought that might do it,¡± Zed said with a slight chuckle. Zed led the way into the farmhouse kitchen, where Mary was preparing dinner. The smells emanating from the room were wonderful! Something was simmering on an old 1950s stove, and Mary had on a pair of oven mitts and was extracting a cookie sheet of what looked like biscuits from the oven. ¡°Ma, this pretty lady works for the Government. I think she¡¯s here to talk to us about Peter.¡± ¡°Oh, did you know our son?¡± Mary asked. ¡°No, I don¡¯t know him personally. I just have a few questions I¡¯d like to ask the two of you. It¡¯s just a formality.¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re just in time to join us for supper. We can talk and eat at the same time. I hope you¡¯re hungry because we have plenty to eat. It¡¯s just the two of us now, except when Nils is helping Zed with the chores. Then it¡¯s like feeding a thrashing crew. I swear that boy can eat more than two grown men,¡± Mary said with a chuckle. ¡°You¡¯re in luck, young lady. Mary makes the best beef stew in the state, and her biscuits will melt in your mouth. To tell the truth, I think Nils just likes to help me because Mary feeds him so well,¡± Zed said with a bit of pride. ¡°Well, actually, I haven¡¯t eaten all day, and everything smells absolutely wonderful. I would love to join you for supper.¡± ¡°Terrific; you couldn¡¯t have timed it more perfectly. The biscuits are the best when they are right out of the oven. The washroom is right around the corner; you can freshen up there, and I will set another plate,¡± Mary said. Sydney made her way to the bathroom and looked in the mirror as she washed her hands. She smiled at her reflection and then walked back to the kitchen. This was going to be easy! ***** Zed watched the woman walk into the bathroom, and he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he had seen her before. Then it finally dawned on him. Peter had sent them photos of some of the people he was stationed with, and she was one of them. Her short blond hair and blue eyes had thrown him off, but she was definitely the same woman. The simple fact was that her skin color and facial features didn¡¯t quite match the Scandinavian look she was trying to convey. He whispered to Mary, ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a minute.¡± ¡°Where are you going?¡± Mary said with a confused look on her face. ¡°I¡¯ll explain later.¡± And with that, he was out of the kitchen as fast as his long legs could carry him. Zed quickly found the photo he was looking for in the stack of letters that Peter had sent them. He looked at the beautiful dark-haired woman in the photo, and he instantly knew that it was the same woman that was now in his house. Zed didn¡¯t know what her game was, but he definitely knew that she was deliberately trying to deceive them. However, he had no idea for what reason and to what end. He didn¡¯t even know if she was using her real name. All it said on the back of the photo was one of the agents I work with. Zed returned to the kitchen and found Mary and the woman standing by the stove, making idle conversation. Mary looked at him with a puzzled look; however, she said nothing about his odd behavior. She had been married to him long enough to trust his instincts. ***** Zed was absolutely right. Mary¡¯s beef stew was excellent, and the biscuits did melt in her mouth. She praised Mary and thanked her for one of the best meals she ever had. Mary blushed and said it was nothing, just some things she threw together in a pot to satisfy her man after a hard day¡¯s work. Sydney turned down a piece of rhubarb pie that Mary had baked the day before, insisting that she couldn¡¯t eat another bite of anything even though she claimed to love rhubarb pie. After coffee was served, the conversation finally turned to the reason for her visit. Chapter 29 Chapter 29 ¡°Mr. and Mrs. Jensen, I¡¯m sorry I have to bring up hurtful memories. And, like I said, I didn¡¯t know your son personally. From what I¡¯ve been told, your son was a hardworking, dedicated man who loved his country and wanted to help the South Vietnamese government fight the communists. I¡¯m here today to ask you just a few questions, if you don¡¯t mind?¡± Mary looked at Zed, who hadn¡¯t taken his eyes off of the woman. Zed finally said, ¡°Let me first say that we are very proud of our son. He knew the dangers, yet he volunteered for the assignment in Vietnam nonetheless. He believed that what he was doing would help the South Vietnamese Government win the war. I don¡¯t know how we can help, but we¡¯ll be happy to answer any questions you have,¡± Zed answered firmly and without the slightest hint of trepidation. ¡°First of all, has anyone from the U.S. Government contacted you since your son¡¯s death?¡± ¡°We received a letter from William Colby that informed us of his death. The letter stated that Peter died at the hands of a North Vietnamese spy but didn¡¯t go into specifics. I have the letter if you would like to see it?¡± Mary answered her. ¡°No, that won¡¯t be necessary. Do you know of anyone other than yourselves that had correspondence with your son while he was in Vietnam, someone from college or¡­ maybe a girlfriend perhaps?¡± Mary looked at Zed, thinking the question was odd, but Zed still held his gaze on the woman. Sydney saw Mary¡¯s confused look and followed up quickly with, ¡°We¡¯re just following up on any correspondence your son had outside the CIA. This is just a routine procedure and bears no ill will toward your son.¡± Mary seemed to be satisfied with her explanation, but Zed¡¯s bearing seemed to change instantly. He quickly recovered and answered her question in a firm but polite tone. ¡°Let me assure you, Ma¡¯am, that our son was a man of integrity and wouldn¡¯t do anything that would jeopardize the security of our nation or that of the South Vietnamese government. But to answer your question, we don¡¯t know of anyone with whom Peter wrote to other than us. Peter was a very private person. And frankly, I don¡¯t see how any of this is relevant since the war is now over.¡± The interview was not going the way Sydney had planned. She sensed that Zed knew more that he was willing to share but thought better of pushing it. Mary just seemed to let Zed do all the talking and sat quietly. Sydney now eyed the man and could tell there was more to him than just a simple farmer. He picked up too quickly on why she was asking her questions, although he was wrong in his assumptions. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I have offended you in any way. I am just doing my job. I don¡¯t know the relevance of his correspondence with anyone outside the CIA. I¡¯ll leave that for others to decide. My job is to just interview all the people that your son might have had contact with,¡± Sydney said in a conciliatory tone. ¡°I understand that you¡¯re just doing your job, Miss Swanson and I¡¯m sorry for any misunderstanding we might have had,¡± Zed replied. Sydney smiled, ¡°Thank you for understanding, Mr. Jensen. I just have two more questions.¡± Zed simply nodded and waited. Sydney directed her question at Zed. However, she was watching Mary for a response. ¡°I¡¯m curious, Mr. Jensen, were you ever in the military or the CIA?¡± Zed didn¡¯t take his eyes off Sydney, ¡°CIA, heavens no, but I was in the army.¡± ¡°Can I ask you what your rank and duties were?¡± Zed laughed and said, ¡°I was just a PFC foot soldier in the Koran War. The winters were just as cold as Minnesota, and the fighting was extremely hard.¡± ¡°I see. Do you happen to know anything about encryption?¡± Zed didn¡¯t even blink. ¡°Do you mean like codes and spy stuff?¡± ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what I mean.¡± ¡°No, Ma¡¯am, I can barely read my own writing, let alone try to cipher anyone else¡¯s scribbling.¡± Zed¡¯s aw-shucks, country-bumpkin attitude wasn¡¯t fooling Sydney. As soon as she asked her question, Mary¡¯s features gave her away. ¡°Well, I want to thank you for your time and the home-cooked meal. Zed was right; you are a wonderful cook, Mary.¡± Sydney got up to leave, and she extended her hand to Zed. He accepted it with a smile and said, "Ah, didn''t you have another question, Miss Swanson?" "No, that''s it. Thank you for your cooperation." You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. "No problem; I''m just sorry that you had to come all the way down here, and we were able to help you." "Oh, you''ve helped me Zed." Zed smiled back at her, "Well, let me walk you to your car, Ma''am." Sydney moved over to Mary and thanked her for the supper again. She honestly did think that it was a wonderful meal, but as she walked out of the kitchen, Mary said, "You know you look a lot like that woman Peter worked with in Vietnam, except her hair was long and auburn. What do you think, Zed?" Zed was quick to respond, "I don''t think so, Mary. She was definitely not as pretty as this young lady!" Sydney could see the recognition on his face even before he opened his mouth. This could be a problem for her. "I''d like to see that photo if you don''t mind digging it out for me," Sydney asked. "I''m sorry, ma''am, but I''m afraid we got rid of all those letters after we got the news of Peter''s death. We didn''t want the memories of that painful war." Zed said while staring at his wife with a stern look. Mary momentarily looked confused but knew Zed well enough to accompany his charade. Sydney continued to look at Mary''s face, and she could tell that Zed was lying. Sydney knew that Zed had caught her in the lie about not knowing his son and inwardly sighed. All she wanted to do was to confirm her suspicions that Peter¡¯s parents were the intended recipient of his last letter. Some of the wording in Peter¡¯s letter led her to believe this, but she couldn¡¯t say that she was one hundred percent sure. She liked these people; however, sometimes, it was just the simplest of words that could end your life. She didn¡¯t care about Zed, but Mary was so sweet. Now, it would be more difficult to kill them. But she had to do what she had to do. Self-preservation was a powerful motivation. ¡°I guess we can¡¯t compare that woman to this young lady now, can we,¡± Mary added. ¡°No, we can¡¯t. By the way, what agency did you say you were with?¡± Zed asked. Sydney shook her head slowly, took a half step backward, and slipped her hand inside her purse. She could feel the cold steel of the short-barreled Smith & Wesson 38 revolver in her hand. She had acquired the gun just in case of this eventuality. It was non-traceable and would quickly find its way to the bottom of some lake or river soon after its use. She found the pistol grip and locked her hand around it. ¡°I¡¯d like to believe you, but somehow you just haven¡¯t convinced me. I¡¯m sorry it had to come to this; I really am.¡± Sydney said with a sigh. Sydney had just started to pull the gun out when the old lab began to bark loudly. ¡°Come to this?¡± Mary said, more than a little confused while Zed was a little more observant and quickly realized their potential danger. ¡°It looks like we have some more company, Mary. That old dog is the best security system anyone could ever buy,¡± Zed said in an uneasy voice. ¡°Yes, you are lucky to have that old dog,¡± Sydney said with a mocking tone. She released her grip on the pistol and pulled out her credentials instead. ¡°I¡¯m with the CIA. I¡¯m sure I told you that, Mr. Jensen.¡± She held up her badge altered her credentials, and showed it to Zed. Zed didn¡¯t respond. He just nodded his head. ¡°Well, I guess that¡¯s all I have. Thank you again for your time and the wonderful supper, Mary.¡± They all made their way to the front door and were greeted by an old Ford pickup truck with two men inside coming up the driveway. The truck parked behind Sydney¡¯s rental, and two large men got out. One was a clone of the other but twenty-five years younger and 40 pounds lighter. The father and son duo were wearing seed caps, bib overalls, and plaid shirts, although they were different colors. They walked over to the group in what Sydney thought to be slow motion. ¡°Sorry for truden Zed, I didn¡¯t know you had some company dare. But ya see, Nils he got da Case stuck inda ditch and we¡¯s come by to ask if you could puller out with your big John Deere dare. By golly, we tried pretty hard to puller her out wit our Massey, but she¡¯s stuck pretty darn good don¡¯t ya know.¡± The older man said. ¡°No problem, Ben, the young lady was just leaving. Miss Swanson, this is Ben Stevenson and his son Nils. They live just down the road a piece.¡± Sydney greeted the two men with a smile and said, ¡°I¡¯m pleased to meet you both. Now, I¡¯m afraid I must leave; I have a long way to drive tonight before I get to my hotel in Minneapolis.¡± She didn¡¯t extend her hand to the man. Ken¡¯s hand was the size of a catcher¡¯s mitt and was covered in dirt, and Nils seemed to be just as shy around women as Peter had been. Sydney wasn¡¯t surprised that Zed neglected to inform the two country bumpkins that she was with the U.S. Government, but she was sure he would after she left. Everyone wished Miss Swanson a good night, and she got back into her Ford and quietly pulled out of the farmyard, thinking how lucky all four of those people were. What still worried her was the encrypted letter Jensen wrote to someone and that someone had the key to unlock it. If Zed had it, she would have to do something about that. After Jensen¡¯s death, she had gone through all his things, looking for anything that might incriminate her and found nothing. She found his camera and some film hidden in one of his boots and destroyed it without developing any of the film. Now, she regretted that mistake. On the drive back to her hotel, Sydney went back over her conversation with the Jensen¡¯s. She was sure Zed suspected her as being the same woman in the photo their son had sent them, but she was also sure that Peter hadn¡¯t passed on any information that could destroy her. She now was pleased that the two farmers had come when they did. It saved her a lot of complications that she didn¡¯t want to deal with. She decided to pay another visit to the Jensen¡¯s, but this time without lethal consequences. If Zed held the key that would unlock the encrypted letter that was now almost assuredly in the hands of Shawn Harris, he wouldn¡¯t have it for long. ***** Several days later, on a beautiful spring Sunday morning, Zed and Mary were returning home from Sunday services at Hope Lutheran Church in Farmington when Zed noticed a large tower of smoke rising into the air in the direction of their farm. Zed said casually, "I wonder if Jake is finally burning that pile of brush and trees that he cleared last fall." "That sure must be one big brush pile. I can see the flames from here." Mary said with concern in her voice. Zed was the first to make the connection when they reached the quarter-mile mark from their home. "Oh my God, Mary, I think our farm is on fire." As he got closer, they saw their entire barn and farmhouse completely engulfed in flames. The local volunteer fire department was already on the scene, but they were completely overmatched by the size of the inferno. Soon, other fire departments from larger towns arrived; however, it was already too late. In the end, the firefighters only managed to save several outbuildings that were upwind from the blaze. It was a tragedy, and the entire community felt their pain. Many wondered how those good people could cope with all the tragedy in their lives: first their only son, and now this. Chapter 30 Chapter 30 After Shawn pulled out of Vietnam, he spent the remaining days of his enlistment at Fort Bragg. While there, he tried to find out what had happened to Jesse. However, no one at Walter Reed seemed to know anything about his condition or even if he was ever admitted there. Shawn tried to find Jesse¡¯s mother in Bemus Point, NY, through the phone operator, with no success. He had lost Jesse¡¯s home address and phone number, and the local telephone assistance was of little help. What he couldn¡¯t have known was that his mother had remarried. She had sent Jesse a letter informing him of her short courtship and marriage to a local attorney. Unfortunately, it arrived the day he was airlifted back to the US. After his discharge, Shawn traveled the short distance back to Middlesboro, Kentucky, to look up old friends and family. Despite their father, Shawn had a lot of affection for his brothers and sister, who were all devastated by the loss of their mother. He was happy to finally meet his sister''s husband. He was a farmer and a good man. Both of his brothers had good jobs, although neither was married. His sister informed him that his old high school gym teacher had opened a "Dojang" in town, and he stopped to see him the next day. His former instructor was surprised to see how filled out Shawn had become. The "Sabum" introduced Shawn to his class and asked if any of his students would like to spar with him. None did. Shawn learned that the police had no clue as to the whereabouts of his stepfather, and he suspected the police had given up looking for the man. Shawn knew that Jack had relatives in Ft. Lauderdale and Denver, and after growing restless, he traveled to Florida to hopefully find him and settle the score. He bought an old Chevy C20 pickup truck with a cab-over camper and hit the road south. ***** It took Shawn just over four weeks to do what the police couldn¡¯t do in five years. When he arrived in Ft. Lauderdale, he purchased a dark, shoulder-length wig, dark sunglasses, hippie beads, and a floppy hat to hide his identity. Before he left Middlesboro, he started to grow a beard and mustache. He wore faded and torn bell-bottomed jeans and a jean jacket with peace symbols and American flags loosely sewn on. He didn¡¯t want anyone to accurately describe him to the police. If he found Jack, he had no intention of turning him over to them. Shawn found a small campground off of I-95 to park his pickup camper. He also needed a vehicle that was a little less conspicuous, and after two days of searching, he spotted a faded slate blue 1966 VW bug with a for sale sign on it for 350 dollars parked at a strip mall within a mile of his campsite. Shawn called the owner, and after a short negotiation, he paid the man 300 dollars cash for the bug and gave the seller a bogus name and address. The two men shook hands, and Shawn promised the seller he would transfer the title into his name and drove off. With the money in his hand, the man of Cuban descent didn¡¯t seem to care one way or the other if he did. Shawn drove around that night and found a black VW, which was approximately the same year. Although he couldn¡¯t be sure, they all looked the same to him. After all traffic and activity stopped, Shawn put on a pair of work gloves, took his screwdriver, and switched license plates with a pair he had stolen off a Chevy sedan. He then drove to a park and switched his VW¡¯s plates with the ones he had just absconded. After finishing, he walked over to a small pond adjacent to the campground and tossed the slate blue VW plates as far as he could into the muddy, brownish-green water. ***** Jack''s sister and her husband lived on a quiet residential street in a working-class neighborhood of Ft. Lauderdale. The home was a small single-story brick and stucco job they kept in fairly good condition. Kids'' bikes and toys were scattered all over the front yard, yet the lawn and trees were well-kept. Jack''s sister was a stay-at-home mom, and her husband worked long hours at a local factory. He wore a working man''s uniform: a light blue shirt with an oval nametag above the left-hand pocket, dark blue pants, and black work boots. He was a classy guy who came home every day after a hard day''s work and sat on the front steps with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He waved at all the neighbors who walked or drove by and was absolutely clueless about the image he portrayed to the rest of his neighbors. Shawn used a spotting scope from the delivery area in the back of a small strip mall to stake out Jack¡¯s sister¡¯s house almost two blocks away. It wasn¡¯t a perfect spot, but he could see all the cars coming and going down the street, and no one would call the police if someone spotted him with the scope. Shawn watched the house every day for two weeks without any luck. Thinking it was a dead end, he searched all the auto repair shops in and around the city. Jack was an auto mechanic by trade, and Shawn figured the man hadn¡¯t changed professions and had become a brain surgeon. He also assumed that Jack had either bought a new identity, so easily obtained on the streets of Miami or that he was working for cash and was not using his own social security number. Shawn suspected the latter. Using the Yellow Pages for the next two weeks, he visited over one hundred repair shops and gas stations in the Ft. Lauderdale area without any luck. At the rate he was going, it would take him the rest of his life to find Jack, if he was in Florida at all. He decided to stake out the sister¡¯s home one more time before he called it quits and moved on to Denver. ***** It was on a beautiful Sunday afternoon when Shawn spotted a maroon 1965 Cadillac Sedan Deville driving slowly down the street. A big man was behind the wheel, and a woman was in the front seat next to him. The driver pulled the big Caddy along the curb in front of Jack¡¯s sister¡¯s home and climbed out. Shawn put the spotting scope on him and immediately recognized the ugly bastard. Jack hadn¡¯t changed much in those few years. He watched with amusement as a forty-something woman with frizzy dishwater blond hair, bright red lipstick, and a quart of makeup got out of the Caddy with a cigarette dangling from her lips. She had a 16 oz. can of Colt 45 in one hand and four more in the other, joined together by a plastic six-pack retainer. The woman was a sight to behold. She appeared to be just over five tall and weighed in at around one hundred and fifty pounds. She wore pink pedal pushers from the nineteen-sixties that were skin tight, four-inch spiked heels, and a short white tube top. She had large breasts that swayed from side to side as she did a catwalk up to the front door. Clearly, this woman thought she was very sexy and that she was God¡¯s gift to men. Shawn figured that Jack had picked her up at a bar at closing time, and she had become a permanent fixture at his side ever since. After waking up and seeing this woman in bed, most men would do one of two things depending on their current state of inebriation. He would think he was the luckiest bastard that walked the earth or get up and quickly run to the bathroom and proceed to lose the entire contents of his stomach. Shawn assumed Jack thought the former. The darling couple was greeted halfway to the front door by the man of the house, who was sitting on the front step drinking a can of beer with two empties beside him. He shook Jack¡¯s hand and then proceeded to embrace the sexy blond thing with way too much enthusiasm. He let his bear hug last a bit too long, and Jack had to pull the man out of his prized possession. The woman seemed to enjoy all the fuss. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Shawn thought, ¡°What¡¯s this bitch like when she¡¯s really drunk.¡± The beautiful couple stayed most of the afternoon, and Shawn was ready when they left. The sexy blond thing fell on her ass several times, from the front door to the big Caddy, yet she managed to keep a cigarette dangling from the sexy lips and a beer can clutched in her chubby little fingers each time. The man of the house was more than happy to help her up, and he had his hands all over her when he did. On her last fall, she seemed to purposely pull down her tube top, exposing her breasts for much too long. As she got up, she laughed and eyed Jack¡¯s brother-in-law with a seductive smile, then slowly pulled up her tube top. ¡°You didn¡¯t see my anything, did you?¡± she asked with a giggle. Jack¡¯s brother-in-law didn¡¯t bother to answer her obvious rhetorical question. He just grinned from ear to ear! ***** Jack wasn¡¯t very happy with her little performance. He snatched up his little sweetie and planted her in the front seat of his car. Seconds later, the Caddy pulled away from the curb as the beauty queen blew kisses at the man of the house. Through the spotting scope, Shawn looked at the man standing at the curb and smiled when he saw that he appeared to be aroused. As he put the scope down, Shawn said, ¡°What a fucking loser!¡± ***** Shawn just hoped he could keep up with the Caddy. He knew that he was outmatched. The Caddy¡¯s big V8 had 7 times the horsepower of his little bug. He now wished that he had bought something with a little more punch. Yet the VW could offer him something no other car could: anonymity. Shawn followed the Caddy to the Interstate entrance and soon realized he was in trouble. The top speed of the VW was seventy-five mph. And that¡¯s when it was new. God only knew how many miles there were on it now. Jack headed south toward Miami with his prize passed out with her head on his lap. He quickly got the big Caddy up to seventy and held it there while fondling his princess as he drove. Shawn kept his foot to the floor as he shifted through all four gears, trying desperately to keep up. By the time he reached the top of the Interstate on-ramp, the Caddy was nowhere in sight. Shawn stayed in the right lane and looked down each exit he passed to see if Jack had gotten off. The little bug was doing seventy-two mph, but no more. He cursed himself for not seeing this possibility. Shawn¡¯s hopes faded with every mile without seeing the Caddy. Eighteen miles down the Interstate, Shawn finally spotted it. About a quarter mile ahead, the Caddy had slowed to exit the Interstate. Shawn held the gas pedal to the floor without slowing for the exit ramp and hoped the bug¡¯s brakes wouldn¡¯t fail him. When he looked at the stop light ahead, the Caddy was nowhere to be seen, and the light had just turned red. Shawn had to make a quick decision: right or left. He chose right, away from the Atlantic Ocean. There was no one in front of him, and he quickly glanced to his left and ran the red light. Another quarter mile ahead, he spotted the Caddy just as it turned right into a mobile home park. ¡°Gotcha, you bastard,¡± Shawn said as he pounded on the big steering wheel of the little car. Shawn pulled into the trailer park just as the sun was setting and wasn¡¯t surprised to see that there wasn¡¯t a security gate. After traveling just a short distance, he immediately knew that he had made a mistake. Shawn felt the eyes of everyone penetrating him, a strange car and driver going through their turf. He had entered a world that was foreign to him and one that was leery of strangers. This was the melting pot of the less fortunate, poor White trash, Cubans, Latinos, and Haitians, all in their own little pockets of hell with Pit bulls, Dobermans, and German Shepherds guarding their owner¡¯s turf and what little possessions they had. Cars ranging from junkers to new Mercedes and Cadillacs were parked next to trailers just a step above a shanty. The only way out was the way he came in, except if you knew where the emergency exit was, which Shawn didn¡¯t. He wanted out, and he wanted out quickly. Not that Shawn feared for his life. He didn¡¯t want anyone tipping off Jack that he¡¯d been tailed. After only traveling past fifteen trailers, Shawn tried to back up and turn around in a vacant parking space. Turning back to face forward again, he stopped as two young Latino boys blocked his way forward. ¡°Hey man, what the fuck you doin on my turf?¡± The bigger of the two demanded. Shawn judged the boys to be no more than seventeen or eighteen, their arms were full of tattoos, and they both had on hair nets or some sort of shit covering their heads. The smaller one was holding a bottle of cheap wine while the larger one stood with his arm folded across his chest in a defiant jester. He clearly thought he was tough. No fuckin hippie in a VW bug was going to be a match for him. Shawn had to defuse the situation as quickly as possible. He was too deep into the trailer park, and someone was going to get hurt if he didn¡¯t. He just hoped they didn¡¯t have guns. ***** Shawn wasn¡¯t worried about the two boys; he was more concerned with all the eyes that were watching them from the dingy trailers. They must have known he wasn¡¯t a cop, simply because no cop would be foolish enough to set foot in this park after sunset, especially without backup. They had to figure that he was either stupid, lost, or both. Shawn didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone, and he just hoped that it wouldn¡¯t come to that before he got out of the shithole. He decided to play dumb. ¡°Hey man, I ain¡¯t looking for no trouble. I just wanna buy some weed, that¡¯s all. Some dude on the beach told me to come to this trailer park and ask for Raoul in a blue trailer; he said he has the best weed around.¡± ¡°Shut the fuck up, you little faggot and get the fuck out of that little piece of fuckin shit,¡± the bigger one said as he kicked the side of the VW¡¯s door. ¡°Like I said, I don¡¯t want no trouble...I just came in here for some weed, that¡¯s all.¡± The bigger man just laughed, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a switchblade. He flipped it open and stuck it in Shawn¡¯s face. ¡°I said get the fuck out of the car, you mother fuckin little pussy, and empty your pockets, or I¡¯ll cut your face wide open.¡± Shawn just sighed and did as he was told. This was not going the way he hoped. His baggy, long-sleeved tie-dyed pullover top hid his muscular build, which would give him a little advantage. Not that he needed it. He just didn¡¯t want anyone to give the cops his description if things went south. Although he doubted that anyone in the trailer park would talk to the police if things did. He stepped out of the VW, put his hands in his pants pocket, pulled out a few dollars, and handed it to the man with the knife. ¡°That¡¯s all I got, man; take it and let me get out of here,¡± Shawn said quietly. That¡¯s all you fuckin got?¡± the Latino said in disbelief. ¡°What the fuck you gonna buy with this, you dumb fuckin cracker? Where¡¯s the rest of your money, fool.¡± The man reached for Shawn¡¯s front pockets with his free hand, and when he did, Shawn grabbed his wrist and held it firm. Shawn inwardly smiled at the look on the boy¡¯s face. ¡°What the fuck¡­are you stupid or something. I¡¯m gonna cut your fuckin face off.¡± The man lunged with his knife at Shawn¡¯s face, but before his knife found its target, Shawn slipped to the side and blocked the blade with his left hand. At the same time, he quickly released the man¡¯s wrist and hit him in the throat with a quick rabbit punch. The young man dropped the knife and put both of his hands on his damaged windpipe, and as he did, Shawn slammed his knee into his family jewels. The boy howled in pain and bent forward. Shawn grabbed his hair net, pulled his head down, and brought his knee up at the same time, striking him in his face and breaking his nose. He toppled over and lay on the ground in excruciating pain. Dumbshit number two stood with his mouth wide open, catching flies. He couldn¡¯t believe what he had just seen. A fuckin hippie driving a piece of shit VW drives in on their turf, and in a matter of seconds, he kicks the shit out of one of the toughest men in Little Haiti. The idiot should have run. Instead, he raised the wine bottle in his right hand and charged intent on taking Shawn¡¯s head off; however, he didn¡¯t get the chance. Shawn simply ducked the intended blow and took the man¡¯s feet right out from under him as he charged by off balance. Shawn was on him in an instant. He bent down and put a vicious blow to the side of the boy¡¯s head that sent him into the dream world. After finishing off the two young Latinos, Shawn looked around in all directions for any imminent danger. Finding none, he stepped over dumbshit number one and got into his VW. He started up the little four-banger, rammed it into first gear, dumped the clutch, and drove out of the cesspool before any other fools tried anything stupid. Chapter 31 Chapter 31 Shawn drove back to his campsite and had a hard time sleeping. Seeing the man who had killed his mother brought back a lot of painful memories that haunted him like a tireless apparition. In an effort to chase Jack Thomas down at any cost, he had made a mistake. He was mad at himself for not having the discipline of a good soldier to slow down and proceed with caution. Going into the trailer park without checking it out first could have cost him the chance to put Jack down. For a minute, he thought about searching for Jack¡¯s trailer on foot in the middle of the night but quickly dismissed the idea. Evil owned the night. There were just too many junkies and junkyard dogs. He decided to stake out the trailer park in the morning and wait for Jack to come out instead. Then he would find out where he worked and pick the time and place to kill him without the hassle of dogs, junkies, trailer trash, and bleached blond bimbos to contend with. A block west of the trailer park was a school parking lot. At 6:00 AM, Shawn slipped into a parking spot with a good view of the street and entrance to the trailer park. When Jack came out, he would follow him. He just hoped that he wouldn¡¯t get back on the freeway again. As the morning hours passed and there was no sign of Jack, Shawn hoped he hadn¡¯t made another mistake. Perhaps he was only there to visit someone else or to buy some drugs. Now, he wished he had waited outside the trailer park all night. He was relieved when, precisely at 9:00 AM, the Cadillac pulled out into the street and turned west, where Shawn was waiting. When he saw Jack pull out, he started up the bug and slipped in three cars behind the Caddy. He didn¡¯t have far to go. In a little less than three miles, Jack pulled into a gas station that had the gas pumps removed years ago. The former gas station had seen better days, and those days were long gone. The sign in the dirty window read, ¡°Auto Repair, We fix all makes and models.¡± The crooked sign that hung inside the front door read ¡°CLOSED.¡± Shawn watched as Jack parked the Caddy in the back of the building next to several other cars that looked like they hadn¡¯t been moved in months if not years. He continued to watch as Jack walked to the front door, slipped his key into the lock and opened the dingy establishment. Once inside, Jack flipped the sign on the front door and he was now ¡°OPEN¡± for business. The King had returned to his one-man empire. From across and slightly down the street, Shawn continued to watch the repair shop as Jack opened the overhead service door several minutes later. Inside, he could see the back end of a large, mid-sixties Buick. Shawn started up his little bug and drove around the block. As he did, he took notice of the run-down commercial buildings that had reached the bottom of the urban decay cycle. Graffiti filled almost every wall, and the sidewalks and streets were littered with trash. Some buildings had for rent or lease posted on the doors, while others were simply boarded up. The residential homes in the area were not much better off. A few were occupied by owners who couldn¡¯t afford to move, but the majority were rented by the less fortunate of society. Almost all were in need of paint and repair. Shawn pulled into the back of the repair shop and shut the ignition off. He sat for a moment, reflecting on what he would do. Finally, he reached into the glove box and pulled out a Smith & Wesson Model 36. The little 38 snobby had a two-inch barrel and was only suitable for work close-up. He sat for another five minutes before placing the pistol back in the glove compartment. Shawn got out and walked to the garage entrance. It was time to pay the piper. He entered through the front door and eased the door shut while he looked around at the absolute mess inside. There was the usual stench of gas and motor oil, but it was mixed with something else. It also smelled like a tawdry honky-tonk. The smell of cheap cigars, stale beer, and urine hit Shawn in the face. A battered and bruised old oak desk faced the front window. On top of it was a newspaper that was two weeks old, a set of car keys, several Playboy and Penthouse magazines, and a stack of unopened letters that looked like bills. In front of the desk was a high-backed oak swivel chair. The armrests, back, and seat were black with ground in dirt and oil. The floor was covered with missing asbestos tiles that were worn and filthy. The floor probably hadn¡¯t seen a broom or mop anytime in the last decade. On the far wall was a door that led to a restroom. From Shawn¡¯s viewpoint, it appeared that it hadn¡¯t been cleaned in years. He could see a Playboy pin-up on the restroom wall that was curled at the edges. Shawn thought that if only the pretty young thing could see where her assets were displayed, she might have thought twice before posing for the infamous magazine. To his right was a bench seat out of some old sedan sitting on top of several tires and rims to give it elevation. It, too, was filthy. Next to the bench seat was a pair of black bucket seats with a ¡°For Sale¡± sign plastered on them. Miscellaneous car parts and empty beer cans were strewn everywhere. Music was coming from the service area, and Jack was singing along to Glen Campbell¡¯s ¡°Rhinestone Cowboy,¡± although not very well. Shawn stepped to the edge of the service bay door and peered inside. Jack was hunched over the Buick¡¯s engine and unaware he had a visitor. ***** Shawn greeted Jack over the sound of the radio. ¡°Hello Jack, that was quite a charming woman you were with yesterday at your sister¡¯s house. What loser bar did you find that bimbo at? I¡¯m sure she will miss you for about thirty seconds after I plant you in the ground. She¡¯ll probably just flash her nasty shit at some unsuspecting loser in some dive bar and move on.¡± Jack was about to remove the distributor cap and replace the points when he heard Shawn¡¯s voice. He knew that this day would come someday. However, when Jack heard his voice, he was so startled he slammed his head against the car engine¡¯s hood. Undeterred, he calmly rubbed the sore spot and looked over at Shawn, standing just ten feet away. He backed up and turned off the Philco radio that was covered with grease and dirt. Now there was just annoying noise coming from it. Jack didn¡¯t say a word. He just studied the man in front of him. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Jack? Cat got your tongue? I¡¯ve never known you to be at a loss for words before! You must be truly overwhelmed with joy to see me again.¡± Jack had underestimated his stepson once before, but he wouldn¡¯t make the same mistake again. The man that stood before him now wasn¡¯t a mire boy anymore. He was a man of considerable size and strength. Composing himself, Jack answered his antagonizer. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Well, well, if it ain''t the scrawny little bastard who''s all grown up now. I honestly can''t say that I missed you, boy. I was hoping you''d get your ass killed in Vietnam, but no such fuckin luck. I did figure that you''d come looking'' for me someday, though. I knew the cops would quit looking, but not you. Now, I guess I''ll just have to deal with you right here and now. I''ll bet you didn''t call the cops, did you?" Shawn didn''t answer his question. "You''ve got nowhere to run, Jack. And yes, I''m'' afraid that you are going to have to deal with me. I''m going to finish what I started years ago." As Jack was listening to Shawn, he backed up and eased his way toward his tool chest. He knew that one day, either Shawn or the law would find him, and he had prepared for this eventuality. Jack had no intention of going to jail for the rest of his life or being put to death by lethal injection, for that matter. He wouldn¡¯t go down without a fight. And if he died trying, so be it. ¡°I see you put on a little bulk since high school, boy. Looks like the army made a man out of you after all. So now that you¡¯ve found me, what are my options?¡± Jack was making small talk in an effort to buy some time. Shawn chuckled; ¡°You have no options, Jack. You took my mother from me, and now I¡¯m going to kill you. An eye for an eye, it¡¯s as simple as that.¡± Now Jack laughed; ¡°That would be murder, boy. They¡¯ll put your sorry ass in prison for that. They¡¯ll probably even fry your ass for first-degree murder.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯ll just have to take my chances then, won¡¯t I.¡± Jack was less than two feet away from a drawer where he kept a loaded pistol. The small 1914 Colt Police Positive 32 revolver was just a backup. He kept his H&K 38 automatic in another tool chest. But it was closer to Shawn, and he had no way of getting his hands on it. He wished that he had it instead of the pea shooter. The small caliber gun wouldn¡¯t kill anyone unless he got a head, neck, or heart shot. He would have to be very lucky against a man as quick as his stepson. He finally reached the tool chest and put his hand on the drawer that held the pistol. ¡°Move away from the tool chest, asshole,¡± Shawn said in a loud voice that boomed through the garage and somewhat startled Jack. Shawn had only moved several feet from his original spot, where he had surprised Jack. Now, he started to move toward his quarry at an astonishing speed. Eight feet separated the two adversaries when Jack spun around and opened the chest drawer. He quickly grabbed the little Colt and thumbed the hammer back; however, before he could turn and fire, he was struck by a jaw-shattering blow to the side of his head that stunned him. Jack was a big man, and it would take more than one shot to take him down. Just as the next blow arrived, Jack managed to pull the trigger. The little pistol spit out a small bullet that only had to travel a few inches before it struck Shawn in the upper chest. He only got a quick glance at the gun coming around to meet him, but his mind had already committed to his next move. Shawn heard the shot and felt the bullet strike him just below his right collarbone. He had been hit before by much larger rounds, once in his right thigh and once in his upper left arm, yet luckily, neither had hit bone. During those firefights, he didn¡¯t feel the pain until the fighting was over. Now, the small round felt like a bee sting. Not wanting to receive any more, Shawn gave the gun his undivided attention. With both hands, Shawn grabbed the gun and pushed it away from his body. He needed to disarm Jack before he could do any more damage. Shawn tried to twist the gun from Jack¡¯s hand, but as he was succeeding in doing this, Jack drove his massive forehead into the side of Shawn¡¯s head. The blow loosened Shawn¡¯s grip just a bit, and the little gun roared again. The bullet barely missed Shawn¡¯s head and went through the opened hood of the Buick. Now Shawn was pissed, and he tried to shake off the effects of the head butt. His shirt was turning red from the blood pouring out of the hole in his chest. He once again tried to dislodge the gun from Jack¡¯s hand, and as he was about to succeed, he was hit in the ribs by Jack¡¯s left fist. The blow drove the wind out of him, but he wouldn¡¯t release his grip on the gun. Shawn now slammed Jack¡¯s hand and wrist into the front hood latch of the Buick. When his hand hit the latch, Jack howled out in pain and released his grip, and the gun fell harmlessly into the Buick¡¯s engine compartment. Now Shawn had the upper hand, and he drove his right knee into the lower left side of Jack''s abdomen. He followed up with a straight left that caught Jack right on the chin, but Shawn was off balance and didn''t have his full weight behind the punch. Jack was still rocked, and he reeled backward against his tool chest. Shawn was all over him in an instant. He did a quick spin kick that caught Jack in his rib cage and knocked the wind out of him. The kick was so powerful that Jack thought that he had broken several ribs. He tried to catch his breath but could only take in just a little air because the pain was too intense. Jack closed his eyes and felt more blows raining down on his head and chest. Shawn was relentless, and very soon, he would be knocked out and dead from the blows that he would never feel. Jack''s knees buckled, and he turned to face his tool chest to protect himself. He quickly realized he couldn''t take the ex-Army Green Beret in a hand-to-hand fight. He was much too strong and quick, even with a bullet hole in his chest that was leaking blood. Jack needed an equalizer, and he found one. His left hand fell on a breaker bar, and he grabbed it tight and waited for the opportune moment. After a hard punch to his right side, Jack spun to his left and swung the breaker bar at Shawn''s head. The blow didn''t land perfectly, yet it was just enough to daze him. Shawn reeled backward only for a second, then he started to come forward again when Jack grabbed the tool chest and toppled it toward him. Shawn quickly stepped aside as the tool chest crashed into the Buick''s front grill, giving Jack the precious few seconds he needed. He ran for the Buick''s slightly opened driver''s door. Shawn had to leap over the tool chest, and it slowed him just enough for Jack to make it into the driver¡¯s seat and slam the door shut. A half second later, Shawn was at the door trying to open it when Jack slammed the doorlock down. Safe behind the glass, Jack smiled through bloodied teeth and placed his middle finger against the window. A second later, the Buick¡¯s massive engine roared to life. A split second after that, the car was in reverse and heading out the garage door with its rear tires protesting the sudden acceleration with squeals and gray smoke pouring out from under the rear wheel wells. The force of the acceleration was enough to drive the engine hood downward, and Shawn was forced to jump backward as the Buick¡¯s black fender sped by. As Jack was backing out of the garage, the gun dropped out of the engine compartment and spun on the crumbling concrete floor right in front of him. He picked it up and took aim at the driver. He fired once as the car was backing up, hitting the windshield low and to the left, and three times when Jack turned and sped forward. Two of the slugs hit the driver¡¯s door just below the window, and the last slug hit the driver¡¯s window and it disintegrated into a thousand pieces. As he held the now empty gun, Shawn watched helplessly as the Buick turned the corner and was quickly out of sight. He had no idea if he hit Jack, although he thought his last shot was his best. Still, he was pissed. Not only did Jack get the drop on him by putting a hole in his chest, but the bastard also got away. Shawn threw the empty gun against the wall and went for the bathroom. He unwrapped a fresh roll of toilet paper from the toilet tank. Pulled off a foot of the stiff commercial-grade paper from the roll and carefully plugged the small caliber bullet hole in his chest. Shawn looked at the broken mirror on the wall and examined the exit wound. His shirt was covered in blood where the slug had passed through. Taking a new section of paper, he quickly plugged the exit wound. He was losing precious time, but he had to stop the bleeding. Chapter 32 Chapter 32 The little Bug was no match for the big V8 of the Buick. Then he remembered the keys that were lying on the desk. He rushed over and picked them up. He quickly found what he was looking for. The Cadillac emblem was on the rounded trunk and squared ignition keys. Now, he had some horsepower to work with. A wave of nausea caught Shawn momentarily, yet he managed to fight it off and ran for the Caddy. After slipping into the driver''s seat, Shawn started the big block engine. It instantly roared to life, and the chase was on. He slammed it into reverse and put his foot to the floor. Without looking, he spun the Caddy into the street and cranked the wheel hard to bring the front end around. Then he dropped the shifting gear into drive, barely taking his foot off the gas in the process. He was sure Jack would head for the trailer. Nevertheless, it was just a guess, and he had no other options. If he was smart, he would hide out somewhere with a friend if he had any. But Shawn knew from past experience that Jack wasn''t that bright. He was limited to one option without any idea where Jack was going. Shawn just hoped that Jack would head back to his trailer to pick up his beauty queen. Shawn had no other choice. He drove back to the trailer park, ignoring any and all stop signs and, when possible, traffic lights. At times, he exceeded the speed limit by twenty to forty miles per hour. He had just blown through a red traffic light when a police cruiser spotted the big Caddy breaking several traffic laws. The cruiser flipped on its lights and siren and shot after the fleeing offender. Two blocks ahead, Shawn was sure he spotted the Buick at a stop light, waiting for the light to change. The mid-morning traffic was heavy, with commuters going to work on this beautiful summer day. Shawn cursed his luck when he saw the police cruiser a block and a half behind him. The black and white was gaining on him at an alarming rate while drivers pulled over to let the cruiser pass. Shawn tromped the accelerator pedal to the floor and held on. ***** Jack saw the twin red lights of the police cruiser coming his way in his rearview mirror, but more alarming was his 1965 Caddy in front of it, and both were coming very fast. Jack was blocked by the car in front of him, but he had no one behind him. He jammed the shifter in reverse, backed up, and swung the front end of the Buick out and around the line of cars that were stopped at the light and hit the gas. Jack was lucky for once; when he was just a few yards from the intersection, the light turned green. Cars were honking at him as he dove by them, traveling in the wrong lane and direction. Jack thought he was clear as he swung the Buick back into the eastbound lanes when, out of the blue, a VW Microbus trying to make the tail end of the green light was right in front of him. The young driver¡¯s eyes were as wide with fright as he saw the big Buick bearing down on him. Jack hit the brakes and crammed the wheel hard to the right, hoping to miss the Microbus, but to no avail. The Buick¡¯s left front fender just caught the back end of the VW, sending the top-heavy vehicle out of control. Jack quickly recovered, but the VW wasn¡¯t as lucky. The Microbus spun sideways, and the momentum brought it up on two wheels, where it lingered there for just a moment before crashing down on its side in the middle of the intersection. Along with the police siren, more car horns started blaring at Jack, who just ignored them and drove on. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ***** Shawn saw the Buick back up and maneuver around the cars waiting at the light. He knew that if Jack got around the traffic and the light changed, he would be stuck in traffic, and the cop would have him. Then Shawn saw the VW bus enter the intersection from the south, and he knew that Jack would hit it. He could see the smoke pour off the tires of Jack¡¯s Buick as he slammed on his brakes. Seconds later, he saw the VW go sideways and then up on two wheels before gravity took over and crashed on its side. To his amazement, the traffic didn¡¯t advance when the light turned green. The VW bus was lying on its side, blocking traffic in both directions. Undaunted, Shawn followed Jack¡¯s lead and went around the mesmerized drivers. He passed the overturned bus and continued his pursuit while the police cruiser slowed and then stopped to assist the occupants of the overturned VW, thus giving Shawn a free shot at Jack. After three more green traffic lights, Shawn caught up with Jack again. The traffic light ahead of Jack turned red and the traffic was coming to a stop. Shawn had made up his mind to ram Jack from the side or behind, whatever he could do to try and stop him. ***** Jack cursed when he saw the Caddy follow him. The little prick was more tenacious than a Pitbull, but he was not going to let the bastard catch up with him and drag the police in with him. There would be no jail for him. Not ever. Again, he put the Buick in reverse, but this time, he turned the Buick toward the Caddy coming at him. He put the gas pedal to the floor and shot back in the direction that he had just come from. As he passed Shawn, Jack flipped him the bird and shouted, ¡°Fuck you, sunny boy,¡± through the blown-out window. By the time Shawn had time to react and turn around, the eastbound traffic started coming again, blocking his way. Shawn cursed and shot after Jack again, fighting his way into the oncoming traffic, knowing he would turn either north or south to avoid the accident ahead. As he weaved his way through the heavy traffic, he saw the Buick make a right turn one stoplight ahead. Shawn turned south and followed. Jack was pissed when he saw the Caddy make the turn. Fuckin little prick was like a tick on a hound. Jack pushed the gas pedal to the floor and fought through the heavy traffic, sideswiping several cars in the process and swerving into oncoming traffic, heading in the opposite direction. Jack cursed when he saw the light ahead turn yellow. He wouldn¡¯t make the light but needed to shake the leach off his tail. Less than a quarter mile ahead, Shawn saw smoke and steam coming from the intersection. As he approached, he could see there''d been another accident. However, this time, Jack wasn''t so lucky. He tried to run the red light and was struck broadside by a fast-moving delivery truck. Shawn went around the traffic and pulled up next to the Buick that was now just a twisted pile of junk. He got out and ran up to the Buick''s front door. The car had been thrown from the point of impact and came to rest at the base of a traffic light. The side of Jack''s head had been caved in, and his body was slumped across the bench seat toward the passenger''s side. Shawn shoved two people aside until he was finally looking into Jack''s bloodied face. One look and Shawn knew that if Jack wasn''t already dead, he would not be long for this life. Shawn reached into the caved-in side of the Buick and felt for a pulse on Jack''s exposed neck. He found none. Then he noticed blood oozing from a small hole in his shoulder. The last slug from Jack''s revolver must have found its mark. Shawn slumped to the ground and quietly said, ¡°Not the way I wanted it to end. But at last, I have justice.¡± A middle-aged man came up beside Shawn and asked, ¡°Are you okay, mister?¡± Shawn turned to look at the man but didn¡¯t reply. He didn¡¯t feel like talking. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding all over your shirt, and you have a nasty gash on the side of your head. You just rest; an ambulance should be here soon.¡± As the rush from the chase started to subside, Shawn began to feel the pain in his chest, yet strangely, he welcomed it. Chapter 33 Chapter 33 Shawn was taken to the local hospital, where he was treated for his gunshot wound and received several stitches to his head. He was just coming around after surgery when he looked up and saw a woman in a white smock standing at the foot of his bead and looking over his chart. The doctor was no stranger to gunshot wounds and greeted Shawn with a warm smile. ¡°You¡¯re a very lucky man, Mr. Harris. The slug passed right through without doing any major damage; however, I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ve lost a lot of blood. It was a good thing someone plugged the holes up with what looks like cheap toilet paper. It also appears that you are no stranger to gunshot wounds. And if I¡¯m not mistaken, you still have a small amount of what appears to be shrapnel in your back. Did you get those wounds in Vietnam?¡± Shawn didn¡¯t answer and asked, ¡°And who are you?¡± ¡°Oh, forgive me. I¡¯m Doctor Peterson. I did that little patch job on you.¡± ¡°Thanks, Doc. When can I get the hell out of here?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re in no condition to go anywhere for a few days. And as far as your release, that¡¯s not up to me. I¡¯m afraid there¡¯s a police detective out in the hall who wants to talk with you. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s at all pleased with what you did. He mentioned something about taking matters into your own hands regarding a suspected killer and not informing the police?¡± Not wanting to trouble the doctor with his problems, Shawn let her know that he had every right to do what he did. ¡°That man was my stepfather, and he killed my mother five years ago. I just did what the cops couldn¡¯t seem to do. By the way, is he dead?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear about your mother, Mr. Harris. As for your stepfather, I¡¯ll let the detective answer your questions. Do you want to talk with the detective now, or do you want to rest?¡± She gave Shawn a beautiful smile that made her face light up. The young doctor wasn¡¯t the most attractive woman he had ever laid eyes on, but she sure had a great bedside manner. ¡°Send in the dragon slayer. I might as well get it over with.¡± Doctor Peterson raised her eyebrows and nodded. ¡°I¡¯m only going to give him ten minutes, and then you need to get some rest. I¡¯ll come by tomorrow and see how you¡¯re doing.¡± She made some notes on his chart, gave him a wink, and said, ¡°I¡¯ll be back later to check up on you, Mr. Harris,¡± then she turned and left the room. For the first time, Shawn noticed that his right leg was shackled to the bed frame. Immediately after the police arrived at the crash scene and before the ambulance arrived, Shawn was questioned about his involvement in the car chase and his bullet wound. Before he was taken to the hospital, Shawn explained to the officer about his stepfather¡¯s involvement in his mother¡¯s death and everything that went down at the garage and car chase that ended there. ***** The North Miami police detective told Shawn that he wasn¡¯t being charged with any crime at this time. He then asked Shawn if he wanted to be advised by an attorney and have him present before he asked him any questions. When Shawn declined, he turned on his recorder and listened patiently as Shawn told him his story. He only interrupted him a few times to clarify a few points. When Shawn was finished spoon-feeding the detective his story, he took a sip of water and set the glass down. The detective took off his reading glasses, folded his notebook, and put his pen back in his shirt pocket. He sighed and said, "Well, young man, that was a very interesting story. So you''re telling me that you don''t intend to kill your stepfather. You were just going to kick the shit out of him and then call the police." Shawn paused for a long time before he answered the man. He nodded and said, "I admit that initially, I did intend to kill him. But I couldn''t do it. After I found him, I followed him to his garage. I just wanted to inflict some pain on him and let the police and the courts take it from there." "But your stepfather pulled the gun on you?" "That''s right." The door to Shawn''s room suddenly opened, and a large, matronly nurse walked in with a no-nonsense look. "I''m afraid your time is up, detective. My patient needs his rest." "No problem. I think I have all that I need for now anyway." Before the detective left the room, Shawn said, "It didn''t end the way I intended." The detective looked puzzled, "What do you mean?" "I didn''t intend for him to die that way." "They didn''t tell you?" "Tell me what?" "Your stepfather isn''t dead. He''s in a coma, but his chances aren''t good." Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. With that, the detective wished Shawn a speedy recovery and left the room. ***** The detective did his homework on both men, the one lying in a coma and the one in the hospital bed that he had just interviewed. There was probably no doubt that Jack Thomas had killed his wife. However, he hadn¡¯t been convicted of that crime in a court of law. Although he didn¡¯t believe in vigilante justice, he had compassion for the young man and understood his motives. He looked into Shawn¡¯s service records and was impressed with what he was able to find. He wasn¡¯t a simple grunt. The Green Beret had at least three purple hearts, one bronze, and two silver stars. He also learned that he had been busted several times for insubordination. His service records for the last two years were so classified that even his top-level connections in the military couldn¡¯t find anything on the man. The fifty-five-year-old detective had seen action in WW2 at Guadalcanal and the Solomon Islands in the Pacific Theater. He was a Second Marine Raider Battalion member that took the airfield on Guadalcanal. He fought alongside Gunnery Sergeant Shawn Basilone, the first Marine Medal of Honor recipient for his actions against the Japanese defenders on Guadalcanal and who was later killed in action at Iwo Jima by mortar shrapnel. He felt some kindred toward the young soldier lying in the hospital bed but was also a law enforcement officer sworn to uphold the law. The detective searched Jack¡¯s garage and had the VW Bug with stolen plates impounded. From the evidence they found, Shawn¡¯s story about the fight inside the garage checked out. They pulled the slug from the wall that had gone through Shawn¡¯s chest and it matched the gun on the garage floor as did the slugs recovered from the Buick¡¯s door. The gun contained latent prints from both Jackson and Harris. The VW was registered to a Carlos Garza who claimed he sold it to a long haired hippie that fit Harris¡¯s description. They also found a wig and some hippie clothes in the back seat along with a Smith & Wesson Model 36, with the serial number ground off, in the glove box. The detective walked down the hospital hallway until he came to the room where a fifty-pound overweight cop was stationed outside Shawn¡¯s room. The two men spoke briefly, and the cop packed up his things and walked away. Doc Peterson was just finishing examining his wound when he knocked on the door and poked his head inside. ¡°How¡¯s the patient doc? Can I come in?¡± The doctor looked at Shawn and winked at him. ¡°He¡¯s doing just fine. He should be out chasing young ladies in no time. I¡¯m through now, so you can have a minute with him if my patient feels up to it.¡± Shawn nodded his head and gave the doctor a smile. After the doctor left the room, the detective approached Shawn with a package. ¡°You know, Shawn, taking things into your own hands was not the smartest move. There¡¯s a saying by an old Chinese Philosopher who said ¡°Before you embark on a journey of revenge, you better dig two graves.¡± ¡°Thank you for those belated words of wisdom detective. But you have to understand that it was just something I had to do.¡± The detective nodded and said, ¡°I do understand your motives, son; however, you went about it the wrong way.¡± Shawn was about to reply but thought it was best to keep his mouth shut. ¡°Your stepfather isn¡¯t going to make it. It¡¯s just a matter of time. I don¡¯t know how the DA got wind of this case so fast, but the fact is, he did. If he dies, I got word through the grapevine that he¡¯s going to press charges against you for manslaughter.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t kill him. He ran the red light and was struck by that truck.¡± ¡°All I can tell is that the DA will try to prove intent.¡± ¡°What intent. I was going to beat the crap out of him, I¡¯ll admit that, but I didn¡¯t intend to kill him.¡± ¡°You shot at him as he fled the garage and struck him in the shoulder. He will try and prove that you intentionally tried to kill him and the accident with the truck was just a byproduct of his escape from you. You should have never picked up that gun.¡± ¡°I admit that was a mistake, but I didn¡¯t want the bastard to get away again. Because the simple fact still remains: he killed my mother.¡± ¡°He was never tried for that crime, and if he recovers, he will be turned over to the proper authorities for prosecution. Son, I¡¯m not an attorney, but I¡¯m sure if this goes before a jury, you will be cleared of all charges. But I will tell you one thing. This DA is a major prick when it comes to anyone who wears a military uniform. He was on the campus of Kent State in the spring of 1970 when the Ohio National Guardsmen opened fire on students who were protesting the American invasion of Cambodia. Nine people were gunned down that day. One of his friends who was standing next to him at the time was killed, and he was hit. He recovered from those injuries, but four others weren¡¯t so fortunate.¡± ¡°Are there any charges against me now?¡± Shawn said as he pointed at the shackle on his leg. The detective smiled, took out his key, and unlocked the restraint. ¡°This is my last case. I¡¯m retiring next week. After thirty years of this shit, I¡¯ve seen enough. The DA wants me to hold you, but I don¡¯t give a shit what that little prick wants. I¡¯m going to close this case and drop all the misdemeanor charges against you, regardless of what the DA says. Now I have to warn you, when your stepfather dies, the DA will issue a warrant for your arrest.¡± ¡°Am I free to leave the state?¡± ¡°When you leave here, I cannot control where you go. You can go anywhere in the world for all I care. You can pick up your VW from the impound lot if you want. You¡¯ll have to register it, pay for the towing, and get new plates. And I¡¯m afraid you won¡¯t get your 38 Saturday night special back. I got you some new clothes. After all, we can¡¯t have our fine citizens walking around with bullet holes and blood stains on their clothes, now can we.¡± ¡°No big deal about the gun.¡± Shawn held out his hand, ¡°I want to thank you for all you¡¯ve done for me, sir.¡± The detective put his hand on his shoulder and said, ¡°You can thank Colonel Bennett.¡± ¡°Colonel Bennett?¡± Shawn seemed shocked by this. ¡°I had some friends of mine take a look at your record. They are very well connected in the military. When I saw your record, I was pretty impressed. I don¡¯t know how the Colonel found out about your situation, but he called me last night at my home, and we had a very long conversation about you. He never did tell me how he got my home number but I suspect that the Colonel is also well connected. He wants you to call him. I think he has a proposal he wants to run by you. He left this number for you to call.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already been down that road with him, but I will call him just to thank him for his¡­input.¡± The detective handed him the number and said, ¡°Get some rest, young man. I also hope you¡¯ve put your demons to rest.¡± ¡°I have, but it still doesn¡¯t ease the pain that he caused me.¡± The detective nodded in understanding and opened the door. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, Shawn said, ¡°By the way, did you serve in the military?¡± The detective slowly turned around to face Shawn. He smiled and said, ¡°I saw a little action in the Pacific.¡± He then turned away and pulled the door shut behind him. Part III Chapter 34 Part III Mystic Connecticut 30 years later Chapter 34 The cargo van driver had been watching the cemetery from different locations in the early morning hours for several days. The gates would not officially open until 8:00 AM, but the man was not going to visit during regular visiting hours. An early morning jogger approached the cemetery gate. He stopped and looked both ways down the tree-lined road before swiftly moving to the massive iron gates. He wore black Nike sweatpants and a matching hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head to conceal his identity. He had the lock picked in seconds. He then pulled out his cell phone and made the call. ¡°We¡¯re in.¡± The reply was short, ¡°Half a minute.¡± The jogger walked back to the road and pretended to stretch his legs. Twenty-five seconds later, a rusty Ford Econoline pulled off the road and up to the cemetery gates. The jogger was waiting, and as soon as the van pulled off the road, he swung the twin gates open, and the van shot through the massive stone entrance and into the cemetery without being noticed. The jogger closed the gates, took up a position out of sight from the road, and waited. ***** There was a cool chill in the air as the sun was just starting to light up the eastern horizon on a clear, cloudless sky. Sunrise was less than a half hour away on what was about to be a spectacular fall day in Connecticut. The trees were changing into a kaleidoscope of colors, and the earthy smell of decaying leaves filled the air. The van had no front license plate, and the back plate was covered by a tarp protruding from the rear cargo doors. Following the map, the driver followed the road to the gravesite. As he traveled down the road, he could hear the sounds of birds singing in the trees and the sounds of the van¡¯s tires crunching on the loose gravel through the open widow. He finally stopped at the location marked on the map and turned off the motor. A tall, slender man of Middle Eastern descent stepped out of the van and approached the family burial site. The names on the headstones matched those on his map. The large elm tree was precisely where it was supposed to be. It was positioned on a slight rise just above the soon-to-be-occupied but now empty gravesite. The man knew he had to work quickly. It was absolutely imperative that he not be observed or heard. Looking in every direction, he started the Honda generator inside the cargo area and ran an extension cord to the elm tree. He grabbed a black case from the van, shut the door, and proceeded to the tree. He had practiced this many times on similar trees and knew just how long it should take. After measuring the correct height and angle, he pulled a template out of the black case and placed it on the tree. He marked the prearranged holes on the tree with five quarter-inch black dots, four at the corners and one in the middle. Then using an electric hammer drill, he screwed a large lag bolt into the center mark. He reversed the lag screw and inserted an eye bolt into the threaded hole, and screwed it in by hand. Stolen novel; please report. He started his first plunge cut between the first two black dots just eight minutes after he cleared the gate. The modified twenty-inch Stihl chainsaw had been reworked to emit only twenty-five decibels from the usually very noisy exhaust. He would exchange the lower decibel levels for performance any day. The man didn¡¯t want to attract any undue attention. The chain was super sharp and cut easily despite its reduced power. After connecting all four dots to make an eight-inch square opening, he turned to the side of the tree and made another plunge cut to cut the back of the box out. As he did, he watched the square cut of wood in the front of the tree as it finally came loose. He put the chain saw down, grabbed the eyebolt, and pulled out the block of wood. He measured the cutout depth, quickly removed the eyebolt, and cut the back off the chunk of wood, leaving just the bark and one inch of wood. He returned to the van and grabbed a heavy stainless steel box. ***** The man placed the box into the tree opening. The seven-inch square by six-inch deep box fit into the tree with ease. He placed two long lag screws into the tubes that were welded to the sides of the box and drove them into the tree with the hammer drill, thus securing it into the nest. He grabbed the single thin wire that was sealed, coming out of the box, and ran it out of the tree opening. Next, he picked up the cut-off tree bark and plug, placed it over the nails that were welded to the face of the box, and centered it in the opening. He tapped the plug into the nails with a hard rubber mallet and flushed it with the outside of the tree. Satisfied with his work, he returned to the van with most of his tools and put them away. He next grabbed a five-gallon pail filled with supplies and a shop vacuum, and walked to the tree again. He placed precut wooden shims into the gaps around the plug and caulked them into place. Plugging in the vacuum, he switched it on the sucked up all the woodcuttings. Next, he removed the art supplies from the pail and completed his masterpiece. When he was finished, no one could tell that he had been there. The tree looked just as it did before he started. No one would even spot the thin wire running along the bark. ***** When everything was finished, he took out an instrument and passed it over the tree where the box was now hidden. He was very pleased with the results; it didn¡¯t set off the alarm. He removed a camera from his pocket and took several digital photos. After carefully looking the whole area over for potential witnesses and finding none, he got into his van and made for the exit where he would pick up his spotter. He was on the street just as most of the citizens of the sleepy little town were having their morning coffee. He had completed his task in twenty-eight minutes. Two minutes under his target time. Later that morning and miles away he inserted a sim card into a clean cell phone and sent a text message. ¡°Flowers planted just need watering.¡± Chapter 35 Chapter 35 President David Roberts was only sixty days away from being elected to a second term as the most powerful man on the planet. Roberts possessed an incredibly charismatic personality from an early age. He could light up any room he entered. He was the life of the party in college and could have had almost any woman he wanted. He grew up in an era of flower power and free love in San Francisco¡¯s Height-Ashbury district. Roberts was raised by pot-smoking liberal parents who were staunch atheists who hated all religions but primarily Christianity. They tried to instill those same beliefs in David. But David was his own man. He was not easily influenced by any ideology, especially by those who were intolerant, and his parents were very intolerant of anyone who didn¡¯t share their views. Roberts wasn¡¯t the most handsome man, but he easily made up for it with abundant wit and charm. Smart and politically savvy, he knew how to play the political game and played it very well. Roberts earned a law degree at Berkeley and put his shingle out at the District Attorney¡¯s office in San Francisco. After paying his dues and prosecuting some high-profile cases, he ran for Attorney General of California and won. ***** After only one term in office, he took the next leap and ran for Governor of California. During his campaign, he promised to fix the state¡¯s financial problems, reform immigration laws, and deal with social and environmental issues. He won by a landslide over the Democratic incumbent who had failed miserably in his first term. One thing that his predecessor lacked was his ability to work with both sides of the aisle. Roberts was a master at it. Even his staunchest Democratic critics admired him when they stepped away from the cameras. The state still had significant problems, but overall, his controversial policies took the state out of financial ruin. He was re-elected to the highest office in California for a second term in a race that wasn¡¯t even close. However, Roberts wanted something more. He wanted the White House. ***** He could see the handwriting on the wall. There would be no better time to run for the Presidency. Things weren¡¯t going well for the current President, who just happened to be a Democrat. The party knew it was in deep trouble in the upcoming election and poured massive amounts of money and resources into the President¡¯s re-election campaign. But with a stagnant economy, unemployment, and underemployment that was ripping at the backbone of the middle class, wars and unrest in the Middle East, a staggering national debt, and a shrinking dollar, it appeared to be a lost cause. Added to that, his wife was involved in a sex scandal with more than one of her many female staffers. Yet despite all that, the election was going to be close. Not only did Roberts have to run against his opponent, he had to fight the liberal bias of the mainstream media, Hollywood celebrities, and the global power brokers that were secretly behind them. It apparently didn¡¯t matter that everyone¡¯s personal wealth had dropped by thirty percent during his administration. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. But the American public seemed to be blind. The president was a rock star with a forked tongue that had people mesmerized by his charm and good looks. He could do no wrong, and his blame game had always worked. He was just like John Gotti. His suites were made of Teflon, and nothing stuck to him. But even Gotti had his fall. ***** Despite his parents or more than likely because of them, Roberts floated his boat right down the middle of the river or just slightly to the right bank. The United States had always been right of center, but like a slow-moving glacier, the polar shift was slowly and steadily advancing. Roberts felt that he had to halt that change, or the country would slide into something the founding fathers of this great nation would never recognize nor condone. That November, Roberts won by a narrow margin. But he still won. As President, Roberts could play both sides of the aisle. With handshakes and backslaps, he persuaded his colleagues and enemies alike to see things his way. Politics, after all, was still the art of the deal, whether it was heavy-handed or softly caressed. Because of his policies, the business community started hiring and investing the vast amounts of cash they had been hoarding. Slowly, the economy turned the corner, and by the end of his first term, unemployment was at near-normal levels. The housing market had regained most but not all of its losses, and once again, the American public had confidence in the direction the country was headed, and they started to spend. At the end of his first term, Roberts was twenty points ahead of his Democratic rival, who didn¡¯t have any of the former Democratic president¡¯s charisma, nor was he hailed as the messiah, as was the former president. With everything going his way, no one in Washington was going to deny him a sure victory. Then tragedy struck. His Vice President died of a massive heart attack just sixty days before the November election. Chapter 36 Chapter 36 Since its founding, OPEC had controlled the world¡¯s oil supply in almost every nation. Through the years, they had placed men in high offices in every major government around the globe to protect their interests. With oil wealth came power. And there was plenty of money to grease the sweaty palms and any politician in power that needed to be lubricated. Now, their stranglehold on the world was in danger. Roberts wasn¡¯t playing ball, as did most former Presidents before him. Every year, US Presidents would give their ¡°State of the Union¡± address and talk with much bravado about standing up to the oil cartels. They needed alternative energy, solar, wind, geothermal, and hydrogen fuel, but they did little or nothing about it, and when some terrorist group in some shithole of a country blow up a single oil well or pipeline anywhere in the world, gas prices soared. What most people didn¡¯t realize, and few were fully aware of, was that powerful men controlled the world¡¯s economy by controlling and manipulating oil prices. Henry A. Kissinger, John D. Rockefeller''s well-compensated, multi-purpose minion and long-time Council on Foreign Relations member, said: "Control the oil, and you can control entire Continents. Control food, and you control people." Belgian author Michel Collon said: "If you want to rule the world, you need to control oil. All the oil Anywhere." ***** The man in charge of running the resources of one of the largest oil-producing countries in the world sat behind his opulent 22-carat gold-trimmed Brazilian rosewood desk and read the report. With seventy-five percent of the government''s revenues and ninety percent coming from oil exports, the country''s wealth was solely dependent on black gold. Without it, the country''s seven million foreign workers would vacate it and leave its citizens to fend for themselves. Nature would take its course, and its inhabitants would eventually return to the seventh century and heard camels again. But one man wasn''t going to let that happen. ***** Like Osama Bin Laden, Sheik Mohammed Bin Abdullah Al Ali wasn¡¯t a member of the thousands of Arab men who made up the House of Saud. At first, he was far removed from the innermost circles of the Saudi Royal Family, but he slowly made his way in. Educated at Cambridge, Al Ali earned a Master of Science degree in economics and geology. Over the years, he finally worked his way up to the top spot of Minister of Petroleum and Mineral Resources. From his youth, Al Ali had always been a devout Muslim who faithfully practiced the five pillars of Islam. But it wasn¡¯t until he escaped death in a near-fatal light plane crash while surveying promising oil fields that he had serious doubts about his assurance in paradise. After he recovered, he met and studied with a radical Wahhabi Imam who changed his view of the world and his place in it. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. He knew that Allah had blessed the Arabs with oil, but he could never understand why the non-believers, especially the West and Israel, prospered if they were accursed by his god. It wasn¡¯t until the Imam informed him that the world needed to become fully under the control of Islam, under a worldwide caliphate, that Al Ali fully understood Allah¡¯s plan. But unlike Bin Laden, the Imam offered him a different path. Instead of Jihad, which Al Ali truly believed in, it would be a fundamental takeover of the world by a much more subtle means. There was a time when Islam could be spread by the sword, but that time was long gone. Now however, it needed to be a systematic takeover by other means, such as immigration and peaceful conversion. And that would take money, and his country could provide billions. As Ali read the report, he became very concerned with President Roberts''s new energy policies, and the report confirmed the rumors that he was secretly funding an alternative energy research facility in New Mexico. Years ago, he had raised his concerns about alternative energy to the Saudi Royal Family, but after listening to him politely, his concerns seemed to fall on deaf ears. That''s when Ali decided to take matters into his own hands. He wasn''t concerned about his country''s appearance without needing oil. However, he was very concerned with what it would do to the spread of Islam. As the founder of "The Ishmael Group," the man felt he had no choice but to take action. He picked up his secure cell phone and called a man in Gaza City who shared the same vision. Over the years, many new alternative energy discoveries had been made in many countries around the globe; most were either bought off by the ¡°The Ishmael Group,¡± or many of the top research engineers just disappeared along with their discoveries and research notes. If they couldn¡¯t be bought off, threats to family members usually worked. The man sitting behind the golden desk understood that men would do almost anything to protect their loved ones. If not, a well-paid special group of men would handle the dirty work for him. President Roberts had become a huge threat to his vision of a new Islamic world order. Upon taking office on his first term, Roberts was discreetly briefed by the Prime Minister of Israel of the dark forces that would do anything to protect the oil status quo. Most of his predecessors had also been informed, yet they did little or nothing about it. Roberts then secretly set up a special team that recruited top research scientists from around the globe. This team recruited and moved scientists to a secret national research laboratory in New Mexico, a facility that was secured by the US Military. Roberts¡¯s team was spending billions on research to find alternative energy resources, much to Al Ali¡¯s displeasure. Chapter 37 Chapter 37 Prague, the Czech Republic The sun had been down for nearly three hours when Ivan Rakov slipped unnoticed into the back alleyway of the small apartment building on a quiet residential street in Prague. Except for the few slight differences in the front facade, the brick building was almost exactly the same as all the other apartment buildings on the block. He could detect no security cameras anywhere on the street or on the apartment building exterior. Ivan never took chances, though. He swore that he would never set foot in prison again. Ivan entered the alley and stopped to scan the area. He heard a few dogs barking in the distance and spotted a mangy cat searching for scraps in the nearby garbage cans. Other than that, the alley was empty. His eyes ever alert, he slowly walked up to the back of the apartment building and used his picklock to gain entry through the back door. He turned the door handle and cautiously looked in every direction before entering. The target¡¯s apartment unit was on the third floor in the back of the building, and his closest neighbor was across and down the hall. She was an elderly woman who retired to bed early and was up before the crack of dawn. He had been watching the apartment for several days and knew the man¡¯s routine. He had one hour before Dr. Chakinski would arrive home. The young man lived alone and had no girlfriend or few friends that Ivan knew of. The man was a research scientist. Some would call him a genius, but to Ivan, he was just another assignment that would pay him well. It had been several years since Ivan had set foot in Prague. The last time, he was working for a different employer. He was sent there to kill a man who took something that didn¡¯t belong to him. It belonged to one of the most ruthless men in the Russian mob. It was a fatal mistake with lethal consequences for the thief and a well-paid job for Rakov. Ivan bathed with unscented soap, and his clothes were washed and dried the same way. Although being a heavy smoker, he never smoked when he was on the job. He once made the mistake of not bathing or washing his clothes for several days while staking out a target. Ivan was new to the game then, and it had almost cost him his life. His target had picked up his offensive odor as soon as he entered his Moscow home. Now, years later and at the tender age of twenty-four, he was a seasoned professional and didn¡¯t make mistakes. Ivan quietly made his way to the third floor, and within seconds, he was at the target''s door. Using the picklock again, he quickly opened the door and entered the small apartment as quietly as a mouse. Ivan stood just inside the doorway and surveyed the sparsely furnished apartment. He was not surprised to see several low-wattage lights on in every room. He knew that Peter Chakinski deliberately left them on when he was not home and only turned them off when he went to bed. Undaunted, Ivan moved to the desk with a laptop computer perched on top of it. He opened the computer, and as he suspected, a short black line blinked on the user password entry box. Ivan plugged a flash drive into an unused USB port, and it attempted to start a download that would extract everything from the hard drive. However, it was immediately stopped by the computer''s very good security system. Ivan called Dimitri, who confirmed the failure. They now decided to install a monitoring camera to hopefully capture Chakinski''s password. He closed the laptop and moved on. Using his flashlight, he searched the entire apartment for any disks or flash drives he could copy. He found none. After searching the entire apartment, he reached into his bag and pulled out a small camera. He found the perfect hiding place in the smoke detector mounted to the ceiling in the main room. After installing the camera, he made a call and confirmed the reception. Ivan slipped out of the apartment and into the hallway two minutes later. As he made his way to the back stairs, he took one last look before heading down the staircase. The movement was slight, but he just caught the door to the elderly woman¡¯s apartment close without a sound. Ivan let out a sigh and turned around. Now, he had to deal with Martha. Ivan approached her door and knocked gently. Very softly, he said. ¡°Martha, I¡¯m one of Peter¡¯s associates. I¡¯m afraid Peter¡¯s been in a bad auto accident.¡± Ivan waited for the old woman to reply and was only met with silence. ¡°I just wanted to tell you because I saw that you were still up. Good night, Martha.¡± Ivan slowly started down the hall. He knew she would open her door, and he wasn¡¯t disappointed. Martha undid all the door locks and stuck her head into the hall. She was immediately frightened by his appearance. She knew he was Russian by his voice, but she wasn¡¯t prepared for what she saw. The man looked very dangerous. He was very large and muscular. He wore dark pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. His head was large and round, with many visible scars. His hair was long and jet black, as was his mustache. As he got closer, she could see a spider web tattoo coming out of his shirt collar and tattoos on his hands and arms. Despite her reservation, the man had a very calming voice, and her concern for Peter overrode her initial fear, yet she remained very cautious. "What happened to Peter? Is he all right? You said something about an auto accident?" Ivan inwardly smiled, "Peter is fine. He wasn''t injured badly, but they are keeping him at the hospital for a while just to monitor his condition." I don''t believe I''ve ever seen you before. Who did you say you were?" "I''m one of Peter''s security people. My name is Ivan." Martha knew of Peters''s work, and he told her of the risks of his research. Peter had never mentioned any security people before, so she remained guardedly suspicious. Ivan slowly started back toward Martha''s apartment. He didn''t risk making any sudden moves that would alarm the old woman. As he got closer, the scars on his face were more prominent. "When did this happen? Martha asked with great concern in her voice. As Ivan moved closer, she instinctively moved back into her apartment yet remained close by the door. ¡°A couple of hours ago, he went to pick up some supplies for the lab, and his auto was struck by a lorry.¡± ¡°How do you know my name, and how did you get into the building?¡± ¡°Peter gave me his key and told me to come by and pick something up for him while he was in the hospital. He also told me to tell you he would be there for a while if you were still up. He knows you go to bed early, so I didn¡¯t want to wake you. He told me to give you this note if you were up.¡± Ivan lied and reached into his pocket, pretending to take out the fictitious note. With this new information, Martha let her guard down and reached out her hand to take the note. Ivan used it to close the gap quickly, and he was on her in an instant. Ivan grabbed her left arm, pulled it hard, and spun her around before she knew what happened. He placed one big hand over her mouth and the other across her shoulders. He then lifted her back into her apartment and used his foot to close the door. ¡°Martha, I¡¯m very sorry, but you should¡¯ve gone to bed,¡± Ivan said, slightly dismayed. He looked around the small living quarters and wasn¡¯t surprised by all the crosses depicting Christ¡¯s crucifixion and other religious icons scattered around the apartment. ¡°Now Martha, I can see that you¡¯re a religious woman, and that¡¯s very nice¡­but me not so much, so I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ve forced me to help you meet your maker a bit prematurely.¡± Martha¡¯s eyes widened, and she tried to scream, but all to no avail. In one quick motion, Ivan twisted the old woman¡¯s head sideways, snapping her neck like a dried twig. Ivan gently set Martha¡¯s lifeless body down in an oversized, overstuffed chair. He carefully opened the door and searched the hallway. There was no sign of life. He picked Martha back up, quietly carried her through the door, and closed the door again with his foot. On the back hallway landing, between the second and third floors, he gently placed her head face down and her feet on the stair treads above her head. It was perfect. Satisfied, he then headed for the rear exit. As he left the building and moved down the alley, he sighed, ¡°Pity that accidents can happen when you¡¯re old. You just never know when your time is up.¡± ***** Peter Chakinski was born into a Communist State within the Eastern Bloc. But after the "Velvet Revolution" in 1989, Czechoslovakia returned to a liberal democracy. Peter had very few people skills; however he was blessed with a brilliant mind. He was relatively short, standing at five feet six inches, with a slight build; he wasn''t exactly a lady''s man. He looked like a young Albert Einstein with long, wavy dark, brown hair, and a receding hairline. With a Ph.D. in chemistry and physics from Lancaster College in the U.K., he published his college thesis online, "Oil, The 800-pound gorilla on the back of the world." Immediately after and before he even graduated, he received job offers from many alternative energy companies in the U.S. and Europe. Unfortunately, his thesis also caught the attention of Sheik Mohammed Bin Abdullah Al Ali, who saw him as a major threat to his vision. Peter had unwittingly made an enemy that would watch him very closely. Peter¡¯s field of expertise was Photovoltaics. He applied for a grant at UNYP and received an award based on his thesis. While the average efficiency of solar panels using multicrystalline silicon wafers was in the range of fifteen to eighteen percent and with a life span of twenty-five to thirty years. Peter¡¯s theory and design was exponentially higher. With an efficiency of seventy-five to eighty-five percent and with proper maintenance, a life span of fifty to seventy-five years or higher. The design used a liquid, closed-loop, slow-flowing grid system with two separate layers to form a PN Junction and a monitoring system that added doping when needed. It was also estimated to cost one-third to manufacture vs silicon wafers. This had Al Ali terrified. If Chakinski¡¯s theories hold true, the oil demand would plummet. And his hopes of a worldwide Islamic Calafate would collapse. He tried to infiltrate his research facility with spies of both genders. However, Peter rejected them all, much to Ali¡¯s displeasure. The obvious choice was a woman, yet he rejected both the beautiful and the plain. He was beginning to think that Peter was gay. But the truth was much more straightforward. Peter was simply shy around women and didn¡¯t want the distraction. With no one on the inside, Ivan and his partner Dmitri were called in to spy on Dr. Chakinski. These two were not his first choice, but given the fact that they were Russian and would not draw attention in Prague, they would have to do. Dmitri was the computer genius who could hack into almost any computer system, and Ivan was the muscle. The only problem with Dmitri was that he loved the money that Al Ali offered him but was a coward when it came to fieldwork. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Al Ali had no intention of using any new technology that he acquired, at least not until the oil ran out. His only intent was to steal the research material and file for patent rights before the rightful owners did. Through the Ishmael Group, which was just an untraceable shell corporation, Al Ali owned several research facilities in the U.S. and other countries that were only research fronts. Once any new technology was stolen, one of his research facilities would file for patent protection. Like Alexander Gramm Bell and his historic long battle over the invention of the telephone, they would fight the rightful owners in court, oftentimes for years if need be. But with billions of oil dollars at his disposal, Al Ali could retain the best law firms that money could buy, and the fights were often genuinely one-sided. ***** A short time after his thesis was published; President Roberts sent a special team to pay the young scientist a visit in an effort to make him an offer. Peter listened to their proposal with keen interest. Before their visit, Peter had been very na?ve about the world of big business and industrial espionage, even though some of his college professors mentioned it. All he was concerned with was pure research and nothing more. Peter loved his country, but moving to America had a certain allure. His parents had both died in a small plane crash while he was still in college. They were both college professors at The University of New York in Prague and were traveling to Switzerland for a seminar when their plane went down in bad weather. Their original pilot arrived at the airport on time but had stopped at a pub for a few glasses of ¡°Pivo¡± before the flight. To their demise, he was replaced by a young pilot who had just received his instrument rating. Many said the seasoned pilot could have flown the aircraft better drunk than the sober young pilot who crashed. The twenty-eight-year-old man with two doctorates had few relatives and fewer friends in Prague. His confinement to the research facility was the only thing holding him back from taking the President''s offer. He loved his freedom, and the thought of being confined in any way did not sit well with him. He politely turned down the President''s offer, and with his connections at the UNYP, Peter applied for and received a grant to fund his own research on alternative energy. However, after he turned down the President''s offer, he was extensively schooled by his representative on how to keep his secrets safe from the unseen powers that would try and steal his research. Thus, Peter was no longer na?ve about the evils that lurked in the world and the ruthless men who would do anything to protect their interests. Or at least he thought he was. In a newly built, highly secure facility on the University Campus, Peter conducted his research with a small staff of paid employees and a few student volunteers he screened personally. The only way to enter the research lab was with a retina scan identification and access password, which Peter routinely changed randomly. All chemical analysis and lab test results were entered personally by Peter into an encrypted database. No outside internet access, cell phones, or cameras were allowed in the test lab, and all data was transferred to a hard drive and backup storage device in a secure vault at the end of each day. Until he had a substantial breakthrough, this would have to do. It wasn''t as secure as Lawrence Livermore, but with limited funds, it wasn''t bad. Peter parked his old BMW 318i on the street and walked to his apartment. It was a cool evening, and the streets were wet from a quick passing thunderstorm. He was tired from the long day of research, testing, and paperwork. He just wanted to take a long hot bath with a glass of wine and then get a few hours of sleep before the routine started all over again. He entered his apartment through the front door and climbed the front stairs to the third floor. As he was passing Martha¡¯s door, he noticed that it wasn¡¯t closed all the way. At first, he was bewildered but quickly became very concerned. He gently knocked on her door. He knew she retired early and would never leave her door open for any reason. He knocked harder and eased the door open when he got no answer. "Martha, it''s Peter; are you alright?" When he got no reply, he entered her apartment and said a bit louder, "Martha, are you alright?" Still, he got no answer. He went through the small apartment but found no sign of the old woman. Nothing seemed to be out of place. Then Peter noticed what appeared to be a damp spot on Martha''s chair where she watched TV. Peter knew that Martha was meticulous and would clean up any spill she made. Peter walked over to the chair and looked at the wet spot. He thought tea, perhaps, until he decided against her drinking tea at this late hour. Puzzled, he bent down and took a quick sniff. The pungent odor of urine caused him to retreat abruptly. Peter now made his way back to the bathroom and rechecked it. Perhaps she hit her head on the tub cleaning herself up after her accident. No Martha. Peter took out his cell phone and was going to call the super when he found that the battery was dead. This was not unusual because he often forgot to charge it even though he was the only one allowed a cell phone in the lab. However, he knew the manager''s number, picked up Martha''s landline, and called him. It was answered after three rings. "Petrov, this is Peter. Martha''s door was open when I came home a few minutes ago, and she''s not in her apartment. Do you know where she is?" Peter asked with evident concern in his voice. "No, I don''t¡­ maybe she went out to buy something?" "I''ve never known her to go out at this time of night. Why don''t you come up? It looks like she was here not long ago because there is a wet stain on her chair. I''ll be in my apartment. Just knock when you come up." Petrov said he would be up in a few minutes and ended the call. Fifteen minutes later, Petrov came up the back staircase and found his missing tenant. ¡°Sweet Mother of God,¡± he said as he crossed himself. After Peter finished talking with his apartment manager, he left Martha¡¯s apartment and walked across and down the hall. He inserted his key into the deadbolt, unlocked it, and entered his private sanctuary. Peter used the bathroom, then went to his small refrigerator and poured himself a glass of German Riesling. He took a sip and looked around the small four-room apartment. Nothing looked out of place, yet he had a strange feeling something was different. Maybe it was just Martha¡¯s disappearance that had him upset. She was like a grandmother to him. She would often bake him bread and bring him food, then remind him that he was single and needed a woman to take care of him. ¡°Peter, you don¡¯t eat enough; all you do is work. When are you going to find a nice girl and get married and have children?¡± Now Peter was worried that something might have happened to her. It was not like her to go off and not tell a soul where she was going. It was not like her at all! As he did every night after coming home, Peter opened his Toshiba laptop, entered his password, and logged on. He intended to update his daily log, which was separate from his research log. When his computer was fully up, he noticed the red flashing icon on the self-installed security system that indicated that he had an intrusion. If anyone had entered his apartment, the motion sensors would activate the hidden cameras and record the event. Normally, he would have received a notice on his cell phone, but that didn¡¯t happen because of his oversight. He took out his cell phone and plugged it into the charger. Still tethered to the charging cord, he powered the phone up and looked at the screen. He wasn¡¯t surprised that he had several voice messages from unanswered calls. He often muted his cell and let the caller leave a message simply because he was too busy to answer any calls. He scrolled down the call log until he found the number he was looking for. Martha had called about two hours ago. She didn¡¯t leave a message. He took another sip of wine and leaned back in his chair to gather his thoughts. Peter wasn¡¯t concerned about the intrusion. Petrov was supposed to fix his leaking sink, although that was a few days ago, and Petrov wasn¡¯t the fastest person in the world. But when he pulled up the video on his laptop, he was shocked to see someone other than the building manager had entered his apartment. The camera lenses were very small and expensive, and the detail was sharp and extraordinary. The man was big and looked like he could rip a man Peter¡¯s size in two. The man looked dark and evil. His greasy, long black hair and scared face terrified Peter. Yet, as large as the man was, he still moved like a cat. Peter had never seen the man before. He put his hand up to his mouth and sat in stunned silence as he watched him move through his apartment. The man came in and closed the door quietly. After he entered, he just stood a couple of feet past the door and looked around. He took in everything, and then the man walked to his desk. Peter could see that he had on latex gloves. He watched as the man opened his laptop and stared at the screen. Then, the intruder plugged in what looked like a flash drive into the side of the computer and made a cell phone call. When he pulled it out a minute later, Peter sat back and ran his hands through his long, curly hair all the time, keeping his eyes on the screen. Peter peered at the screen in amazement as the intruder went through his apartment with military precision. At one point, his face was only inches from one of the tiny camera lenses. He involuntarily pushed himself back from the computer screen at the sight of the man¡¯s face looking straight at him. He then watched as the man placed something on the ceiling, then he took out his cell phone again and made a call. As the man was talking, he sat down at his desk and moved his hands over the keyboard as Peter watched with fascination. He seemed satisfied because he put his cell phone away, closed the laptop, and quietly left his apartment. After Peter finished watching the video, he stood on shaky legs. He looked at the ceiling, knowing that the man in the video most assuredly had something to do with Martha¡¯s disappearance, but what frightened him more was the fact that he was probably watching him at that very moment. The surreal experience left Peter dumbstruck, and he began to tremble. He finally composed himself and placed his chair over the smoke detector. He stepped up, twisted it off the ceiling, and opened the case. Inside, he found the small device. He pulled it out, turned it over in his hand, and then placed it in his pocket. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door that sent a jolt of electricity surging through his body. Peter jumped involuntarily, almost falling off his chair. He was relieved when he heard the accompanying voice a few seconds later. "Peter, Peter, it''s Petrov. Open the door." He immediately opened the door and was greeted by Petrov, whose face was ashen. "What is it, Petrov?" Peter asked with concern. "I found Martha¡­ and I think she''s dead, Peter," Petrov said with a shaky voice. Peter felt another blow hit him. "Where is she?" Petrov turned and pointed, "She''s in the back staircase. I think she may have had a heart attack and fell." Peter rushed to the stairway and looked down at the body of his elderly neighbor lying face down on the next landing. He took the steps two at a time. Reaching the landing, Peter bent down and turned the elderly woman over. He put his ear next to Martha''s mouth. Nothing! Next, he placed his fingers on her neck and checked for a pulse. Nothing! Peter didn''t need a medical examiner to tell him that Martha was dead. The woman was lifeless and starting to get cold. He sat down on the stair tread and let out a long sigh. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re right, Petrov; Martha is dead. Did you call the police yet?¡± ¡°No, I came right to your door after I found her.¡± ¡°Call the police, Petrov, and tell them to hurry. I think someone killed her and tried to make it look like an accident.¡± ¡°What! Are you serious? Who would want to hurt Martha?¡± Petrov said with some indignation. ¡°The same person that broke into my apartment just before I got home tonight, that¡¯s who,¡± Peter whispered. Petrov looked at Peter with a bewildered look but decided not to question him. He took out his cell phone and punched 112, the emergency number for most of the European Union. Chapter 38 Chapter 38 A hundred yards from the front entrance of Peter¡¯s apartment building, Ivan and his partner were sitting in the back cargo area of a Mercedes Benz Sprinter, watching the live feed from Peter¡¯s apartment. At first, Ivan was elated when he watched Peter log on to his laptop. They now had his password and could return later, access his files, and remove the camera. They suspected that Peter wouldn¡¯t have any of his research on his personal computer, but they hoped to find his access code to his research facility. But when Peter opened the video of the intruder searching through his apartment, Ivan just sat with his mouth open and his eyes wide in disbelief. They watched as Peter involuntarily jerked back at the sight of Ivan¡¯s face on his computer screen and the shock and horror on his face when he looked up at the ceiling where Ivan had placed the camera. ¡°Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, that fucking bastard had his place loaded with cameras, and I didn¡¯t even see them,¡± Ivan screamed as he slammed his fist into the side of the van. Dmitri said sheepishly, ¡°The police are going to know that you killed that old woman.¡± Ivan turned, and his anger rose at his companion¡¯s remark. ¡°Don¡¯t you think I know that you fucking moron?¡± Ivan knew that virtually no one used the back staircase, and the chances that someone had already found Martha¡¯s body were remote. They had been monitoring the police scanners, and there had been no reports of her death. But now Ivan had a much bigger problem. He needed to get Peter¡¯s laptop, or there would soon be a manhunt out for him. If that happened, his employer would not be happy. Ivan looked at the idiot next to him and said, ¡°I want you to keep this little problem to yourself.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the boss, but I was just thinking maybe we should call and let them tell us what to do,¡± Dimitri said sheepishly. ¡°Who the fuck told you to think?¡± Ivan snapped. ¡°Just keep your mouth shut and do what I tell you. You got that?¡± ¡°No problem. Just tell me what I should do.¡± He replied, bowing to Ivan¡¯s demands. But he was trying to figure out how to inform their employer about this little problem without Ivan¡¯s knowledge. He wasn¡¯t going down with old Ivan. No way in hell. Ivan lowered his head, put his elbows on his thighs, and ran his fingers through his long black hair, thinking of his next move. ¡°I¡¯m going to pay Dr. Chakinski a little visit.¡± After another long sigh, Ivan said, ¡°Now I wish I hadn¡¯t killed the old bitch.¡± ¡°That makes two of us,¡± Dmitri said nervously. Ivan opened the side door of the Mercedes and said, ¡°Drive the van around to the end of the alley and wait there. If you see the police or hear any sirens, return to this spot and wait for me. You got that?¡± ¡°Yeah, I got it.¡± ¡°And stay off your fuckin phone, I want your cell open if I have to call you.¡± He nodded and slipped the van into gear after Ivan closed the side door. Dmitri hated the condescending prick, but he had no choice but to obey his orders. ***** Ivan stepped out of the van and into the cool night air and fought the urge to run. He was furious that the little bastard had outfoxed him and angry with himself for not seeing the cameras. If the police got a hold of the video, he would be screwed. He passed two lovers on the opposite side of the street that paid little attention to him, nor did the few cars that passed him on the street. He moved down the rain-soaked sidewalk until he came to the front entrance of Peter¡¯s apartment. Time was of the essence. He had to get the laptop and take care of Dr. Chakinski before the old woman¡¯s body was discovered. He pulled out his lock-pick gun and had the door open in seconds. He quickly moved down the first-floor hall to the back stairs, then stopped and listened intently before starting up. When he hit the second-floor landing, he thought he heard voices and someone moving up on the next floor. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. No matter how quietly Ivan tried to move up the back staircase, the old, creaky stair treads gave him away. ***** ¡°Someone¡¯s coming up the staircase. Did you tell anyone you were looking for Martha?¡± Peter whispered to Petrov. Petrov just shook his head from side to side with a puzzled look. Petrov¡¯s wife had died several years ago, and he lived alone with only his tabby cat to keep him company. Immediately, Peter knew that this was not good. No one used the back staircase at this hour of the day. Whoever was watching the camera that was placed in his apartment had probably seen him looking at the video clip and wasn¡¯t happy with what he had just witnessed. Peter put his finger across his lips, grabbed Petrov by the shirt, and pulled the elderly man up the staircase. ¡°Be very quiet and follow me.¡± When they reached Peter¡¯s door, Peter said, ¡°I¡¯m going to grab my laptop. I want you to go into Martha¡¯s apartment and wait for me. And keep the door slightly open. I will join you as fast as I can.¡± ¡°What if the person gets to this floor before you come back?¡± Petrov said with fear in his voice. ¡°Then shut the door quietly and hide,¡± Peter said as he looked into the face of the frightened man, and then slipped into his apartment. Peter grabbed his laptop and peered into the hall before stepping out and shutting the door, making as little sound as possible. He hastily reached Martha¡¯s door, where Petrov was waiting. Before Peter entered her apartment, he took a quick peek down the end of the hall. His heart started to race when he saw the top of a man¡¯s head just start to appear. Whoever it was, he made no sound as he passed Martha¡¯s lifeless body, which only confirmed Peter¡¯s fears. Peter pulled the door shut and turned to Petrov, who looked very worried. ¡°I think Martha¡¯s killer has returned, and he¡¯s coming this way.¡± ***** Ivan crept up the stairs until he reached the old woman¡¯s body. It didn¡¯t appear that anyone had discovered her yet. He stepped over her and slowly climbed the remaining stairs to the top floor. The hallway was deserted and only illuminated by three small lights. Ivan had no idea what the scientist had done after discovering the intrusion, although he was sure he would have called the police. He only hoped the police would respond slowly and that Chakinski was still in his apartment. Ivan quickly approached Peter''s door. He was not surprised to see that it was shut. With his camera now disabled, he had no way of knowing where Chakinski was. He grabbed the doorknob and put just enough force to turn the knob ever so slightly. Surprisingly, it wasn''t locked, and he saw no light coming from under the door. He let the doorknob return to its original position and stepped backward. He pulled out his 9mm Beretta 92 from his shoulder holster, reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out its silencer. He then glanced down the hall in both directions as he screwed the silencer into the threaded barrel. He stepped forward again, turned the doorknob, and pushed the door in very slowly with his foot while keeping the gun in front of him with both hands. The low lights were still on, but there was no sign of Chakinski. Ivan glanced at the desk and was dismayed when he saw that his laptop was gone. He quickly searched the rest of the small apartment and found no sign of the man. He took out his cell phone and called Dmitri, who picked up on the second ring. "Where are you now?" Ivan said in a gruff voice. ¡°I¡¯m at the end of the alley like you told me.¡± ¡°Have you seen anyone come or go?¡± ¡°Nothing except a stray dog and a drunken old man.¡± ¡°Just stay where you are and keep your eyes open for the police.¡± ¡°Where the hell did you go, Chakinski?¡± Ivan said in a low whisper. He knew he hadn¡¯t come out the front door because he had come in that way. He might have slipped out the back door before Dmitri got to his position. However, that wasn¡¯t likely. Was it possible that he had discovered Martha¡¯s body after he viewed the video and then heard someone coming up the back steps? Where would he go? Down the front staircase while he was coming up the back or maybe into Martha¡¯s apartment? There was only one way to find out! Ivan slowly opened the door and looked into the hallway. No one! He walked quietly to Martha¡¯s door and turned the door knob. It was open as it should have been. Keeping the silenced Beretta in front of him, he again pushed the door open with his foot and entered the room. The room looked just the same. A reading lamp was on over Martha¡¯s comfortable chair. The kitchen light was on, as was a small nightlight in her bathroom. Nothing appeared to be different. Ivan worked his way through Martha¡¯s apartment, checking every possible hiding place. He started with the living room and front closet, and then moved to the bathroom and kitchen. He found nothing. The last place to look was Martha¡¯s bedroom. The door was open with no light on inside. He found the light switch and turned it on. The low-wattage overhead light eliminated the small room but with little intensity. He turned on his flashlight and shined it under the twin bed. No one was there; ¡°Only in the fuckin movies,¡± he whispered to himself. The only place left to search was the closet. Chapter 39 Chapter 39 The closet wasn¡¯t deep, although it was fairly long. Peter went to one end and Petrov the other. He was surrounded by Martha¡¯s dresses, sweaters, shoes, boxes, knitting bags, and other items he could only guess the nature of. Peter could see the terror in the old man¡¯s face when he told him to keep absolutely still and not make a sound. His heart was racing out of control, and he only hoped that it would settle down and not give them away. Suddenly, Peter was startled when he felt something move against one of his legs. He almost jumped out of his skin, but then he heard Martha¡¯s cat start to purr. It must have followed them into the closet without them noticing. The damn cat was going to get them killed, he thought. At first, Peter thought they might escape the killer, but then Martha¡¯s door opened, and he knew that wouldn¡¯t be the case. He could hear the man moving through the apartment, and Peter was surprised at how quiet he was for a big man. Finally, the door to Martha¡¯s bedroom opened with a slight creek, and Peter could hear the man¡¯s soft footfalls enter the room. Then he heard the man say something about ¡°only in the fuckin movies,¡± which he thought was very odd. Then he could tell that the killer was at the closet door as his shadow blocked the light coming in under it. Apparently, their time had arrived. Then suddenly, Peter heard a cell phone vibrate, and he held his breath. He just hoped it wasn¡¯t Petrov¡¯s. ***** Ivan reached for the closet door that was only slightly open, and just as he touched it, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. The intensity of the moment startled him, and it shot a jolt of electricity through his body. ¡°Shit¡± Ivan stepped back from the doorknob as if it were alive and had just given him a shock. He stuck the flashlight into his jacket pocket, dug out his cell phone, and looked at the caller ID. It was Dmitri. ¡°What?¡± Ivan asked. ¡°The fucking police just passed the end of the alley with their lights flashing on. When they went by, I pulled around to the front of the street, and they stopped in front of Chakinski¡¯s building. A minute later, an ambulance pulled up next to them. What the fuck do you want me to do?¡± ¡°Get your ass to the back door and wait for me with the side door open. But if you see any cops back there, you call me right away. You got that?¡± ¡°Yeah, no problem.¡± ¡°And keep the fucking van running.¡± Ivan kept the cell phone in his hand and immediately started to leave Martha¡¯s small apartment. He had only taken several steps when he pivoted and looked back at the closet door. Ivan knew he should leave the building, but something pulled at him. He stepped back in front of the closet door again and opened it. The closet was draped in just enough light to see dresses hanging across a rod anchored on either end of the closet. He was about to close the door when he heard something from inside. Ivan brought his Beretta up and started to pull back the dresses on one end when a black cat let out a loud screech and ran through his legs. ¡°Fuck¡± Ivan said as he slammed the closet door shut. He stood there for a moment, and then opened the closet door again. He pulled back the clothes from the far end of the closet and was surprised to see a pair of eyes staring back at him. "Mr. Chakinski, it''s so nice to see you. Please come out; it must be very uncomfortable in there." But it wasn''t Peter, it was Petrov. Ivan pointed the Beretta at his chest, and with his other hand, he shined his flashlight into the face of the man standing at the end of the closet. A puzzled look came over Ivan''s face, and he said more to himself than to Petrov, "Who the fuck are you?" ***** Ivan sensed something was wrong before he felt the other person behind him. He spun around and caught motion directly in front of his eyes. Instantly, he was hit in the face by a force that didn¡¯t physically knock him down, but it took him to his knees just the same. Someone had sprayed a chemical into his eyes and mouth that burned like the fires of hell. Instinctively, he got off three shots from the Beretta before his hands flew to his face. He heard someone groan on one or two of his shots. He then dropped his gun and flashlight and tried in vain to rub the liquid from his eyes; however, this just inflected more pain. He couldn¡¯t see anything, and he couldn¡¯t catch his breath. Then, he was knocked backward by someone leaving the closet. Frantically, he started to search for his gun but found only shoes. A few seconds later, his fingers found the gun¡¯s silencer. ¡°You bastard, I¡¯m going to kill you and everyone you fuckin know,¡± Ivan screamed. But his words fell on deaf ears. Petrov was already out the door, and Peter was in shock from the two bullets that had hit his body. ***** Ivan had to get out of the building, and he had to get out fast. But first, he had to find Chakinski''s laptop. He groped in the closet and found the limp body of a man who was covered in blood. There was no laptop. He wasn''t afraid of a firefight with the police, but being half blind, he would be at a complete disadvantage. He finally stood, tucked the Beretta into his pants, and tried to remember where the kitchen was. He assumed that Chakinski was the other man in the closet and that his friend had fled after his close call with the grim Reaper. He was pretty sure that he had killed Chakinski. For a second, he thought about putting a final bullet into the man¡¯s head; however, time was of the essence. Ivan moved along the wall until he reached the bedroom door, then blindly to where he thought the kitchen was. He heard no one or felt no presence in the apartment. Ivan finally found the kitchen and then the sink. He washed his eyes with water for what seemed like an eternity, yet it was only several seconds. The water flushed out most of the chemicals for his eyes, and his sight returned just enough to see blurred images. Soaking a dish towel with water, he placed it on his eyes and tried to find the exit. ***** Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Ivan had killed many men by a variety of means. Guns, knives, garrote, some he had bludgeoned to death with clubs or tire irons, and still others he had just beaten to death with his fists. Big or small, it didn¡¯t matter. He could see well enough now to find the door leading to the hallway. It was open, and he could hear men shouting from the floors below. He couldn¡¯t go down now. He had to go to the roof and escape over the rooftops. Ivan was halfway to the back staircase when a loud voice boomed from behind him. ¡°Police, stop, or I will shoot.¡± He turned and saw the fuzzy figure of a man coming at him. Ivan lifted his Beretta and fired several shots at the shadowy figure. He changed his escape plan and charged down the back staircase, hoping not to find any police waiting for him. He also hoped that Dmitri was where he was supposed to be. But when he reached the staircase, something went wrong. He didn¡¯t hear the gunshots, but he felt the sting, one and then another. His mind registered what was happening to him, but he didn¡¯t feel any pain, or at least not the sort of pain he expected to feel. This was not supposed to happen. This was an easy assignment. This guy was just a scientist, not a mobster or hired thug. Ivan fell down the staircase and landed face-to-face with Martha. He tried to get up, but his arms and legs wouldn¡¯t follow his orders. Ivan stared into the open dead eyes of the old woman, and it appeared in his blurred vision that she was smiling at him. He smiled back, and then his body finally started to move again. ¡°Sorry, Martha,¡± was all he could say as he made his way down the back staircase, bleeding from a hole and a gash along his side. ***** Peter saw the killer turn, and he was ready. He had some fabric from a dress or blouse over his mouth as he shoved the small canister into the killer''s face and pushed the nozzle down, releasing its contents. As he did, he saw the gun turn toward him, and the narrow closet proved too small to evade the inevitable. Ivan was shooting blind, so he sprayed his shots, hoping to hit something. The first bullet missed its mark; however, the second and third did not. He let out a groan as the slugs tore his body apart. The second burrowed a large gash in Peter''s upper left shoulder, and the third hit something more vital. The slug passed through his lower right lung and exited out his back, shattering one rib as it made its quick journey through bone and soft tissue before finally embedding into the solid plaster wall behind him. At one point, he thought the killer was going to empty the remaining clip into him as well, but instead, he heard the gun drop to the floor, and the killer fell to his knees, crying out in agony from the chemical in his eyes and lungs. Peter then slumped to the floor and waited to die. ***** Ivan stumbled down the back staircase. On the way, he heard other shouts to stop, but he encountered no other police and kept going. He had taken a round in the left shoulder and one that grazed his right hip, leaving a gash that was spewing blood down his pant leg. He burst through the back door and into the cool night air, looking for Dmitri and the van. To his utter surprise, he was parked across the alley, waiting with the side door open. He descended the back steps and limped to the waiting vehicle as fast as he could. Just as he was about to get in the van, a man stepped out from around the backside. He was taking his dog out one last time before retiring for the evening. ***** The elderly gentleman stopped in his tracks at the sight of the man before him. His face was beet red, his eyes were swollen, and his shirt was covered in blood, as were his pants on one side. The hair on the dog''s back rose up, and he started to growl at what he perceived was a threat to his owner. Then he saw the gun at the man''s side, and his face registered the danger he was in. Ivan didn''t hesitate. He raised his pistol and shot the dog in the head, then its owner, who stood petrified and unable to move. Ivan then looked up and down the alley before getting into the van. Dmitri turned to look into the back of the van, where his wounded partner was covered in blood and was pouring water into his eyes from a water bottle left on the seat. "What happen to you?" Dmitri asked with an expression of surprise. Ivan pointed his Beretta at Dmitri¡¯s forehead and screamed, ¡°Get the fuck out of here, you fucking idiot¡­and I mean right fucking now before I put a bullet through that empty fucking head of yours.¡± Dmitri didn¡¯t say another word. He just turned around quickly and hit the gas. The van sped down the alley and into the street. Dimitri hoped he wouldn¡¯t receive a slug in the back of his head once they were clear of the police. After traveling a few blocks, he asked, ¡°Do you need a doctor?¡± ¡°Of course, I need a fucking doctor, you dumb fuck. Drive to the farm in Klecany. It¡¯s marked in the navigation system. I assume you know how to read it.¡± Dimitri just drove. He didn¡¯t have the nerve to answer him. After they cleared the alley without being pursued, Ivan took out a flashlight from one of his bags and looked at the torn flesh on his right hip. Luckily, the bullet didn¡¯t hit bone, but it hurt much more than his shoulder, which was now numb. ¡°Where¡¯s the vodka that was back here? Ivan asked in a tone that made Dmitri even more nervous. Dmitri didn¡¯t reply. He simply passed the bottle into the back seat with a third of its contents missing. Ivan grabbed the bottle from his hand and stared at the back of Dmitri¡¯s head, contemplating whether to kill him that instant. He was too tired for the inconvenience, so he opened the bottle and took a long drink. The clear liquid slid down his throat and calmed him almost instantly. Ivan washed down several painkillers with the rest of the bottle in the next two miles. The pain had subsided, but he was feeling faint from the mixture of alcohol, pain pills, and blood loss. Six miles later, they pulled off the main highway onto a dirt road leading to an old farmhouse and a safe haven for the night. ***** The tail lights of the Mercedes van had just cleared the alley when the police discovered the body of the old gentleman and his faithful companion while Petrov led the police to the closet where he escaped from certain death. Peter wasn¡¯t conscious, and his breathing was very shallow and erratic, but he was alive. The paramedics worked fast. They transferred him onto a gurney and inserted an IV drip into his forearm before he was wheeled out to a waiting ambulance. A Prague policeman was also inside the ambulance with a non-life-threatening gunshot wound to his upper thigh. Petrov stayed at Peter¡¯s side the whole time, praying that he wouldn¡¯t die. The once quiet street was now filled with sirens and flashing lights, as other police cars arrived on the scene. Peter was a very fortunate man. He was in surgery for three hours to repair the damage done by the 9mm slugs. Petrov had recovered Peter¡¯s laptop that was on the floor of the closet and gave it to the police, stating that the killer was after something on the computer. Investigators interviewed Petrov for hours, going over every detail of the events that night that took the lives of two people and the wounding of two more. Petrov wasn¡¯t able to give the police any description of the killer because of the flashlight in his face. Fingerprints were removed from the door knobs of both Martha¡¯s and Peter¡¯s apartment, and DNA samples were taken from the blood found in the back stairway and on Martha¡¯s clothing that belonged to the killer. After going over all the events of that night, several things still puzzled the police and remained a mystery. It appeared that Dr. Chakinski was the only person who could clear things up, and he wasn¡¯t able to talk just yet. Chapter 40 Chapter 40 The flaps of the LearJet 60 were fully extended as it passed over the Vltava River just before landing on runway 13-31 at Prague Ruzyn¨§ International Airport. Ken Jackson looked out his window at the silvery-blue river with its many bridges and islands as it snaked through the old city. He was a large black man in his mid-forties who had done three tours as a Navy Seal in Iraq and two in Afghanistan before joining the private contracting firm, which he and the only other man on the flight were a part of. Jackson had just finished an extremely difficult and successful mission in the Horn of Africa and looking forward to a much easier assignment. The big man looked over at his sleeping companion and thought about waking him, but he figured he deserved every minute of sleep he could get. The private jet made a very soft landing and was taxied to the original airport structures, now terminal 4, reserved exclusively for VIPs and State Dignitaries. After the wheel chocks were set in place, the pilot powered down the twin Pratt and Whitney engines and entered the flight record into his log. ***** Jackson finally woke his companion, and after gathering their gear, they disembarked the plane and made their way to a black Mercedes Benz limousine waiting for their arrival. They were then escorted by motorcade to a nondescript red stone building that housed the Prague police department headquarters. They were greeted there by Captain Gorvin, a no-nonsense man who worked his way up the ranks by being fair and tough. Jackson couldn¡¯t help but notice the scars on the Captain¡¯s face. He guessed that the man was in his mid-fifties, although it was hard to tell because he looked like he had a hard life. Gorvin looked at the two men in front of him, and knowing their thoughts, he said, ¡°Drug dealers tried to do some cosmetic surgery on my face. It didn¡¯t turn out too well for me or for them.¡± He said with a chuckle. Jackson noted that the Captain¡¯s English was excellent, although he had an obvious Czech accent. ¡°Drug dealers can be some very nasty fellows,¡± Jackson said with a knowing nod. Captain Gorvin briefed them on the developments of the last 24 hours, starting with the killings and gun battle that ensued with police at Dr. Chakinski¡¯s apartment. It seems that the killer or killers had escaped in a dark-colored Mercedes Van that had yet to be found. ¡°Thanks to Dr. Chakinski¡¯s surveillance video, we believe we have tentatively identified the killer as a Russian National with a long criminal record. His name is Ivan Rakov, and his resume is quite extensive. He has a long list of unsavory trades, including extortion, drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, and white slavery, but first and foremost, he¡¯s a hired killer. He¡¯s killed at least twelve people that we know of, so the list is probably two to three times that. His mother was a prostitute and drug addict, and from what we can tell, she either abandoned him on the streets of Moscow or he just walked away from her. He killed his first man at the tender age of twelve. Ivan stabbed him in the neck for a few rubles and a bottle of vodka. He was sent to the infamous boy¡¯s prison camp at Bashkortostan, where he spent the next ten years in that disease-infested shit hole with hundreds of other boys. After his release, Rakov took up with the Russian mob as an enforcer and hired killer. Despite his lack of formal schooling, he¡¯s very intelligent and cunning. I¡¯ve been told that he¡¯s vowed to never see the inside of a prison again.¡± Jackson was aware of all of this because he had read Rakov¡¯s file on the plane, yet he listened politely because he thought he might just learn something that wasn¡¯t in his brief. He didn¡¯t. In fact, his report was much more thorough. ***** After Jackson and his companion checked into their perspective rooms at an upscale hotel in the heart of the city, they were driven to the hospital where Dr. Chakinski was recovering. Upon arriving, they were briefed on his condition by Dr. Bilovsky, the head surgeon. He informed them that his patient was no longer in danger and his prognosis for a full recovery looked very good, thanks to the paramedics who arrived quickly at the scene. He requested that he keep his visit short. They were escorted by a slightly overweight young nurse to a private room in a secure area of the hospital. As they approached the room, they noted that his room was guarded by a very competent-looking policeman who asked for their credentials even though Captain Gorvin radioed that they were coming. After showing the officers their IDs and a nod by the nurse, they were permitted to enter. The lead man was surprised to see Dr. Chakinski sitting in bed. He appeared to be in excellent health, but as he got closer, he could see the man was pale and looked tired and weak. ¡°Hello, Dr. Chakinski; my name is Jesse Taylor, and this is my associate, Ken Jackson. I¡¯m a private contractor working for the United States Government. I understand that you speak English very well and that you had a little chat with President Roberts today.¡± Chakinski eyed the handsome older gentleman. He had, in fact, received a call from the President wishing him a speedy recovery, and he mentioned that he was sending someone to Prague to speak with him about his previous offer. Chakinski didn¡¯t object. Just a few hours later, this man was standing before him with a warm smile. ¡°Yes, I did have the pleasure of speaking with your President today. It was very nice of him to call and wish me well. And please call me Peter. Dr. Chakinski is a little too formal.¡± Jesse nodded and asked, ¡° How are you feeling, Peter?¡± ¡°Very tired, and I can¡¯t tell exactly how I feel with all of the painkillers that they¡¯ve pumped into me.¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s understandable. I¡¯m told that you¡¯re very lucky to be alive. I was also told that you did a courageous thing.¡± ¡°So they tell me. But I wouldn¡¯t call it brave.¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Jesse nodded without commenting further on the matter. ¡°I understand you had your apartment set up with surveillance equipment and that your cameras caught the man who shot you. I don¡¯t know how much Captain Gorvin has told you, but thanks to your surveillance video, they have identified the man who broke into your apartment. They are currently testing DNA samples for a positive match; however, that¡¯s just a formality. You and your friend were very fortunate. Thanks to your quick thinking, you escaped sure death at the hands of a very dangerous killer.¡± ¡°I was just fortunate that a can of pepper spray was on Martha¡¯s table, and I had the opportunity to use it.¡± ¡°Martha, was the elderly woman that was killed in your apartment building?¡± Peter nodded. "Yes, she lived in the apartment just down the hall from me." "Can you tell me exactly what happened that night, starting with when you arrived home?" Jesse had read the report but wanted to hear it from the horse''s mouth. Peter went through all the events that transpired from when he got home until we woke up in the hospital. When he was finished, he said very solemnly. "I''m very sorry that two people had to die because of me." Jesse understood where he was coming from and tried to put things in perspective. "I''m sorry you lost your neighbor, Peter, but unfortunately, there are evil men in this imperfect world. These people were after your research, and your neighbors were just collateral damage to them." "I understand that, Mr. Taylor; however, it doesn''t ease the pain and guilt I''m feeling right now. Martha was like a grandmother to me, and I will miss her greatly." "Well, that brings me to the reason for my visit. I hope you will reconsider President Roberts''s offer. I understand that one of the reasons that you declined his offer was because of the confinement. I''m sure that we can work on this and give you ample time away from the facility if that is the main sticking point. We can even fly you back here for visits if you like." The conversation turned to his research, and they spoke for ten minutes before Jesse heard the door open behind him. A lovely young nurse walked in and informed Jesse politely but firmly that her patient needed his rest. "I''ll just be a moment," Jesse said to her, and his smile melted her ridged demeanor. She smiled back and said, "Just one more minute," then she closed the door as she left. "Thank you for your time, Peter." Jesse came over to the side of the bed and touched his arm. "Why don''t you get some rest now, and we''ll talk some more later." "I''ll look forward to it. Thanks for coming. Please tell the President that I''m considering it." "It will be my pleasure," Jesse said softly, patting his arm lightly before leaving the room. ***** Out in the hallway, Jesse looked at his notes. Obviously, someone wanted to get their hands on his research and was sparing no expense to achieve that goal. Jesse had asked him how he kept his research records safe and who had access to them. He wasn¡¯t surprised that he was the only one with access to his records but was surprised how his files were kept safe. Jesse was just getting around to his staff and volunteers at the lab when the nurse walked in. Before he talked with Peter, Jesse believed that someone in his lab was probably a mole, but after hearing how he screened people, he couldn¡¯t be sure. ***** Later that night, Jesse returned to the police station to review a few details when his cell phone rang. He looked at the photo of his daughter on the incoming call, and a smile came to his face. ¡°Hello, sweetheart, how are you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine. Happy birthday, Daddy. Sorry, I can¡¯t be there with you today. How is everything at home?¡± Stephanie Taylor¡¯s soft voice came through crystal clear. ¡°Thank you. I¡¯m doing just fine. And no need to apologize for not coming home. I know you have a lot on your plate with finals. And how¡¯s school going these days?¡± ¡°Oh, you know, just the same boring stuff; I can¡¯t wait to finish out this year and take a long-needed break. I think my mind is being overloaded.¡± Jesse laughed and said, ¡°My dear, at your age, your mind is like a sponge; it soaks up everything. But me, on the other hand, I think my hard drive is maxed out, and my processor is old and failing.¡± Now it was Stephanie¡¯s turn to laugh, ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re ready for the scrap heap yet. And besides, I don¡¯t think you have a problem with your memory. You don¡¯t forget anything.¡± ¡°Have you heard from your brother?¡± ¡°I got an e-mail from him yesterday. He said he was going to try to call you today. One of his friends was wounded two days ago in an ambush. Thank God he wasn¡¯t hit. I worry about him a lot. You know he only has 30 days left on his tour. I can¡¯t wait to see him again.¡± ¡°Me too, sweetheart, me too!¡± ¡°Are you seeing anyone?¡± Stephanie asked. It had been three years since Jesse''s wife had died of breast cancer, and his daughter was worried about him living alone. She had set up an account for him on one of those dating sites on the internet, including his photo and brief bio, but he wouldn''t answer any of the e-mails he received because he did have his eyes on someone, a beautiful redhead with gorgeous green eyes. "Don''t you worry, you''re pretty little head about me, honey; my job keeps me very busy, as you know. Speaking of going out, are you still seeing that young man? What''s his name you brought home with you on spring break?" Stephanie was as sharp as a tack. "You know very well that his name is David, and you''re just trying to change the subject. But yes, we still see each other when we have some free time." "And?" "And what?" "And are you guys serious?" "We''re more like good friends. David is very sweet and nice but not the man I want to marry." ¡°Good.¡± ¡°What do you mean good? I thought you liked him?¡± ¡°I do like him, but he¡¯s just a little too sweet and nice.¡± They both started to laugh. Then Stephanie heard people talking in a different language in the background. ¡°Where are you, dad?¡± Jesse covered the phone and moved further into the next room. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just shopping at a Wal-Mart. You do know that it¡¯s a melting pot of ethnic diversity.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t give me that; you¡¯ve never shopped at a Wal-Mart in your entire life.¡± Stephanie knew the kind of work her dad did and that he traveled all over the world.¡± She suspected that he wasn¡¯t at home. ¡°You¡¯re too smart for your own britches, young lady. But you are right; I don¡¯t shop at Wal-Mart, and if you must know, I¡¯m the one who takes all those photos of Walmartians and posts them on the internet. I just do it as a hobby.¡± Jesse said with just a hint of melodrama as he walked over and closed the door. ¡°Oh, why do I even bother?¡± Stephanie said with a bit of anguish in her voice. ¡°Well, Daddy, I have to get going now; my ride just pulled up. You have a great day! I love you.¡± Stephanie¡¯s voice was a little sad because she missed her father. ¡°You have a good day, honey. I love you, too. Bye for now. Oh, and say a prayer for your brother.¡± ¡°I always do. Bye, Daddy, and happy birthday.¡± After his call ended, Jesse sat down on the corner of an old oak desk that hadn¡¯t seen furniture polish in thirty years and let out a long sigh. He hated to deceive his daughter, but that was just part of his life. He simply didn¡¯t want Stephanie to worry about him as well as her brother. The men she overheard were members of the Elite Swat Team of the Czech Republic Police that had just returned to the police station from a false lead on Ivan Rakov. Chapter 41 Chapter 41 It was a perfect night for two young lovers to explore the wonders of the opposite sex and first love. It was just before sunset, and the approaching night was clear, and the late summer temperature was perfect along the Vltava River. Sixteen-year-old Alexey Novak was experiencing what all men do when they first experience the marvels of a woman¡¯s body: absolute wonder and awe! He was amazed how God could create something so similar yet so amazingly different? The beautiful Annika Dvorak was just that person. Also sixteen, she had transformed from a caterpillar to an absolutely stunning butterfly in the past year. Always an attractive girl, her body seemed to transform itself overnight from a young girl into a shapely woman, and all the boys took notice. Annika¡¯s breathing was coming in rapid, shallow bursts from the exploring hands of the boy she had always loved and hoped to marry someday. Their passion was quickly extinguished when they heard someone coming up the deserted road. They peered over the tall grass as two vehicles came down the dirt road that ended at the river. Alexey¡¯s motor scooter was lying in the weeds just ten feet off the trail but was hidden in the high grass and brush. At first, they thought one of Alexey¡¯s friends had come to harass them. However, that thought quickly vanished when they saw the Mercedes van, followed by what looked like a big silver sedan, slowly drive by and stop at the river¡¯s edge. ¡°Who are they, Alexey?¡± Annika whispered. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I¡¯ve never seen those cars before.¡± From over the top of the high grass, they watched as a man exited the passenger door of the sedan and walked over to the driver¡¯s door. He had broad shoulders and was very solidly built, and one of his arms was in a sling. The sight of this man frightened Annika and sent shivers down her spine. He looked very mean. The passenger had a short conversation with the driver, and to Annika¡¯s surprise, he quickly opened the car door, pulled the smaller man out, and threw him to the ground. The second man was much older and seemed somewhat timid and frail. The larger man pulled the smaller man to his feet and shoved him toward the van. Seconds later, there was a loud argument between the two men. The older man seemed to be pleading for his life, and then suddenly he turned and started to run toward the river. To their utter disbelief, the man with the sling casually pulled a pistol from his sling and shot the fleeing man in the back of the head. There was very little noise emitted from the gun. But they knew the man was dead because the front of his head had exploded as a red mist escaped from his forehead. Annika let out a sound of sheer fright but was stopped quickly by Alexey¡¯s fast hand placed over her mouth from behind. ¡°Don¡¯t make a sound, Annika, or they¡¯ll find and kill us both,¡± Alexey whispered. ***** Ivan turned at the sound and peered into the woods and high grass. A bird flew over, screeched, and landed in a nearby tall tree. "Did you hear something?" Ivan asked Dmitri, who had just stepped out of the van. Dmitri just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head and said. "Just birds!" Ivan scanned the woods for another minute and said, "Load him into the back of the van and be quick about it." Dmitri knew the driver''s fate as soon as Ivan jacked his car after the man pulled over to help them. They needed a car, and the Good Samaritan provided it when he pulled over to assist them with their fake vehicle breakdown. He was just glad that it wasn''t an entire family because Rakov would have killed them all without remorse. With a long sigh, he grabbed the shirt collar of the man''s lifeless body and dragged him next to the van, pulled him into the back, and shut the door. "Now get behind the wheel and drive the van to the river''s edge, then we''ll push it in from there," Ivan ordered. Dmitri started the van and pulled it just to the slope of the river''s edge as ordered. He placed the van in natural and was about to exit when he sensed movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked out the driver''s window and was horrified to see the muzzle of Ivan''s gun pointed straight at his face. "Drive it into the river," Ivan said coldly. ¡°But¡­ but, Ivan¡­I can''t swim." Dmitri said in a pleading voice. Ivan laughed and said, "Then you should''ve taken lessons." A few seconds later, he stopped laughing and raised his voice. "Now put the fuckin van in gear and drive it into the river, or do you want me to ventilate your fucking head right now?" Dmitri had no doubt that he would do it, so he put the Mercedes in gear, and it started to move forward. He just hoped that he could jump out before it slipped into the river. But when the van''s rear wheels broke the slope''s apex, Ivan stepped back and put three rounds into the driver''s door. "I should''ve done that a long time ago, you dumb bastard," Ivan said with sincere hatred in his voice. The van struck the river hard, then bobbed up and down and started to drift downriver. Ivan watched with amusement as Dmitri climbed out of the driver''s window. He could see that the man was hit by at least one bullet. His left arm was covered in blood. He held onto the van as long as he could until it started to slip beneath the river''s surface; Dmitri had no choice but to attempt to swim to shore. One thing was certain: Dmitri didn''t know how to swim, and Ivan watched him flounder in the slow-moving current. Eventually, Ivan got bored with the spectacle. He held the barrel of his gun in the notch of a small sapling along the river bank and fired three shots. The first two missed the mark, but not the last one. Finally, after a few desperate attempts to stay afloat, Dmitri slipped under the surface of what now appeared to be liquid mercury in the fading light. Ivan walked over to the Toyota sedan and got behind the wheel. Invigorated, he pulled out a bottle of vodka and took a long drink. He started the car, backed it up, and swung the wheel hard to the left. As the car turned to head back out, the headlights caught a reflection off a bright object a few yards off the road. Puzzled, he stopped the car and walked over to where he had seen the reflection. In the failing light, he spotted the scooter in the tall grass. The mirror on the handlebar was sticking up just enough to catch the light from the car''s headlights. Ivan bent down and touched the motor. "Fuck¡±! It was still hot. Now, the shrill noise raced back to him. Someone was out there, and they must have witnessed what had just transpired. Looking at the motorbike, Ivan suspected it was someone very young, probably a teenager. ***** After Alexey witnessed the man shoot the man in the water, he crawled back to his motorbike and grabbed Annika¡¯s purse. They needed her cell phone to call the police. He had just gotten back to Annika when the lights from the sedan swung past them. They were surprised when the silver sedan suddenly stopped on the road. Then, to their horror, the killer got out of the car, and Alexey¡¯s heart started to race when he saw the man walk straight at his motorbike. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Annika¡¯s hand went to her mouth, and she whispered, ¡°He knows we¡¯re here, Alexey! What are we going to do?¡± ¡°We have to get away from here and call the police.¡± ¡°Follow me and be very quiet¡­ and stay low.¡± They stopped one hundred yards later, and Alexey told Annika to pull out her cell phone. Her hands shook so badly that Alexey grabbed her purse and pulled out her phone. He handed it to her, dropped her purse on the ground, and told her to unlock it. Annika did as she was told and handed it to Alexey, who quickly punched in 112. Annika started to cry as he pushed the call button. ***** Ivan had no idea who or where this person was, but he knew one thing for sure. He was probably close. Now he just had to find him in case he saw anything. He didn¡¯t want any witnesses that could identify him or the car before he got back to Mother Russia. He looked around and quickly assessed where the individual might be. He reasoned that he would be on the same side of the road as his motorbike and probably toward the river. He ran in that direction, angling slightly away from the road. After only traveling twenty yards, he spotted the wool blanket on the ground in a small clearing of short, soft grass. He was only somewhat amused to see a pair of lace underpants off to one side of the blanket. Now, the shrill noise made sense. Two young lovers were out having sex, and they saw the whole thing transpire in front of them. Ivan got down on his knees and looked in the direction where he had killed the two men. They had a perfect view. Ivan knew the girl must have made the noise. Boys don¡¯t tend to be so squeamish about killing. ***** ¡°Sargent Laska, what¡¯s your emergency?¡± ¡°A man just killed two men with a silenced pistol, and now he knows that we saw him, and he¡¯s coming after us.¡± Alexey¡¯s voice was calm despite his situation, although it contained a sense of urgency. ¡°What¡¯s your name? And where are you right now?¡± ¡°My name is Alexey Novak and I¡¯m with Annika Dvorak.¡± Alexey described the killer and told him about the Mercedes van that was driven into the river with the dead man inside and the silver sedan that the killer was now driving. ¡°What color was the van?¡± Sargent Laska wondered if it was the same Mercedes Sprinter that was involved in the killings in Prague. ¡°It was a dark blue or black.¡± ¡°Where exactly are you, Alexey?¡± ¡°We¡¯re on the east side of the river and south of Roztoky, where the large ravine comes into the river. We¡¯re heading up the north slope along the river.¡± Sargent Laska knew precisely where they were. It was an isolated area popular with young people looking to party and have sex. While Alexey was talking with the police, Annika kept a lookout for the killer. Suddenly, she saw movement through the trees. ¡°Alexey, he¡¯s coming our way fast.¡± She said too loud. ¡°I have to go; please come quick.¡± Alexey turned toward Annika. ¡°Keep quiet; you¡¯re going to get us killed. Just follow me and keep up,¡± Alexey whispered. They started to run. Alexey tried to shove the cell phone into his back pocket, but it slipped out of his hand and was knocked into the weeds by the back of his calf. He stopped suddenly, and Annika almost ran into him. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Alexey?¡± she asked with obvious concern. ¡°I dropped your phone. We have to find it.¡± They both looked for it on their hands and knees; however, it was nowhere in sight. After a short search, Alexey said, ¡°We have to leave it. Let¡¯s go!¡± Alexey knew the area like the back of his hand. He lived on a small farm not far from there, and he and his father did a lot of bird hunting in the ravines along the river. Only thirty seconds into their escape, Annika started crying again. Alexey stopped, grabbed Annika by her shoulders, shook her, and then he said in a low voice, ¡°Annika, I know you¡¯re scared, and so am I, but we need to keep very quiet. I want to get to that cave I took you to not long ago. The entrance is small, and I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll find it?¡± Annika just nodded and brushed back her tears. ¡°We can be there in a few minutes, but we must hurry.¡± ¡°I love you Alexey,¡± Annika whimpered. ¡°I love you too, Annika; now, please, we need to be quick.¡± Alexey grabbed her arm, and they started up the hill to find the cave. ***** Ivan had only fifteen minutes to find them before the sun was down. However, another event by Mother Nature was about to complicate things. It was going to rain. The winds had picked up from the north, and the skies turned much darker and unpleasant looking. In the distance, Ivan could see lightning flashes, but the report of thunder took a long time to reach his ears. He cursed his luck. Nothing was going right for him on this assignment; first, that fucking Chakinski, and now this. He slipped his left arm out of the sling and ran in the direction of a small hill that sloped down to the river; that¡¯s where he would go. He came across a game trail and followed it along the ravine and up the hill. After two minutes at a full-out run ignoring the pain on his hip, he paused to rest and listen. He didn¡¯t hear a thing, only the sound of his labored breathing from his years of smoking. He was about to turn back when he spotted movement through the brush and trees approximately forty yards further up the hill. He raised his pistol, elevated the barrel to compensate for the distance and elevation, and fired four quick shots. ***** They were only thirty yards from the small cave entrance when Annika screamed out in pain; she had been hit in her right thigh, eight inches above her knee. Alexey turned and saw Annika lying on the ground. At first, he thought that she had just stumbled, but then he saw the blood and was instantly at her side. ¡°Oh, my God,¡± was all Alexey could say when he saw the bullet hole leaking blood. He immediately took off his belt, placed it around her upper thigh, and cinched it tight. He then took off his shirt and wrapped it on the bullet wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. ¡°Leave me, Alexey. Get away before he comes,¡± Annika said barely above a whisper. ¡°I¡¯ll never leave you, Annika. I will die with you if I have to.¡± Alexey bent down and kissed her as tears ran down her face. ***** Less than a minute later, Ivan stood over them with his Beretta pointing at Alexey¡¯s chest. ¡°Why, isn¡¯t this a touching scene,¡± Ivan said mockingly. ¡°Why are you doing this to us?¡± Alexey shouted with hatred in his voice. Ivan ignored his question and asked, ¡°Did you call the police?¡± ¡°No, we don¡¯t have a phone,¡± Alexey shot back angrily. Ivan could see that the young man had no cell phone in the back pocket of his tight jeans. ¡°Get up and turn around slowly,¡± Ivan said, motioning with his pistol. Alexey complied and said, ¡°You see, I don¡¯t have a damn phone. Now leave us alone; we won¡¯t tell anyone.¡± ¡°Oh, I know you won¡¯t tell anyone,¡± Ivan said with a sneer. Alexey knelt down and returned to his girlfriend¡¯s side. When he looked back up, Ivan whipped his pistol to the side and brought it down across the side of Alexy¡¯s head. Annika screamed, ¡°Leave us alone; we¡¯ve done nothing to you.¡± ¡°That is true, but unfortunately, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed something that you shouldn¡¯t have seen. Now you¡¯ve left me with no choice. I¡¯m going to ask you just one more time. Did you call the police?¡± Blood was streaming down the side of Alexey¡¯s face from a gash opened up just above his left eye. "No, I told you we don''t have a cell phone." Alexey yelled. "Is that right? I just want to make sure that you understand my concern. Now back the fuck away from the bitch, or I''ll put a bullet in your head." Alexey slowly moved backward, and Ivan bent down, transferred the Beretta from his right hand to his left, and held it on Alexey. He checked the pockets of Annika''s jeans, then he placed his hand under her blouse, found her firm breasts, and started to fondle her, all the while looking into Alexey''s eyes. "I can see why you like this young slut. Your little girlfriend has nice tits. And I would be willing to bet that''s not all she has; that''s nice. I just might have to sample it myself before I kill her. You can watch if you like. I''m sure she won''t mind. But I''ll have to put a few slugs into you first so you can''t run away. I''m sure you understand. What do you say, you little whore? Would you like that?" Ivan turned for a second to look into her face, and when he did, Alexey screamed and launched himself forward, driving his head into Ivan''s injured shoulder. ***** Ivan was surprised by the quickness of the young Czech, and although he had his pistol pointed at him, he didn¡¯t get off a shot. Alexey was only half of Ivan¡¯s weight, and he was no match against the much larger man, but the blow to his shoulder caught him off guard and sent a shock wave of pain through his entire body. The impact of the blow caused Ivan to lose control of his Beretta, and it fell harmlessly into the tall grass and brush. ¡°Aahhh, you fucking little cock sucker. You are dead, you hear me! You¡¯re fuckin dead. But first, I¡¯m gonna cut your fucking balls off and shove them down your fucking throat before I kill you.¡± Alexey heard every word coming from the enraged man¡¯s mouth, but at the moment, he was more concerned with finding the man¡¯s gun before he detached his testicles and served them up for dinner. Chapter 42 Chapter 42 Jesse was about to step into the shower when his cell phone rang. He didn''t recognize the local number. "Hello." "Mr. Taylor?" the caller asked. "Yes, this is Taylor. Who am I speaking with?" "This is Captain Gorvin. I just received a call from a Sargent, Laska, from a town just up the river. He took an emergency call from a young man who said that he had witnessed two murders and that the killer was coming after him and his girlfriend. He said the killer was driving a dark-colored Mercedes Van. I have a chopper warming up. Are you and Mr. Jackson interested in going for a ride?" "Have a car pick us up in five minutes," Jesse responded quickly. Jesse called Ken and informed him of the development. Four minutes later, they were waiting outside the front entrance of the Intercontinental Hotel when a Police cruiser pulled up. They were driven across the Vltava River to a waiting chopper that had set down in an open area of Letna Park. The cruiser pulled up behind several other police vehicles with lights flashing. They ran with their heads lowered toward the Bell 412, that was painted in the blue and gray colors of the Prague police. Once inside, they were given headsets and a place to sit. Jesse was surprised by the size of the chopper. Besides Captain Gorvin, ten swat team members were in full body armor, all carrying the new CZ 805 BREN A1 assault rifle. Gorvin gave the thumbs-up sign to the pilot, and the chopper was airborne seconds later. At just under six miles, the flight was very short. On the way, Gorvin informed Jesse that the area in question was remote and wooded and that the city of Roztoky was on the opposite side of the river from where the alleged killings took place. With no bridge access to the opposite shore, a police patrol car from Roztoky would take a long time to get to the scene; however, a police patrol boat had been dispatched. ***** Ivan was slow to recover, and Alexey dove for the Beretta and yelled, ¡°Run Annika!¡± The approaching storm clouds had brought the night much quicker. The sun was almost down, and the trees and undergrowth were masked in almost complete darkness. Ivan was still rocked by the pain in his shoulder, but he couldn¡¯t let the young Czech get his gun. He knew the girl wouldn¡¯t get far on her bad leg and concentrated on the boy. He was about to attack the boy when he was hit squarely on his bad arm by the bitch; she had found a fallen tree branch that was the perfect club length. Annika knew what their fate would be if she did nothing. Pain shot through Ivan¡¯s entire body, and he rolled to one side, withering in agony. He was about to get up when he was hit again on his bad arm and then in his face. "Aahhh, you fucking bitch!" Ivan screamed. For Ivan, playtime was over. He reached for the knife in his boot and pulled it out. Then he heard the telltale thump of the chopper blades cutting through the air. It was coming up the river, and he knew instantly that he was fucked. ***** Alexey was searching for the gun when he heard Ivan cry out in pain. He looked and saw the killer was on his back, and Annika was on her feet and making her way up the hill. Then he saw the knife in the killer''s hand, and his heart sank. Alexey couldn''t see it, but Ivan''s face was contorted in a rage of pure evil. He wanted blood lust. He wanted to look into their faces as he shoved the knife deep into their bowels and slowly ripped them open! Nothing less would do. If only he had the time. ***** The Bell 412 was soon joined by a much smaller MBB Bo 105, and both choppers traveled up the river side by side with their spotlights lighting up both sides of the river. As they approached the ravine, the smaller chopper continued searching along the river, and the larger Bell searched the road that led off into the trees and up the ravine. Almost immediately, the Bell¡¯s spotlight found the silver Toyota on the gravel road. On the edge of the bright light, Captain Gorvan spotted the motorbike and pointed it out to the man controlling the spotlight. ¡°Over there¡­work the light up the hill,¡± Gorvan shouted into his lip mic and pointed in the direction of the motorbike. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The man acknowledged with a nod, then pointed the spotlight on the motorbike. ¡°PG1, this is PG4; we spotted a silver sedan and a motorbike just off the river leading into the ravine. We¡¯ll drop off several men here. Work your way up the ravine from the river to the top of the hill.¡± ¡°Copy that PG4.¡± ¡°Set it down on the road just behind the sedan Nikola,¡± Gorvan ordered. The pilot acknowledged and set the chopper down softly. ¡°Sargent, take six men with you. Leave one at the sedan and the rest, work up the hill, and keep your ranks close. We¡¯ll try and spot them from the air.¡± ¡°Copy that.¡± After the chopper was set down, the units were deployed in precise order. Jesse found himself very impressed by the professionalism of the Czech Swat Team. There was no doubt in his mind that if the killer was out there, these men would find him. Back in the air, both choppers were now blanketing the hill and ravine in a crisscrossing grid search. The powerful spotlights penetrated the darkness, lighting up the hillside in a blinding bright light. ¡°Over there, someone¡¯s coming down the hill fast.¡± One of the Swat Team Members shouted. ***** Ivan cursed the fuckin Czechs for outwitting him. They must have called the police after all. Ivan only had a few minutes to kill them and make his escape. The girl would be easy. He might even have time to have a little fun with her before he killed her. But first, he had to take care of the boy in front of him. He wouldn¡¯t have the luxury of watching him die slowly, though. Time was not on his side. ***** Alexey also heard the choppers coming. Then he saw the spotlights coming up the river, cutting a swath through the night, and he had to make a quick decision. He knew that help had arrived, but he had to get to an opening for them to spot him. If he followed Annika and tried to protect her, they would probably both be killed by the madman. He decided to go for help and hoped that Annika could hide from him until the police arrived. ¡°Find what I told you to look for, Annika. I¡¯ll go for help!¡± Alexey yelled out as loud as he could and turned to head down the hill, hoping that the killer would follow him and not Annika. Ivan was on his feet again, and he went after the boy with the knife in his good hand. The boy slowed down about a third of the way down the hill. Something was wrong, and his survival instincts told him to be cautious, but his rage overruled his instincts. He was going to cut him down. Then he saw the boy look back with what appeared to be a smile on his lips, although it was too dark to tell. A few seconds later, he knew why. Alexey had been waiting for him, and he released a dead tree branch just at the right moment. A stiff tree branch sprang forward, caught him flush across the mouth, and knocked him backward and onto the ground. He landed on his bad hip, and it opened up his wound. The branch''s main limb was bad enough, but the secondary branches off of it did a lot of damage as well. "Ahaa¡­you fucking little bastard, after I kill you, I''m going to cut your heart out and feed it to the fish!" Ivan screamed. That wasn¡¯t going to happen. Alexey was already twenty yards down the hill and moving fast. Ivan could taste blood in his mouth, and his hand went to his face, where he found that his lip was busted open as well as his nose, and something was running into one of his eyes; more blood from a large gash above it. Ivan put a finger into his mouth and found that one of his front teeth was loose. Then he heard the chopper getting closer and saw the spotlight moving up the hill toward him. This was not working out the way he had planned. Now his rage wouldn¡¯t be satisfied until he found the bitch. ***** The temperature was dropping fast, and fog was starting to lift off the river and up its banks. Annika shivered uncontrollably despite the perspiration dripping off her forehead in the cool night air. Just twenty feet inside the cave entrance, she froze in her tracks. The darkness inside was absolute. She sensed an eerie foreboding creeping into her veins. Something on the cave floor was wet and slippery, and the pungent smell made her nauseous. Fear gripped her entire body, and she was unable to move. Finally, she turned, and the ambient light coming from the cave entrance made the total darkness around her seem less terrifying. Like a sailor being drawn to a siren¡¯s call, she slowly moved toward it. Annika had always been afraid of the dark. She had to choose between fearing the unknown on the inside or the monster waiting for her on the outside. ***** Ivan¡¯s chance at killing the boy had slipped from his hands. His lust for killing would not stop until he found the girl. The thought of the two young lovers having sex on the blanket increased his hatred for the bitch all the more. When he first entered the boys¡¯ prison camp, he was the bitch. He was passed around, traded for, and sold by all the older boys. But as he got older, it was his turn. While In prison, Ivan never felt the soft kiss or tender embrace of a young girl. He had been robbed of that experience. However, he quickly learned and enjoyed the tender embrace of a knife. He loved the way it entered the soft flesh. Then, he would watch with delight as the blood flowed from the wounds as it drained the life out of his victim. He could see the horror in their eyes as the light flickered in them and was then finally extinguished in that beautiful moment when their spirit left their body. Ivan didn¡¯t live for love. He lived to kill. And when it was all over, he often thought of the moment when his mother was pleading for him to stop the knife from entering her over and over again and was saddened by the fact that he could only kill her once. As the floodlight from the chopper started to get closer, Ivan ran to find the girl and have his knife embrace her. Chapter 43 Chapter 43 Annika could barely feel her leg that had been hit by the killer¡¯s bullet. The tourniquet had stopped most of the blood flow, but she had no sensation in her leg as she tried to escape. As she reached the mouth of the cave again, she could see the searchlights from two helicopters, and her hopes soared. Maybe she would be rescued from this nightmare after all. Alexey and the killer were nowhere to be seen, so she started to make her way down the hill, thinking the killer had fled. She just hoped and prayed that Alexey was still alive. Cold and exhausted, Annika finally reached the spot where she was struck by the bullet, and she stopped to rest. Sitting down, she felt something hard across the back of her good leg. She reached down, and her hand touched the cold, hard steel of the Beretta. Her fingers wrapped around the pistol, and she brought it into her lap. She then slid across the ground a short distance until she came to rest against the trunk of an old tree and waited for help to arrive. She didn¡¯t have to wait long. A short time later, she heard someone coming up the hill. Annika sat motionless and held her breath! ***** Ivan was furious; he could hardly see out of his left eye, and he moved his front tooth forward and backward with his tongue until he couldn¡¯t take it any longer. He finally reached into his mouth, pulled it out by the remaining strand of flesh that held it in place, and tossed it into the brush. His whole body ached, and now he just wanted to kill the girl and be done with it, and then he would make his escape. He longed to just sit down with a bottle of good vodka and forget this whole night ever happened. But he knew that wasn¡¯t going to happen. He was a survivor and would find a way out of this. He always did. The lighting was much closer now. The rain hadn¡¯t started yet, but it wouldn¡¯t be long. Ivan reached the spot where he had shot the whore, or at least he thought it was the spot, and he looked around for his Beretta. The darkness was intense now. However, some of the light from the approaching spotlights touched the edges of the abyss like an apparition in a window on a dark and stormy night. Then, a lightning bolt struck close by, eliminating the night as bright as day and chasing the darkness away. Seconds later, a loud clap of thunder shook the ground and reverberated up and down the river. It was close. As Ivan looked around in the lightning¡¯s afterglow, he saw something that made him smile. The whore was sitting under the tree just a few yards away. Ivan knew she couldn¡¯t run, so he approached her slowly and taunted her. ¡°There you are¡­ my little fucking bitch,¡± Ivan said longingly. ¡°Now¡­you will feel my knife. But first, I will need to get close to your face to see your reaction when I stick the blade into your belly and open you up." Ivan was surprised she didn¡¯t move and strangely made no sound. He slowly moved toward her, relishing the moment. Only a few steps away now. Then, another lightning flash filled the night sky pushing back the darkness once more. But what Ivan saw this time stopped him cold in his tracks. From only a few feet away, the bitch had his Beretta pointed straight at his face. ***** Annika was gripped with fear when she first saw the killer in the light of the first lightning flash. She sat motionless against the tree trunk, hoping he wouldn¡¯t see her and move on. Then he stopped, got down on his knees, and started to search the underbrush and grass for what she knew was now in her hands. There was another flash of lightning, and it was much closer this time. Annika¡¯s hopes were soon dashed when the killer raised his head and spotted her. Their eyes locked for just an instant, and she could see his smile. His face seemed to be covered in blood. He looked like something out of a horror movie. In the darkness, Annika gripped the pistol with both hands and raised it off of her lap. She had only fired a gun once. It was a shotgun. Alexey had taken her hunting, and she shot at a bottle on a fencepost. Despite his warning, she still remembered how the shotgun almost knocked her to the ground after she pulled the trigger. Annika didn¡¯t like guns, and the experience left her disliking guns even more. But now she was pointing a gun at something much bigger and extremely more dangerous than a bottle. She knew that most guns had a safety mechanism and prayed that the gun would fire. As he approached, her hands shook. Then it happened. Another lightning bolt lit up the night sky and illuminated the killer¡¯s bloody face. She screamed, closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger over and over again, feeling the gun jump back in her hands every time. ***** There was a small muzzle flash and a sharp buzzing sound from the silenced Beretta, and Ivan still felt its stinging effects. The first slug tore through the top of his right ear, nearly taking it off, but the second and third missed entirely, with the slugs sailing harmlessly over his head. Ivan decided that discretion was the better part of valor and made a hasty retreat away from the scorned woman. He wasn¡¯t going to stick around and take any more unpleasantries from the bitch and his Beretta. Several more lightning flashes later, Ivan scrambled up the hill and found the cave entrance purely by chance. A lightning flash illuminated the dark hole in the side of the cliff. After entering and traveling just a short distance, he turned around as Annika had done. He touched his ruined ear and vowed to kill both of the Czechs if he ever escaped the clutches of the police. Suddenly, he could hear men coming up the hill, and the searchlights from the choppers were now illuminating the cave entrance. He had no place to run or hide except for the cave itself. He didn¡¯t mind the darkness. In prison, he was often locked in solitary confinement for various bad behaviors against other inmates and guards. Just before entering the cave, Ivan looked at the ground and found a long, narrow stick to use as a navigating device. He picked it up, broke it off at a more manageable length, and entered the cave. Ivans''s progress was slowed by the uneven floor. He had only traveled twenty yards into the damp cave when any outside light disappeared, and he stood in complete darkness. He pulled out his cheap disposable cigarette lighter and spun the striker wheel. The small flame pushed back the darkness, although not far enough to fully reveal the size of the chamber he now stood in. He adjusted the flame higher, and it illuminated deeper into the cave. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The chamber was large and deep, with hundreds of stalactites that looked like dirty icicles hanging from the ceiling. Ivan walked further into the cave and looked at his surroundings while searching for a side tunnel. He passed numerous mounds that looked like giant ant hills but, in reality, were multi-colored stalagmites that had formed over thousands of years. He finally spotted a smaller side tunnel and entered it. The ceiling was much lower than the larger cavern, and he started to search for a hiding place. He stopped because something was sticking to the bottom of his shoes. He moved the lighter close to the ground and looked at the cave floor. There was something like mud on the ground, and it had a very nasty smell. A few seconds later, he knew the answer to its source. He put his lighter away, took out his Iridium Satellite phone, and powered it up. The glow from the screen was much brighter than the cigarette lighter, and he moved it in every direction, including up. Six feet above his head, the ceiling was literally covered with bats. Ivan hated rats. While at the boy¡¯s prison, he would often wake up with them crawling over him while searching for food. Looking up, he saw these things as nothing more than flying rats. Now, he wished he had never entered the cave, but he had no choice. Then, as if things weren¡¯t going bad enough, they suddenly got worse. All at once, as if in unison, they started to move out of the cave and into the night. Ivan was engulfed in a flurry of brown fir and leathery wings within seconds. He tried to cover his head with his arms but to no avail. The sheer number of bats forced him to the ground as he tried to escape the onslaught. Ivan finally crawled into a crevice in the wall where he was safe and waited for the flurry to subside. Ivan seethed as he looked at his clothes. He was covered from head to toe in bat guano from his dive to the cave floor in an attempt to escape the flying rodents. His ear hurt like hell, along with his mouth, nose, hip, and shoulder. He didn¡¯t dare touch his ear or mouth because of the bat shit on his hands. Resting on the cave floor, he heard them coming. He couldn¡¯t make out their words, but it was just a matter of time before they would find him. A few seconds later, he could see the light from their flashlights move along the cave walls like phantoms in the night. But armed men, not apparitions, were coming after him. Ivan powered up his satellite phone again and moved deeper into the cave. Then, his problems continued. After only traveling a short distance, his phone went dead. The battery was exhausted. He dug around in his pockets for his lighter, but it was nowhere to be found. He guessed it must have fallen out of his jacket pocket while trying to avoid the flying rats. Too tired to fight, and with only his knife as a weapon, he just sat down and waited for the inevitable. He would take his chances and hope for escape after he was treated for his wounds. Defeated and tired, Ivan longed for a bottle of vodka even though he knew the liquid would burn his ruined lip and mouth. He had been beaten before when he first entered the youth prison, although that was a long time ago. He had killed many men, women, and even some children since then. He had been in fights with every conceivable weapon a person could imagine and had always come out on the winning end. Not this time. He¡¯d been beaten by a couple of teenagers. As Ivan was pondering this, when a flashlight hit him in the eyes. ¡°Well, well¡­will you look at this sorry fucking mess? Don¡¯t you fuckin move!¡± the voice said mockingly in Russian. ***** Ivan was handcuffed and put in leg irons. He was escorted down the hill, where the two helicopters were waiting on the ground just off the river. He was hastily ushered past Alexey and Annika, who were embracing each other as a medic was attending to her leg. He didn¡¯t even look their way. No one wanted to touch the prisoner due to his filthy condition and smell. He was placed in the Bell 412 on the seat opposite Jesse and Ken and shackled in. Ken and Jesse looked at the man who, by all accounts, was a very dangerous man. He was a sight to behold. His clothes were filthy. His ear was bleeding down the side of his head, and his hair was matted down with blood and bat guano. His lip was full of dried and fresh blood, as was his nose and left eye. He also appeared to be bleeding from the wounds in his shoulder and hip. And on top of all that, his front tooth was missing. "So this is the great Ivan Rakov, professional hit man, assassin, and raper of women and children. God, you look like and smell like shit. What, you couldn''t handle a couple of teenagers? You must be slipping, Ivan. Are you getting too old for this kind of shit?" Ken said, mocking the man. Ivan had to learn English in his profession, and he understood every word. "Who the fuck are you¡­you prick, fucking asshole?" Ivan''s words sounded slurred because of his missing tooth and swollen lips; however, Ken had no trouble understanding the deranged man. Ken got in his face and said, "I''m your worse fucking nightmare, you dumb fuckin Russian jerkoff." Ivan''s response was to spit in Ken''s face and accuse his mother of being a moral degenerate in Russian. Ken looked at Jesse and said, "Can I please?" Jesse put on a stern face and shook his head. "He''s not our prisoner, Ken." Ivan now spit in Jesse''s face and then started to laugh. "Whoever you are, you''re both a couple of fuckin pussies." "Now, can I?" Ken asked again with a grin. Jesse looked into Ivan''s eyes, and then slowly nodded his head. The response was quick and painful. Ken¡¯s right fist caught Ivan coming forward, about to unleash another verbal tirade. The jackhammer punch from the former Golden Gloves light heavyweight was so quick that Ivan didn¡¯t even see it coming. The blow caught him flush on the side of his face, and Ivan¡¯s head was instantly filled with stars. ¡°I don¡¯t know who the fuck you think you are, but that is assault, and I am going to sue you, big black ass,¡± Ivan said as he spit out blood from his busted lip. Ken looked at Captain Gorvan, who had been watching with more than a little amusement. He smiled and said, ¡°I didn¡¯t see a thing.¡± ***** Ivan was taken to a hospital and was treated for his wounds, and pumped full of antibiotics to fight off infection. His clothes were incinerated. Waking up, he found himself shackled to the bed with an armed guard at the end of the room, sitting in a chair. The room was obviously intended for criminals. Iron bars covered the single small window. There was no television nor any pictures of any kind on the drab gray walls. He looked over at his bed stand and found nothing he could use as a weapon. He felt his face and found that his lip, nose, and eyebrow had been stitched up, and his ear was covered in a bandage. His mouth was so dry it felt like a parched wasteland. He reached for his water glass but found it only contained ice cubes with some water in the bottom. Pain shot through his lips when he placed it in his mouth. The small amount of water was not enough to quench his powerful thirst, but it was amazingly wonderful. He pulled out an ice cube and placed it into his mouth. This simple little cube had a calming effect that he couldn¡¯t quite understand. The guard noticed him stirring and got up. He walked over to Ivan and whispered something in his good ear, then the guard placed a call from a disposable throwaway cell phone. It hurt for Ivan to smile, but he did despite the discomfort. Chapter 44 Chapter 44 Riyadh, Saudi Arabia Al Ali clicked off his secure iPhone and set it down softly on the gleaming black top of his exquisitely hand-crafted ebony desk. He glanced at his million-dollar Patek Philippe Sky-Moon Tourbillon wristwatch to mark the time. As promised, a follow-up e-mail came through on his laptop less than a minute later. He opened it and then downloaded the attached encrypted word file. After decoding the message, Ali read the report twice, then leaned back in his overstuffed leather chair and sighed. Ivan had made minor mistakes in the past, but this one was serious. The fact that he tried to deal with the problem himself was more troubling. Ali picked up the cigarette pack off his desk and slowly walked toward his gardens. This would be a delicate matter, and he needed time to think. Ali¡¯s excessively overweight body was effectively hidden by his traditional white cotton Thawb as he walked from the massive Persian carpet onto the polished marble floor. Leaving his office, he passed through a vaulted Iwan into the central courtyard. He followed the path and found his favorite spot shaded by a perfectly manicured traveler¡¯s palm. He sat down on a cushioned marble bench and was immediately approached by a male servant. The young man bowed in his presence, but Ali waved him off with a tiny hand gesture. The servant took up his usual position and waited for any sign that the Sheik would require his assistance. Ali didn¡¯t indulge in alcohol, for Allah forbids it, but cigarettes were an entirely different matter. Taking a cigarette out, he lit it and let the smoke fill his lungs. The flowing water in the three-tiered fountain before him was as comforting to his soul as the tobacco smoke was to his mind and body. Ali was soft-spoken, yet that didn''t deter his power or ruthlessness. In fact, people feared him all the more. With an ever so slight raise of his hand, his servant immediately approached him. He spoke in Arabic and requested a cup of tea. The servant bowed and quickly backed away without making eye contact. Out of sight of the Sheik, the servant raised his hand, and a cart containing coffee, tea, and an assortment of pastries and fresh, chilled fruit arrived at his side less than a minute later. The servant sampled everything in Ali''s presence and placed any unfinished tested items on a silver plate that another servant took away. The servant then poured his master a cup of tea from an English bone china teapot that was always hot and ready. He added a teaspoon of sugar, stirred it, and then placed the cup and saucer on a gold serving tray. He held the tray rock steady as he offered the tea exactly six inches over his master''s knees. After Ali accepted the tea, the servant bowed and returned to his position without speaking. Ali took one sip and set the cup and saucer on his lap, still contemplating what to do about the problem in Prague. After eating several sweets from the cart and pouring himself another cup of tea, Ali decided to spare the life of one of his best assets, at least for now. A team of men would be dispatched to Prague to try and remedy the situation there. The news reports had been sketchy, and there was no mention of the fate of Dr. Chakinski in any of them. ***** Ken knocked on Jesse¡¯s hotel room door, and moments later, the door opened. He eyed the big, black, handsome man, and his mouth turned up into a tight smile. The man looked good. He wore a black silk mock turtleneck sweater that showed off his large pecks and flat stomach, a black leather jacket, and black designer jeans. A black fedora with a white silk band and a red feather covered his bold head. His facial hair was neatly trimmed around his chin and upper lip in a short circle beard. Finishing off the look, he had large diamond stud earrings in both ears. ¡°Have a seat. I¡¯ll be ready in a few minutes,¡± Jesse said. Ken entered, made his way to the mini bar, found a small bottle of Absolute Vodka, and made himself a drink. He walked over to the window overlooking the river and the city lights and said, "After I put your sorry old ass to bed, I''m gonna do some serious partying before we leave this fine old city. The concierge hooked me up with some of the hottest clubs in town. I''ll have to check them all out before this night is over." "Ken, if my phone rings in the middle of the night, I''m not going to answer it. You''re on your own tonight, big guy! So try and stay out of trouble just once, for both of our sakes!" Ken started to laugh, but then he had an idea and said, "Say, why don''t you come with me clubbing after our little dinner with Captain Gorvin tonight? You may not be the fine, handsome man that you used to be, but I''m sure some women may still cast an eye your way, bro. You never know; you just might get lucky." Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. "I think I''ll sit this one out; I wouldn''t want to get in your way. I''ve seen you in action, my friend, and I''d just get lost in your wake." "No sir, I always take care of my wingman. What do you say? We''ll light it up tonight! No fuckin doubt about it, my man." "Ok, after dinner, I''ll join you for one drink, and we''ll go from there." "Now you''re talking. You just follow old Kenny, and you''ll be just fine. We gonna par-tay tonight!" Ken finished his drink and danced to an imaginary song in his head while he made his way to the minibar again. Jesse just looked at him and said, "God help me!" ***** Captain Gorvin met Jesse and Ken at the Nebozizek Restaurant at 7:00 PM. Their cab pulled up to the front entrance, and two doormen opened the cab doors from each side. The fine dining establishment was located just below the Petrin Observation Tower, known as the Eiffel Tower of Prague, on Petrin Hill. Ken took one look at the gleaming white two-story restaurant nestled into the hillside and deemed that it was way out of their league. From its hillside perch, the restaurant had commanding views of the old city and the Vltava River. Jesse saw women dressed in long evening gowns wearing expensive jewelry and men dressed in fine suits entering the upscale dining establishment. He took one look at Ken and quickly assessed that neither was dressed for the occasion. Jesse and Ken were met at the bar by Captain Gorvin. They all shook hands and were quickly seated at one of the best tables overlooking the magnificent old city by the ma?tre d, who greeted the Captain warmly. Candles were lit, water was poured, bread was placed, and fine linen napkins were positioned on their laps by their waiter. All three ordered drinks and settled in for a good meal. After the waiter left, Ken looked around and was the first to speak. "You neglected to tell us that this was a jacket and tie establishment, Captain." Gorvin waved his hand as if dismissing the comment. He smiled and said, "It is, but I have special privileges. Did you know that President Clinton once dined here?" "I''m impressed, but the former president also likes McDonalds. Although I would wager to guess that the cuisine is much better here," Jesse finally chimed in. Ken said, "I liked old Billy. He did have a way with the ladies. It almost cost him his job, but what the hell, he''s he doing alright now! I would have voted for the man if I would have been old enough." Jesse chuckled briefly and glanced at Ken, ¡°God, you make me feel old.¡± ¡°You are old, my man!¡± Ken said with a straight face. Ignoring the younger man¡¯s jab, Jesse addressed Gorvin, ¡°So why this place, Captain? I¡¯m not saying that I don¡¯t like it. It¡¯s fabulous, and the views of the city and the Prague castle are magnificent, but it seems a bit formal for the likes of us.¡± At that moment, their drinks arrived, and the waiter placed them before each man. Captain Gorvin beamed and said, ¡°You will see very soon, my friends. Now let¡¯s just eat and drink and enjoy the beautiful night in the most wonderful city in the world.¡± He held up his glass over the table, and the others followed suit. The glasses touched, and the chime of fine crystal filled the air. ¡°To Capitalism, may it rule forever?¡± Gorvin said with gusto and finished his vodka as if someone were trying to steal it from him. Ken and Jesse eyed each other after his remark. ¡°I take it you didn¡¯t like living under Communism,¡± Jesse said, eyeing the man inquisitively. ¡°Fools¡­the lot of them. After the war, we had our chance of following the East or the West, but the idiots in power chose the Communists because they liberated us from the Nazis. So our country languished under Communism for over forty years before our people came to their senses and started the Velvet Revolution to rid us of their iron yoke. Czechoslovakia was split between the Czech Republic and Slovakia, and the Czechs have thrived under Capitalism ever since.¡± Without saying a word, the waiter brought fresh drinks for all. Ken thought; They have this dog trained well. The menu and wine list were dispensed, and Jesse and Ken looked to Gorvin for advice. "I will order the starters and soups. For the main dish, my favorite is the grilled salmon, but the pike is also excellent. And, of course, you can''t go wrong with the lamb chops; they are exceptional." For the starter, Captain Gorvin ordered Prague ham from bone with horseradish, arugula salad with grilled pear parma ham, and Parmesan and Bohemian onion soup with cheese toast for all of them. Jesse ordered the Pike, Ken the lamb chops, and Gorvin had his favorite, the grilled salmon. When the waiter arrived with the main course, the head chef greeted the men with a bottle of the restaurant''s finest white wine. Gorvin stood and greeted the man with a hearty handshake and a hug. Then Gorvin introduced the chef to his dining companions. "Jesse, Ken, this is Tomik. He''s the best chef in all of Prague, and he also happens to be my brother," Gorvin announced with pride. Ken and Jesse stood and shook hands with the chef, and it was suddenly apparent why Gorvin had chosen this particular eating establishment over the more popular ones in the city. The food and wine were excellent, as Gorvin had promised. Just before the after-dinner drinks and coffee were served, Gorvin''s cell phone rang. He listened for a while, asked a few questions, and then rang off. Jesse or Ken couldn''t speak the language, but from the tone of Gorvin''s voice and facial expressions, Jesse knew the news wasn''t good. Gorvin shook his head and said, "I''m afraid I have some bad news, my friends. It appears that the guards who were watching Ivan Rakov at the hospital were overpowered by armed men. One of my men is dead, and another is in surgery as we speak." "And Rakov?" Jesse asked. "We have a manhunt out for him and the men that helped him escape. But at this moment, there''s no trace of them." Part IIII Chapter 45 Part IIII The Coup d¡¯¨¦tat Chapter 45 James Goldstein was nervous only because the person about to enter the Oval Office made him very uncomfortable. Goldstein was the President''s re-election campaign manager and he was going against his advice. The President was seated on one of the two handcrafted sofas designed by Theodore Alexander and was going over a bi-partisan bill that he intended to sign. He chose the leather sofas over his wife''s objections simply because he liked them and they fit his personality. He politely told her it was his office and intended to furnish it with things he wanted, not what she wanted. She had the rest of the White House to decorate however she chose. The tufted Old English Leather sofas were framed in cherry wood with carved cherubim forming the armrests with their angelic wings swooping back along each side and flowing into the backrest. Mrs. Roberts suggested that his taste in furniture would be more suited to King Nebuchadnezzar¡¯s Palace rather than the Oval Office. To which he replied, ¡°You¡¯re probably right, my dear¡­ but after all. It is my domain.¡± ***** President Roberts placed the thick folder down on the coffee table in front of him and picked up a supplement to his daily briefing, which was given to him by the CIA director on the current problems in the Middle East. Of course, there were problems in the Middle East. It was just a simple fact of life. The family feud between Isaac and Ishmael had been going on for centuries. Even if Israel was wiped off the face of the earth, there would still be problems in the Middle East simply because all the Arab countries couldn¡¯t get along with each other. Yet the simple truth was that the Middle East, with all its complexity, completely intrigued him. Margaret Daniels, his chief of staff, sat beside him while Goldstein paced back and forth over the Presidential Seal on the oval rug in the center of the room. ¡°Please sit down, James; you¡¯re making me nervous,¡± Margaret said as she set her coffee cup on the matching Theodore Alexander cherry wood coffee table. Wringing his hands, Goldstein reluctantly sat across from the President and his chief of staff. Roberts never looked up from the document he was reading. Five minutes later, a slight knock was on the door, and Judy Mason entered the room. ¡°Mr. President, Secretary Williams is here to see you.¡± ¡°Ask her to come in, please,¡± the President said. As she entered the Oval Office, Roberts stood and greeted the extremely attractive Secretary of State. He extended his hand and gave her his best political smile. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Sydney, thank you for stopping by on such short notice; I know how busy you are these days.¡± The President placed his hand on Sydney''s back and escorted her to the sofa opposite his chief of staff and next to James Goldstein. "Please have a seat, Sydney; by the way, you look radiant as ever. Can I get you anything to drink?" Sydney smiled and thought, "The man''s as smooth as a baby''s ass." "No, thank you, Mr. President, I''m just fine," Sydney said, smiling back at him. Sydney looked stunning in her exquisitely tailored Armani navy blue suit, white silk blouse by Versace, and black pumps and handbag fashioned by Prada. A simple gold herringbone necklace graced her neck, complementing her small gold hoop earrings. Her hair was long, dark, and silky and framed her flawless face perfectly. Despite her years, her body was still lean and firm, and many men sought her affection after her late husband passed away. Most were chewed up and devoured without much of a fight. She had a reputation in Washington as a ball buster, and almost all male suitors kept their distance, at least the sane ones. She sat down on the sofa and ran her hand over the soft leather. She eyed his chief of staff and tried to get a read but got nothing from her poker face. Then she looked at James Goldstein and knew that her aspirations for the Vice Presidency were in trouble. The man was clearly nervous, fidgeting, and wouldn¡¯t sit still. She even thought she noticed some perspiration on his forehead. After the pleasantries ended, the conversation turned to the real reason for her visit. "As you know, Sydney, you are one of my top choices to fill the ticket in the upcoming election due to Vice President Buchanan''s untimely death." Sydney kept silent as the President paused. "You have done an outstanding job for our party and for this administration, and I can''t tell you how thankful I am personally for all of your support during my first term." Again, Roberts paused, finding the right words as Sydney sat politely and quietly, keeping Roberts on the hook. "You are by far the most respected and recognized woman in Washington, and I don''t have to tell you how sensitive the American voters can be. Sanderson''s numbers are coming up, and my re-election is not a sure thing." Bullshit, Sydney thought. "If we are going to win this fall, I need a strong figure at my side, and I can''t think of anyone I would rather have than you, Sydney," another pause. Sydney knew the "but" was coming and kept silent. "My re-election team has gone over the numbers from every angle, and they feel that I need a strong family man as my running mate if I''m going to win re-election." Sydney finally said, "I understand, Mr. President, and I wholeheartedly support your decision and will stand by you and support you in any way I can in this election and your second term. I can''t say that I''m not disappointed, but I do understand. Thank you for considering me. I am very flattered, sir." Sydney got up to leave, but the President put his hand out to stop her. "Please sit down, Sydney. I was about to say that, although I respect my re-election team''s analysis, I don''t necessarily agree with them, and it''s high time we had a woman VP. I''m asking you if you will join me on the ticket." ***** That November, Roberts won reelection by a wide margin, with the majority of the feminist groups applauding his decision, although many were not overjoyed that she was a Republican. However, they did support her because she was far from being a conservative. Chapter 46 Chapter 46 Cindy Becket wept silently with her son and daughters as the vigil for her husband slipped into the cold April night. Congressman Becket was not long for this life. At 79 years of age, he had made his peace with God, and it was just a matter of time before his spirit would leave this world and the good life on this earth that he had been blessed with. Congressman Becket had served the State of Connecticut for nearly forty years as a staunch blue-dog Democrat. His wish that his terminal cancer be kept a secret was honored by his physician and family members. Samuel was a proud but humble man who didn¡¯t want any undue lamenting over his death before he departed from this life. Only a few public servants knew of his illness, including President Roberts and Vice President Buchanan, before his own death the previous fall. At 12:06 in the morning, the good people of Connecticut lost Samuel Becket as their faithful servant and friend. He had lived much longer than his physician had given him, although it did not ease his family¡¯s sorrow. ***** When the news broke, all the news outlets and social media blogs were abuzz about the untimely death of one of the greatest Congressman to grace the halls of the Capital, with pundits on both sides of the aisle praising his decades of leadership, wise counsel, and his total dedication to his country and the state he represented proudly. He had served under many administrations with grace and dignity. Truly, the country had lost a great man. President Richards gave a prime-time news conference praising the man and his legacy, and all government flags throughout the country were placed at half-mast to honor the fallen political giant. The only thing left to do was to lay the great man to rest. ***** It was a gorgeous spring afternoon, with temperatures in the mid-70s, as the procession slowed and entered Elm Grove Cemetery off Greenmanville Avenue, just one mile north of the Mystic, Connecticut harbor. The beautiful garden cemetery would be the final resting place of one of Connecticut¡¯s finest statesmen. Elegant swans graced the ponds, songbirds were singing, tulips, daffodils, hyacinth, and flowering plum and apple trees were in full blossom, offering pleasant aromas and stunning scenic beauty. The U.S. Stars and Stripes fluttered lazily on the four escort motorcycles as they passed under the twenty-foot-wide granite archway and through the wrought iron gates constructed in 1892 by the Westerly Granite Company. Over the arches, and just beneath the stone cap and dental work, were chiseled the words "I am the Resurrection and the Life," above the curve of the arch on either side were the Greek letters "Alpha and Omega." Just behind the escort motorcycles was the hearse carrying the body of Congressman Becket, followed by a solemn parade of family and prominent U.S. officials in Cadillac limos, black Chevy Suburbans, and high-end luxury automobiles all flying the nation''s stars and stripes. The Secret Service had spent days going over the cemetery in preparation for the solemn event, and all traffic into the cemetery had been restricted ever since the Congressman¡¯s death. Bomb-sniffing dogs scoured the burial site and along the river bank. All vehicles in the motorcade were checked for explosives. Coast Guard Patrol boats stopped all traffic on the Mystic river a half mile in both directions from the cemetery, and just as the motorcade left the Union Baptist Church, all traffic on Interstate 95 was diverted to other routes as it overlooked the cemetery. ***** The motorcade wound its way through the cemetery and stopped at the family burial plot, just a short distance from the River¡¯s edge. President Roberts was among the dignitaries who were there to pay the great man his final respects. Following his secret service escorts, the President stepped out of his black Chevy Suburban into the clean, crisp air and abundant sunshine. There were just under one hundred souls attending the ceremony. They all stood in silence as the casket was reverently removed from the hearse, and the six pallbearers silently carried Congressman Becket to his final resting place. The site was just below a slight rise, with an old elm tree positioned just above his grave. A few minutes later, the burial site was surrounded by a select few guests. Reverend Collins presided over the final rights, and after finishing his eulogy, he turned the proceedings over to the President. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. President Roberts stepped forward and shook the pastor¡¯s hand before facing the crowd. ¡°I am honored and humbled to be here today, to honor this great and noble man. Our nation has lost----¡± The President never got a chance to finish his sentence. His words were cut off by a massive explosion that erupted from an elm tree just fifteen feet away. A radio signal had set off a blasting cap, igniting the ten pounds of C4 plastic explosive hidden inside the old tree. The small blast set off a chain reaction of expanding gases that raced out at over 26,000 feet per second, causing a shock wave that leveled everything in its path. However, the two thousand stainless steel ball bearings embedded in the C4 did most of the damage. The ensuing fireball reached over one hundred feet into the air, and a small mushroom cloud followed. The shockwave knocked down everyone standing within one hundred yards of the epicenter. The once beautiful gardens were instantly transformed into a surreal landscape where color, like an old movie, was paradoxically reduced to black and white. As the air cleared, the tragedy was evident. Bodies of the dead and dying were scattered everywhere. Injured people were crying out for help while others just moaned in pain and shock. The explosion killed the President instantly and then ripped through the crowd, killing and maiming a third of those present. The casket containing the body of the late Congressman was no longer on the structure designed to hold it above the grave. It was lying on its side, riddled with holes but amazingly still sealed. President Roberts was unrecognizable. He had been standing directly in front of the blast area, and he seemed to have just disintegrated. ***** A swarm of Secret Service Agents with their H&K MP5s and Remington 870s searched for possible follow-up attacks. It quickly became apparent that the President of the United States was not among the living. Four Sikorsky UH-60 Blackhawks were dispatched from the Groton New London Airport immediately following the blast. The Blackhawks made the 5-mile trip in less than 5 minutes after receiving the call. Several uninjured Congressmen and two Senators were swiftly placed in waiting armor-plated SUVs and driven to a pair of Blackhawks that had just touched down in the nearest opening from the blast site, just one hundred yards away. The Blackhawks then proceeded back to the airfield, where a Gulfstream G5 was waiting on the runway with several doctors on board. A squadron of F-18 Hornets and six F-22 Raptors scramble from Hanscom Air Force Base in Massachusetts to escort the G5 back to Washington and fly cover over Mystic and Groton. All air traffic throughout the country was grounded, and any incoming transatlantic flights were ordered to return if possible or land at the nearest airport. The Joint Chiefs of Staff placed the U.S. Military on DEFCON 3 alert, fearing a nuclear attack after the successful assassination of President Roberts. Whoever was behind this heinous cowardly attack could deliver a death blow to the country without its top leadership in place. Unlike Lyndon Johnson after the John F. Kennedy assassination in 1963, Sydney Williams was not immediately sworn in as President of the United States. It took just a bit longer. Sydney was walking the halls of the Capital Building when she received the news. Her secret service team immediately ushered her through the secure underground tunnel system and into a secure bunker where she was soon met by the heads of the NSA, FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Three hours after the assassination of President Roberts, Sydney Williams was sworn in by Chief Justice William Rehnquist as the next President of the United States. Chapter 47 Chapter 47 Phuket Thailand Sue Chin had never seen his naked body except at night. Now, she could see the many scars on his deeply tanned body in the morning light. The man was trim and fit. He had long, dark, wavy hair starting to turn gray and a week¡¯s worth of facial hair. She had also never seen the large tattoo of a cobra with its head poised to strike at a mongoose on his back. She had only seen the ones on his arms. She didn¡¯t know what they represented and was afraid to ask. One was of a coiled, diamond-patterned snake with its forked tongue out and fangs bared and the words ¡°Don¡¯t tread on me¡± below it. The other was of a wavy American flag with swords crossed and the words ¡°Live free or die¡± across the face. On the shoulders that she could see was a tattoo of a winged skull with a beret and crossed knives below the jaw. Below the knives were the words MAC V SOG. The beautiful twenty-something, wearing nothing but her birthday suit, gently nudged the man lying on the king-size bed. To her amusement, he just rolled over and said something indiscernible. Not deterred, she pinched his butt cheek. "Ouch," the man said playfully while opening his eyes and turning toward the young woman with a smile. "Good morning, my little Teerak¡­I see you brought me some coffee. That was very nice of you." "Yes, I did," Sue Chin said while holding a cup of steaming black coffee. "I hope you didn''t walk around in front of Kasem like that; you''re likely to give that old man a heart attack. Set it down on the table and come and give me a kiss." Sue giggled and set the cup down, knowing that he probably wanted more than just a kiss. Ten minutes later, Shawn sat up on the edge of the bed and consumed his now lukewarm coffee. He turned to look at the young woman lying face down on the bed and smiled. His days of hard drinking had slowed considerably, but not his taste for young Asian women. He got up, slipped on his robe, and made his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a hot cup of coffee, gave his breakfast request to his housekeeper Kasem, and then took a shower. After his shower, he returned to the kitchen, refilled his coffee cup, and walked out onto the balcony just off the kitchen. The white rattan sofa, with beep blue cushions and white throw pillows, had been swept clean of any debris accumulated from the previous night. Shawn loved his morning coffee overlooking the sea. It was one of his few private moments in his ordinarily busy day. Sometimes, his thoughts would drift back to the hills around the Cumberland Gap, and he reflected on how fate, or the hand of God, had brought him to this paradise. ***** After the incident in Miami, Shawn returned home to Middlesboro, Kentucky, with his truck and camper. But it wasn¡¯t long before he learned of his stepfather¡¯s death and of the warrant that had been issued for his arrest. One of the sheriff¡¯s deputies, with whom Shawn had played football in high school, had warned him that the sheriff had no choice but to arrest him. With this foreknowledge, he quickly left town and traveled to the East Coast, where a job was waiting for him, a job that would take him out of the country. But before he left, he asked his sister and her husband, who owned a small farm, if they would continue to store his car as they did when he was in the service. Shawn sold his truck and boarded the ship where he would spend the next year and a half on the high seas as an undocumented merchant marine using false documents and passport thanks to an army friend whose father owned the small shipping company. But everything changed when we woke up in a whore-house after a hard night of drinking in Phuket during shore leave. He learned that his ship had sailed without him, and he never looked back. He had found his new home. ***** Kasem arrived with his breakfast and the current edition of the Phuket Gazette just as Shawn was finishing his coffee. ¡°So what¡¯s new in the world today, Kasem?¡± Shawn asked as he did almost every day. ¡°I only cook and clean; I don¡¯t have time to read.¡± was his usual reply. But not today! ¡°Very bad, Mr. Shawn¡­I just got newspaper. The American President was assassinated yesterday.¡± Kasem put down the tray containing his breakfast and the Phuket Gazette on the glass coffee table in front of him. ¡°What?¡± Shawn grabbed the newspaper and quickly read the headlines. ¡°United States President Assassinated¡± Shawn was stunned. He continued to read the article, which outlined the events that happened in Mystic. He threw down the paper on the coffee table and walked to the kitchen to get more updated information. He grabbed the remote off the center island bar and turned on the flat-screen television mounted on the wall across from the center island eating area. Kasem was right on his heels carrying his uneaten breakfast and placed it down in front of his boss, who had just pulled up a stool. "Will you bring me another cup of coffee, Kasem?" Shawn said while searching for CNN. He sat memorized as he watched the last day''s events unfold before his eyes. The cable news channel was continually playing the scenes of chaos and destruction at the Mystic, Connecticut, cemetery. He heard the death toll and of those injured. The list was staggering: names of prominent men and women from across the country and foreign dignitaries. The reaction to the stock market was immediate. The S&P, DOW, and NASDAQ all plummeted, finishing the day down nearly twenty percent in the last hours of trading. The Asian markets followed the U.S. markets on the opening of trading. Shawn watched as the talking heads ran down the list of possible suspects. The list was a who''s who of Islamic terrorist groups. ISIS, Al Qaeda, Islamic Jihad, Hezbollah, Al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigade, Hamas, and Jemaah Islamiya, although none had taken responsibility, and that puzzled many of the pundits. CNN cameras were in the streets of Gaza and Damascus, showing women, children, and young and old men shouting "Death to America" and claiming a great victory for Allah over the Great Satan. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. CNN interviewed citizens on the streets of Los Angeles and New York, giving their reactions to the assassination. Wolf Blitzer had on a spokesman for CAIR (Council on American-Islamic Relations) condemning the attack and asking for restraint and a rush to judgment. ¡°We wholeheartedly condemn this cowardly attack,¡± and ¡°Islam is a religion of peace and tolerance.¡± ¡°Yeah, right, tell that to the people who were killed by the Pattani guerrillas,¡± Shawn said to himself, referring to the unrest in Southern Thailand by the Islamic Separatist Group embedded there. Shawn had heard enough from Blitzer and switched channels to the BBC, where he got a little different slant. The BBC was doing a story on the new President of the United States. That¡¯s when he got his first look at Sydney Williams. CNN had talked about the former Secretary of State briefly but not in great detail. Shawn finally started to eat at the urging of Kasem, who finally threw out his cold breakfast and started over again. Shawn could care less about U.S. politics, or politicians for that matter. He didn¡¯t follow the U.S. elections or care who was in office. He had lived in Thailand for so long that he felt that this was his home now. But deep inside the man, he felt a burning anger and profound sorrow for his former homeland and country that he had once sworn to protect and defend. He noticed that the new President was gorgeous, and somehow, she looked very familiar to him. But in his line of work, he saw beautiful women from every corner of the world on a daily basis, at his club and on the streets of Phuket. He listened to the BBC reporter with casual interest until he heard the words former Secretary of State and CIA agent. His eyes were instantly drawn to the screen and the image of the new Commander in Chief. Even the name Sydney hadn¡¯t registered immediately until it was coupled with a former CIA agent. He looked at the face on the screen, and the light came on. He put his hand over his mouth and said softly, ¡°You¡¯ve got to be fucking kidding me!¡± Another man watched the news reports with keen interest, although he wasn¡¯t forty-three hundred miles from Washington, D.C. He was much closer. Jesse Taylor was only a few miles away. ***** Shawn Harris was the owner of a very successful and trendy nightclub called The Mongoose Club. His home, however, was far from the noisy tourist area, in a very exclusive area of Phuket. Setting atop a peninsula just south of Nai Yang Beach, his luxury home was originally built by media mogul Sondhi Limthongkul as one of his many escape homes. But after his conviction for falsifying documents to secure a multi-million dollar loan for his media empire, it was sold along with the vast majority of his other assets to pay his attorney fees and creditors circling like hungry vultures. The home afforded the new owner breathtaking views of the Andaman Sea and surrounding area and the additional security of five fenced-in acres. The contemporary three-story white stucco home was designed with four bedrooms, four baths, an indoor pool and spa, and two outdoor pools. All the bedrooms were on the top floor and had full glass doors leading to their private balconies, and each offered a different view of Phuket and the sea. The second-floor living room was surrounded by full-length glass with sea views on two sides. The home provided one of the best vistas of the sea of any property in Phuket and seven thousand square feet of living space. A new Supercharged Range Rover was parked in the garage along with the owner''s pride and joy, an unrestored Turquoise and White 1956 Chevy Bel Air two-door hardtop. There was a vacant spot usually filled by a 750Li BMW, but its owner wasn''t happy with the homeowner''s philandering and had recently moved out. After watching the news for almost two hours, hoping to glean more information about Sydney''s past and her rise to the country''s top spot, Shawn finally shut the TV off and headed for the gym in the lower level of his home. Kasem had informed him that Chong Eng had arrived. Normally, he would have worked out for an hour on the weights before training with his Tae Kwon Do Master. But today was different. After only ten minutes of sparing, Eng threw his hands up and said, "I''ll come back when your head''s in the right place. You''re paying me way too much to kick the shit out of you without a fight." Shawn looked at Eng and said, "You''re right. I thought this would help, but I can see it won''t. I''ll pay you for the rest of the day. Why don''t you come back in two days, and I''ll make sure to kick the shit out of you properly so that you can feel like you''ve earned your money." "Now that makes me feel much better. If you don''t mind my asking, does this have to do with what happened in the U.S. yesterday?" Eng had been educated in the United States and was very intuitive. "More than you could possibly know," Shawn replied. ***** After Eng left, Shawn took a shower, and his thoughts turned to Jesse and the last days of the Vietnam War. He was sad that he had never been able to find his friend again. During his heavy drinking days following the war, Shawn often thought about the irony of that last mission with the Rangers. He sometimes wondered if God had heard his prayer that night long ago. But as the years passed, those memories seemed to fade into the fabric of time. Then his thoughts turned to Sydney and the manila envelope he found just before leaving Xuan Loc. After his discharge from the Army and before he went to search for his stepfather, he made friends with a man at a VFW hall in Middlesboro, Ky. The man was a former Military Intelligence Officer and had a very sharp analytical mind. During one night of casual drinking, Shawn asked if he knew anything about encryption. When he told him that he did, Shawn told him about the file he had found and under what circumstances he found it. The man asked if he could look at it. He was intrigued by the story of the file and the author, who had died under mysterious circumstances. Shawn met the former officer several days later over a few beers. After a warm greeting, Shawn handed him the envelope containing the encrypted document to examine. The man first looked at the envelope and the remainder to the torn note at the top. The only thing written on the note was; 04/05/1 The rest of the year was cut off. ¡°Do you have the rest of the paper that was torn off here?¡± the man asked, pointing at the stapled note. ¡°No, that¡¯s just the way I found it.¡± He nodded, pulled the single page from the envelope, and set it on the clean table. He studied the page and the envelope inside and out for any signs of other writing. Finally, he said, ¡°I think what you have here is a book or text cipher. I assume you don¡¯t have the key.¡± ¡°This is all I have.¡± ¡°Do you know who this was being sent to?¡± Shawn looked at him and shrugged his shoulders. ¡°I take it that¡¯s a no. Well, without the key or knowledge of who the intended receiver was, I don¡¯t think I can help you.¡± ¡°Are you saying that it¡¯s impossible to decipher?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t say that it was impossible. You would have to dig into the man who wrote it and find out who it was intended for.¡± ¡°Could someone break it without the key?¡± ¡°Maybe¡­maybe not; it depends. But if I were you, I¡¯d try to find out to whom he was writing this. Because frankly¡­ you¡¯re chances of having it deciphered without the key are Slim to none, and I¡¯m afraid that Slim has packed his bags and left town. Chapter 48 Chapter 48 Shawn needed to look at something that he had long forgotten about. When he reached the garage, he walked over to the corner where he parked the 56 Chevy years ago and removed the cover from the vintage automobile. Shawn smiled when he saw the two-tone turquoise and white car he had driven in high school. He had worked hard to earn the money to buy it. The three hundred and fifty dollar price tag wasn¡¯t much now, but it seemed like a small fortune at the time. After he had the car shipped to Phuket, he thought about having it restored, but that would have spoiled the whole reason for having it. He wanted to remember his origins and how far he had come from the hills of Kentucky. Shawn opened the driver¡¯s door, sat on the bench seat behind the gigantic steering wheel, and looked out through the cracked windshield. It had been years since he had sat in the old car. The interior smelled old and a bit musty; however, to Shawn, it was a good smell. The fabric on the bench seat was worn and faded, yet in relatively good condition. Fond memories came flooding back to his mind of cruising the back country roads with his high school friends while they drank beer and chased girls during the long summer nights. He was considered a rich man now, but the sight of the Chevy brought him back to his roots and the poverty he once lived in. For the longest time, he just sat there reflecting on how things had changed from that sleepy little town in Kentucky to the life he lived now halfway around the world. ***** Shawn eventually climbed out and walked around to the back of the car. He inserted the trunk key and opened it up. He had only looked in the trunk once since it was shipped to Phuket, and that had been many years ago. There, he found a bold, spare tire, a bumper jack, a tire iron, a pair of rusted hockey states, a baseball glove, one baseball and two bats, football shoulder pads, a rusted nine iron, three golf balls, and an army duffle bag. The smell wasn¡¯t pleasant. It was a cross between a boy¡¯s locker room and grandma¡¯s attic. Shawn pulled out the duffle bag, closed the trunk, and went upstairs to the kitchen. Picking through the bag, he couldn¡¯t believe how disorganized he was back then. His uniforms were virtually thrown in dirty. Shirts, pants, socks, and underwear with stains he didn¡¯t want to imagine or guess about. He finally found what he was looking for. He wasn¡¯t even sure that it was in there. But there it was, pressed to the side of the bag. He pulled the envelope out and set it on the countertop. Then Shawn found something that he had long forgotten about. Something hard wrapped in a towel. He reached in and pulled it out. Kasem had just entered the kitchen, and he could smell the dirty clothes. "What the hell are you doing with all those dirty, smelly clothes on my clean countertop?" "Just going through my old army duffle bag¡­no need to get your shorts in a bind, old man." This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. "Well, put them back in the bag, and I''ll wash the whole lot for you if you want," Kasem said, a little less perturbed now. ***** Kasem had been with him for years, and the elderly man was like a father to him. He could scold Shawn all day long, and he would take it. But if anyone else talked to him that way, he would be picking himself off the floor. Placing all the dirty clothing back into the duffle bag, Shawn politely asked Kasem to wash the uniforms but to throw the underwear in the trash. When Kasem left the room, he turned his attention back to the towel. Shawn had no idea what was inside, but out of nowhere, a flood of memories returned to him like a demon in the night. Then he remembered what was inside. Shawn recalled Hung saying something about ancient Kung Fu daggers. He unfolded the towel and looked at the pair of knives. The scarlet silk ribbons were still tied to the rings on the end of the handles, and the color seemed unchanged over time. Shawn was overcome with emotion at seeing the daggers again, and he wondered if Jesse was still alive. He couldn¡¯t believe how painful it was to see what was now in his hands. Now, he wished that he had thrown them away. Setting the knives aside, Shawn grabbed the envelope and stepped onto the balcony to get some fresh air. He sat on the soft cushion on the rattan sofa, removed the encrypted letter from the envelope, and looked at it again with renewed curiosity. He wondered how anyone could decipher this and have it make any sense. Getting up, he returned to the kitchen, where he found his Toshiba Laptop. He flipped it open and powered it up. After a short wait, he logged on and was soon searching the internet on Google Chrome. He entered ¡°book cipher¡± and hit enter at the search line. He was surprised to see that he got 5,450,000 results, and the first entry was for the Wikipedia website. He clicked on the website. Book cipher - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Reading quickly, it took only a short time to read the entire contents. At the bottom of the page, he found the heading "Examples." He clicked on the famous use of a book cipher and decided to look further into the Beale ciphers. When it came up, he spent the next hour and several websites later reading about the man behind "The Beale Papers," a twenty-three-page pamphlet published in 1885 by an anonymous author. The story revolved around an intriguing character named Thomas J. Beale and his three pages of ciphered documents that have intrigued cryptography experts and treasure hunters alike to this day. An hour later, he finally closed his laptop, poured himself a cup of coffee, and walked out onto the balcony. He was fascinated by the Beale Papers and wondered if what he now held in his hands could also be something no one could find the answers to. But one thing intrigued him, and he pondered the possibilities. With renewed interest, he looked again at the torn-off note that was stapled to the envelope. He was obviously writing the letter to someone, but to whom? He recalled talking to Jeffery after finding the envelope, and he remembered that Jeffery thought the only people the man wrote to where his parents. Now he had something to work with, although as much as he tried, he couldn¡¯t recall the spook¡¯s name. Then he pondered another probable scenario. If his parents were the intended receivers, would they still be alive today? And if so, would they still have the key after all these years? Chapter 49 Chapter 49 Shawn went to his bedroom to get dressed. He entered his room and found his old army uniforms cleaned, pressed, and lying on his perfectly made bed. He lifted his jacket and said with a slight chuckle, ¡°No way you¡¯re going to fit into that again, mister.¡± He set the jacket back down, went to his closet, and got something a little larger. While putting on his clothes, he noticed his little Teerak on the balcony, still in her birthday suit, sunbathing on a chaise lounge. She had an iPod in her hands and earbuds in her ears, probably listening to music only someone her age could enjoy. He waved at her and said, "I''m sure that''s not the Oak Ridge Boys." Knowing she wouldn¡¯t respond, she blew him a kiss but kept the earbuds in and bobbed to the music that only she could hear. Even though he had a full-time manager who handled most of the club''s duties, he was still a hands-on owner. Shawn walked back into the kitchen and looked out at the balcony. Kasem was sitting on the rattan sofa, drinking tea. The usually good-natured man hadn''t been himself lately, and Shawn knew why. The man had no other family and was sad that the woman he came to love as a daughter was no longer living there. He sighed and made his way to the garage. Shawn climbed into his Range Rover, started it up, and backed it out. Halfway to the security gate, he heard the old-fashioned sound of a classic 1950s phone ringing. He looked at his iPhone and saw the picture of his club manager smiling at him. He was a bit apprehensive about taking the call after she stormed out of the house, but he knew they had to talk. He pushed answer button and then the speaker. "Kim, what''s up, my love?" Shawn said a little too casually and knew it immediately when there was a long pause on the line. When she did answer¡­she was very businesslike. "I was wondering if you were coming in today; I have some things I want to go over with you." Kim and Kasem had been with him for years. Kim was smart, witty, and still a beautiful woman. But in her younger days, she was a stunning beauty. She reminded him of Madame Chi. ¡°Is there a problem?¡± Shawn said with a slight concern in his voice. ¡°No, everything¡¯s fine, except the usual bickering from some of the girls that can¡¯t seem to get along.¡± ¡°Anything that can¡¯t wait?¡± Shawn asked. ¡°No, just some invoices and things we need to order, nothing I can¡¯t take care of.¡± It pained him that she had been so formal since moving out of his house. ¡°You know you don¡¯t need me to look over your shoulder. You can just pay and order whatever you want.¡± ¡°Thank you. I appreciate that, but I still would like to go over a few things with you if you don¡¯t mind.¡± Kim said without a hint of sarcasm. ¡°Ok, I¡¯ll try to make it in this morning.¡± There was an awkward silence on the line until Shawn asked. ¡°By the way, did you hear about the explosion that killed the President of the United States yesterday?¡± ¡°I just saw it on the news his morning. It¡¯s unbelievable that this could happen with today¡¯s security measures.¡± Just listening to Kim¡¯s soft voice stirred up his emotions. ¡°Why don¡¯t you come back to the house? Kasem has been treating me like shit since you left; he misses you.¡± There was another long pause on the line before Kim answered, but her voice was raised when she did. ¡°Oh, I see¡­it¡¯s Kasem that misses me. And what about you? Do you miss me?¡± Shawn wasn''t good with intimate relationships. Kim was only sixteen when he found her on the streets of Phuket. She had run away from the family who had bought her from her parents at the tender age of twelve. Her family was poor and starving, and they sold their only commodity. They felt that everyone would be better off. They would have food, and their daughter would have a better life with a wealthy family. Sadly, that was not the case. Kim was physically abused by the rich man''s sixteen-year-old son almost immediately. When Shawn found her, she was like a frightened alley cat, ready to strike at anything that got close to her. He charmed her, smoothed out her mangy fur, and gained her confidence. At the time, Shawn was a young part-time bouncer and bartender at one of the busiest clubs on Bangla Road. He took her in, and they remained in a close, frequently stormy relationship ever since. Shawn grew to love her, but he couldn''t give her what she wanted most: a family of her own. Over the years, she was happy just to be with him, but his constant flirtation with the young girls at the club proved to be too much for her to handle. Shawn inwardly sighed, "I do miss you, Kim," Shawn said softly. "Will you please come back to the house?" "So I can watch you entertain all those girls you bring into YOUR HOUSE?" Shawn let out a long sigh, but this one was audible; "They don''t mean anything to me, not like you do. I can''t have a rational conversation with them like I do with you. They don''t understand me like you do." "So why do you dote over them? No, wait, you don''t have to answer that." Shawn was listening, and he just shook his head; "Kim honey, you know I can''t live without you¡­ but¡­¡± "But what?" There it was. Out in the open, and Shawn reluctantly had to answer. "They keep me¡­alive. They make me feel young. That''s all they mean to me, nothing more!" Kim''s response was immediate. "So as I grow old and ugly, you run after these girls who could be your granddaughters just so you can feel young?" "You''re not old and ugly. You''re a beautiful woman, and I miss you. Will you come back to the house tonight?" Shawn said pleadingly. There was a pause on the line. So long that Shawn looked at his phone to see if they were disconnected. ¡°Are you still there?¡± he asked. ¡°If you get rid of any girls you have there, I might come over for one night just so we can talk.¡± ¡°Done, now I have to go and see an old friend; I¡¯ll see you tonight, sweetie,¡± and he rang off. Kim just looked at her phone in disbelief, let out a scream, and threw her phone against the wall. ***** Shawn found Kesam''s cell number and hit the call button. He answered on the second ring. "Did you call to give me some more shit?" Kasam asked. "No, Kim''s coming back home tonight. Can you get rid of that pretty thing lounging on my balcony?" Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Kesam''s attitude changed immediately; "You got it, boss; I''ll take care of it right away." "Great, Oh¡­and Kasem¡­that young lady might not have anything covering her beautiful little body, so try not to peak; I don''t want you to have a heart attack, old man." There was a long pause, and then Kasam said, "Fuck you" in Thai, and then rang off. Shawn chuckled and said, "I love you too, man." ***** Shawn parked his Range Rover in the street in front of the run-down building in a part of town that most tourists never saw. An old gray-haired man with no teeth sat smoking a hand-rolled cigarette on the steps leading to Phuket Investigations second-floor office. Shawn walked by him and said in his native language. "How are you today, Addison?" The old man nodded as he walked by and continued looking into the street. Shawn climbed the dirty stairwell until he reached the second-floor hallway leading to the private investigator''s office door. He rapped on the opened door and walked in. Tim Choi sat behind a cheap wooden desk in an old leather high-back chair. Choi was typing away at his keyboard when he looked up and saw his old friend walk in. Choi and Shawn had worked the bars together in the early days as bouncers when Shawn was fresh off the boat. Choi was a martial arts expert in Muay Thai, the combat sport in many Indochinese nations; called "The art of eight limbs" because it uses hands, feet, elbows, and knees against their opponent. Besides his Private Eye business, Choi owned and ran a Muay Thai training center in Phuket. Choi had shown him how to survive against the street thugs, gangs, racketeers, and corrupt police and politicians. Shawn had learned how to stay alive in military combat, but in the streets of Phuket, it was a much different kind of war, a much tougher war with enemies just as determined as the NVA and Vietcong. ***** "Shawn, you old bastard, you should have called. I would have at least cleaned my office up a little. Can I get you something to drink?" The old Chinaman got out of his chair and greeted his guest with a firm handshake. "You haven''t cleaned this office in years, so why start now! As far as the drink, I''ll pass. By the way, I met Addison down on the steps. Is he your security guard? I know you wouldn''t just leave your door open like that so anyone could come up here and kick your ass like they almost did a few years ago!" Choi laughed! "I don''t have to pay him much. I just hope he stays awake." "He does look pretty menacing, but I''d keep your door closed just the same," Shawn said with a straight face. "Don''t be fooled by his appearance; the man''s a killing machine," Choi smiled. "I think the only things in danger of being killed by him are possibly the bugs that cross his path?" Choi didn¡¯t respond to the jab. ¡°Take a seat and rest your tired old ass.¡± Shawn walked over to a beat up chair and looked at the stack of papers and assorted other crap that was piled up on it. Choi noticed his concern and said, ¡°The cleaning lady forgot to come in this week; just throw that shit on the floor and make yourself comfortable.¡± Shawn complied, although the chair proved anything but comfortable. He moved from side to side until he found a position that was tolerable. Now that the good natured ribbing was over Choi asked; ¡°So what brings you over to my side of town? I¡¯m sure you didn¡¯t come all the way over here to give me advice on interior design or to discuss my security.¡± Choi paused; ¡°Does this have anything to do with what happened in the U.S. yesterday?¡± Shawn knew that Choi was sharp, but was taken aback by his intuition. ¡°To some degree it does. I need your help in locating someone in the U.S. Does your grandson in L.A. still do some work for you?¡± ¡°Yes he does. What do you need?¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to need his assistance in locating a man for me. The bad part is; I don¡¯t know his name.¡± ¡°Ok, that¡¯s a problem,¡± Choi answered. ¡°Actually, the man I¡¯m seeking is dead. He was a young man who worked for the CIA. He was killed in Xuan Loc, Vietnam in March of 75 just before I was stationed there. I actually want you to try and find his parents.¡± Shawn went on to tell him about the circumstances surrounding his death and about the encrypted letter that he found just before he left Xuan Loc. He also told him everything he could remember about what Jesse had told him about his conversation with Dave Sanders in his Jeep all those years ago. Choi listened and took notes as Shawn told him his story. When Shawn finished, Choi said, "Do you think this man''s parents have the key to that encrypted letter you found?" "If they don''t, they don''t. End of story." "Well, I can tell you one thing for certain. I don''t think the CIA will be very cooperative. Have you tried to contact Jesse Taylor? Perhaps he will remember the man''s name." Shawn slowly shook his head, "I''m not even sure if he survived. I tried to find him after my enlistment was up, but I came up empty. Then, as you know, after my incident with my stepfather in Florida, I was forced to flee the country or face trial for murder. Over the years, I often thought about searching for him, but time has a way of stealing away good intentions. Now, it was Choi''s turn to nod. He was fully aware of his legal problems in the United States. In their younger days, and after they had become good friends, Shawn told him the real reason that he had made Phuket his home. "Do you know of anyone else that might know the identity of this nameless agent?" Choi asked. Shawn thought about the question for just a few seconds before he answered. "The only other person I can think of is my former CO. His name is Paul Bennett. He was a Green Beret Colonel then, and I''m sure he''s retired by now." "Do you have any other information on him? His age, or where he was from?" "I think he was a Southern California boy, and I guess he would be in the late 60s to early 70''s." "And Taylor?" "He was from a small town in western New York. He lived on a lake with a funny name. But I can''t remember the town''s name." "That''s ok. Let''s start with this and see what comes up. If you remember the name of the town, let me know." "His Age"` "Around the same age as me," Shawn said with a smile. "Okay¡­so somewhere between twelve and fourteen, but I am leaning toward twelve," Choi said with a tight smile. It took a while, but Shawn finally let out a couple of short chuckles. "Yeah, right, asshole." "Well, I simply couldn''t pass it up. You left the door wide open, Shawn." They spoke for several more minutes, and when Choi was confident that he had enough information to give to his grandson, he leaned forward in his chair and asked a probing question. "Can I ask you why you''re doing this? You just might be kicking a hornet''s nest." Shawn had asked himself that very question many times on the drive to Choi''s office, but for some reason, he had no clear answer. As a Green Beret, he swore to protect and defend the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Now, he had something in his possession that might change the course of a nation. He also had to consider the danger his actions might bring to the ones he loved and cared for. It would be so easy to go back to his life and forget the matter altogether, yet something keeps gnawing at his conscience. He had nothing against Sydney personally. Was it justice, justice for a young man whose life was stolen at an early age? Shawn didn''t know what to say to his friend, so he simply said, "I really don''t know Tim. Maybe the answer will come over time." Choi looked at Shawn and pulled on the few hairs on his chin before answering. Choi liked him from the moment they met and had always been intrigued by the man. He was often cavalier, yet when he needed to count on him, he would give you the shirt off his back. Shawn could be brutally hard at times, yet he had a heart of gold and hated injustice. He was with Shawn when they ran into a group of young street thugs who were harassing Kim. Choi was willing to walk by, but not Shawn. Despite being outnumbered six to one, he took out the first three so quickly that the others made a hasty retreat without so much as looking back at their fallen friends lying on the street. "Time does have a way of reviling things." "That it does," Shawn said with a nod. "I don''t want to put you or David in any danger. So if you want to bow out, I will understand." "I can see where there might be some risk involved. But if something as simple as risk stopped everyone from doing something, nothing would ever be accomplished. I''ll inform David of your concerns and see what he wants to do." "Thanks, Tim; that''s all I can ask. If David decides to take this job, I want to double his normal fee but don''t tell him until he accepts. I don''t want to influence his decision with money." "I will do that. Are you going to double my fees also?" Choi asked half-jokingly. Shawn looked at Choi and started to chuckle. Getting up to leave, Shawn was happy to get out of the chair. It was extremely uncomfortable. The two men shook hands again, and Choi escorted Shawn to the door. "I''ll give you a call when I get David''s decision. Oh, by the way, my other grandson installed some new encrypted email software on my computer and sent a copy to David. He says it''s the best, although he may be slightly biased. He helped develop it, just in case you''re worried about Big Brother." "What?" "The NSA, CIA, or whatever agency they use to spy on people these days." "Are you saying that the United States Government reads emails?" Choi laughed, "What rock have you been hiding under, son? Emails, phone calls, the internet, and every other way people communicate in the world. Why do you think Bin Laden went low-tech to communicate with his minions? Yes, the U.S. Government spies on everyone, including their own citizens, especially after 9/11. You should talk to my grandson; he could tell you things that will scare the shit out of you." "To tell you the truth, I haven''t given it much thought, but what you say makes sense. Thanks, Tim. Oh, and one more thing. Get rid of that chair; it sucks." Choi snickered and said, "I can''t get rid of it. It''s a family heirloom." "Heirloom my ass; that thing will give you hemorrhoids. Keep in touch, man." "I will." ***** When Shawn left, Choi walked behind his chair, looked out the dirty window, and watched as Shawn got into his Range Rover. He wondered if they both were getting into something over their heads. Instead of a hornet''s nest, it just might be something a great deal larger and with a lot more sting. He had been around long enough to know that, despite their ideology and outward appearance, people in power were, with few exceptions, absolutely ruthless. After he pulled away from the curb, Choi sat down and started to type the e-mail. Chapter 50 Chapter 50 David Choi was born and raised in LA. He worked for the LA Police Department, where he was assigned to work in the tight-knit community of Thai Town, the largest Thai population outside of Thailand. Tim Choi¡¯s PI business didn¡¯t range far from Phuket. Still, on occasions, he took business from a concerned spouse or family member looking for a lost or wayward relative in the U.S. David was a young, ambitious man who was always looking to make some fast money, and his arrangement with his grandfather proved lucrative. It was just after midnight when David arrived home after his mid-day watch was over. He knew he had received an e-mail from his grandfather with an attached Word file, but he couldn¡¯t open the encrypted file on his Blackberry. He grabbed a Diet Pepsi from the fridge and powered up his laptop. He opened his Hotmail account and sorted through his e-mail until he found the one from his grandfather. He opened it and was soon reading the attached Word file. He read the entire message, leaned back, placed his elbow on the arm of his sofa, and lowered his head until it was cradled in his hand. He ran his fingers over his jaw and contemplated the warning. He knew that his grandfather wouldn¡¯t warn him without due cause. After a minute, he leaned forward and reread the e-mail. It soon became apparent that his grandfather hadn¡¯t given him the whole story, yet it was enough for him to make a decision. He placed his hands over his keyboard and typed his reply. He decided that he would take the job despite the attached caveat. ***** Finding the Colonel shouldn¡¯t be a problem; the job would bring him some fast cash, which he desperately needed. With his military connections and the internet, he would have this wrapped up quickly. It would be a lot easier if they had names that weren¡¯t so common, but that made it all the more challenging. Not wanting to waste any time, he opened his contact information and found the name he was looking for. The man answered on the third ring, and their conversation lasted only a few minutes. The man had a lot of government contacts, and David hoped he would come through for him. After telling him the names of the two people he was looking for, he started his own search. David decided to start with Colonel Bennett simply because he was a southern California boy and close to home. Because of his age, David doubted that Bennett would be on Facebook or Twitter. He searched anyway. He found a long list of men that matched his name, although none matched the age or profile. Next, he checked one of his favorite people search sites and got several Colonel Paul Bennett¡¯s. None were of the correct age. Then he found a site he had never used before. The site promoted help finding lost military friends through a network serving all branches of the U.S. Military. After signing up and logging in, he came up with a retired General, Paul Bennett, who lived in Oceanside, CA, just south of the Marine Base at Camp Pendleton. The man was of the right age, and from his bio, he had served in Vietnam, although the years weren¡¯t given. Given the fact that he was a Colonel in 1975, he had more than likely moved up in rank. No address or phone number was given other than the city and state. Only an e-mail address was provided as a contact point. David guessed all the contact correspondence ran through that website to screen out all the junk mail and whack jobs. He typed in a quick message. General Bennett I don¡¯t know if you are the correct Paul Bennett I¡¯m looking for? Question: were you a Colonel stationed at Xuan Loc in the spring of 75? A friend Next, he searched for Sergeant Jesse Taylor on the military friend¡¯s website and found several, but none that matched his age or branch of the military in any rank. After he was finished, he put his computer and himself to bed, hoping to get a response from General Bennett soon. One thing he wasn¡¯t counting on, and despite his new encryption e-mail software, the Government Agency that monitors the internet, e-mail, and all phone conversations coming into the country flagged his e-mail from Phuket and was dissecting the new software with intensity. ***** When Bennett first read the e-mail, he thought that his emergency drop box had been compromised and that someone, or some group, was fishing for him. In his line of work, he had made a lot of enemies, and most, if not all, could be very dangerous. Bennett then made several phone calls. The first was to find out the information on the sender, and the second was to verify the information he had entered. Bennett learned that the person had just set up the account, and that person had only left a message for only one person, himself. The man had entered his name as David Choi from Los Angeles and said he had served in the army in Iraq. Bennett then made another call and had his IP address traced to its source. He found that it had indeed originated in Los Angeles. The third call was to find out everything he could about David Choi. One hour later, he got the information that he had requested. The man had indeed served in Iraq and was now a Los Angeles policeman who also held a PI license. He now knew that his inquiry was legitimate, although he still didn¡¯t know why he was looking for him. He decided to do a little fishing of his own. ***** The following morning, David checked his e-mail and wasn¡¯t surprised to see that he didn¡¯t have a reply from Bennett. Sometimes, you get lucky, but not that often. David started to search in other directions, starting with all the people search engines offering to find people for a fee. David¡¯s main problem was the common names of both of his targets. After spending a lot of money, David compiled a list of ten men in California that might be the correct Paul Bennett and sixteen Jesse Taylors in the eastern US in the right age group. David spent the remaining morning making phone calls and running down leads. By noon, he was no closer to either man than when he started. Frustrated, David finally decided to eat something before his midday shift started. After lunch, he rechecked his e-mail. He was surprised that he had a reply from the website reuniting old service friends. The message was from General Bennett. It was short and to the point. ¡°Who are you, and why do you want to know?¡± David sat back and stared at the computer screen. Bingo; he knew he was onto something. David had to tread softly; he didn''t want to lose the man. If it was the correct Paul Bennett, the man would be looking for an answer very soon. He placed his hands on the keyboard and typed. "General, I''m a police officer in LA, and I work with a private detective in Asia who has a client who apparently served with you in Vietnam. This person is looking for you because of recent events in the United States." David purposely left out any mention of the late CIA agent. David wasn¡¯t sure, but he thought it might spook the man for some strange reason. Bennett read the response and was somewhat relieved when Choi informed him that he was indeed an LA cop. At least the man was telling the truth. What puzzled him, though, was that he was working with a PI in Asia. And that the man searching for him had served with him in Vietnam. The list of people who served with him in Vietnam was long, and he needed to narrow it down. At first, Bennett thought it might be a Tiger member because the inquiry came from Asia. But he knew that all the Tiger members had either been killed in the battle of Xuan Loc or Saigon; at least, that was what he had heard. Maybe one of them had survived the war and was now looking for him. Then there was the part about "Because of recent events in the United States." He wondered if it had anything to do with the Mystic bombing. Bennett decided that he needed a little fresh air to clear his mind. He walked out the door of his townhouse, crossed the manicured, palm-lined street, and then onto a walking path that followed the outside of an exclusive golf course. Ten minutes later, he returned to his townhouse to send David a reply. Back at his desk, he sat down and typed. Who is looking for me? Was the man a Tiger? What are the recent events that are you referring to? And lastly, what is your name? I want to know who I¡¯m conversing with. David was about to head out the door when his BlackBerry informed him he had a new e-mail. Instead of opening it on the small device, he turned and looked for his laptop on his coffee table. When he got his e-mail account open, David smiled when he saw that he had a reply from General Bennett. He opened it up and read the short reply. One thing was certain: Bennett was a man of few words. This guy was more cautious than a gazelle at a crocodile-infested watering hole. David had no idea what Bennett meant by a Tiger, so he let the man wait for his reply. He walked out of his apartment and locked the door behind him. He had to give some thought as to how he was going to answer his questions. After his shift was over, he returned home and typed his reply. General Bennett, I wish to remain anonymous for one simple reason: I don¡¯t know anything about a Tiger, and I don¡¯t know the identity of the man who hired my friend. I¡¯m just a middleman collecting a finder¡¯s fee. But I can tell you that I have worked with my friend in Asia for a long time and that he is a highly respected and reputable man. If you are NOT the correct Bennett, just say so, and that will end our correspondence. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Best Regards David knew he had the right man. He only hoped that he wasn¡¯t closing a door. He didn¡¯t understand why he was being so elusive. But when David thought about it, so was he. What he wasn¡¯t expecting was Bennett¡¯s fast reply. We need to talk; what¡¯s your phone number, David? David looked at the message on the computer screen and started to laugh. Bennett must have known all along who he was. When he thought about it, it made perfect sense. A man like Bennett probably had a lot of resources, also. Ok, he must be the right guy and wants to talk. David entered his cell number on the return e-mail and hit send. Fifteen minutes later, his cell phone rang, and the number came up blacked. He answered it anyway. "Hello, this is David." The caller didn''t answer right away. At first, he thought it was one of those telemarketers waiting for someone to pick up, although he knew that wasn''t the case. He knew it was Bennett because the caller ID came in "private." "David, this is General Bennett. It''s been nice chatting with you by e-mail, but I would like some information before we continue. Starting with who hired you and who hired your friend in Asia. And we might as well throw in what country in Asia as well." "General, I can see you''re a man who likes to get to the point. I assume you are the correct Paul Bennett?" No response! "Well, General, is it alright if I call you General?" "That''s fine, please continue." "Well, General, like I said, I''m just a cop doing a side job, and I am a licensed private investigator in the State of California. The man who hired me is my grandfather, and he is also a private investigator. He lives in Phuket, Thailand. As I said, I don''t know the man who hired him, but I do know that they have been friends for a very long time, and my grandfather respects him very much. Other than that, I don''t know much more. I was hired to find several people. That''s all." "Are you also from Thailand?" "No, I was born and raised in LA." "I see, and may I ask who the other persons you were asked to find?" There was a long pause. Then David cleared his throat. "We can discuss that once I''ve established that you''re the Paul Bennett I am looking for." Bennett was growing impatient with the man. "Humor me, please." David didn''t want to give out any information before establishing who this Bennett was. There was a long silence on the line, so he relented. "This may seem strange, General, but the reason this man is looking for you is he believes that you may know the name of a CIA agent who was killed in March of 75 at Xuan Loc. Actually, I was hired to find his parents, but first, I need to find out his name." For a moment, he thought about telling him about Jesse Taylor, but at the last second, he decided against it. "Apparently, the man that hired my grandfather thinks that you would know who he was and, possibly, where he was from." This new information set Bennett back. He had no idea where this was going. But more importantly, one question ran through his mind. Who could possibly want to know this information, and for what reason? "General, are you still there?" David asked. "Do you know why he wants to find this man''s parents? And what connection does it have to do with recent events in the United States?" As soon as the question was out of his mouth, a strange sensation came over Bennett, and he almost didn''t hear David''s answer. David knew the answer to one of these questions but didn''t want to tell Bennett just yet. "I''m sorry, sir, but I don''t have the answers to either question." "Okay, so you''re positive that you don''t have the name of the person that is looking for this information? "No sir, I do not. I only know what my grandfather told me about him, and that wasn''t much other than they had been friends for a long time," David lied. Although his grandfather did not mention his name in the e-mail, David knew who he was. He only had one friend who fought in Vietnam, and he had been to his club and home with his grandfather on several occasions. Bennett''s mind was racing, and the strange sensation was now replaced with something a little more intriguing. He decided that he needed more time to digest this new information. "I think we are done for now, but I want you to do me a favor. I want you to find out who your grandfather''s client is. E-mail me when you have something new, and we''ll talk again. Goodbye, David." "Wait, I have one more question for you." "And that is?" "Do you know the name of the CIA analyst that was killed at Xuan Loc in March of 75?" Bennett inwardly laughed at the question that intentionally tried to force his hand. This time there was no good-bye. The line simply went dead! ***** Gene Emerson had worked at the ultra-modern and very non-descript government facility located at Fort Mead, Maryland, for three years and was a very dedicated young man who believed in his country''s security. The agent looked at the flagged e-mail that had been routed to him and began his work. He was one of many encryption specialists tasked to decipher new encryption software the supercomputer didn''t recognize or could not crack in a very short time. The supercomputer tracked the IP source and destination and listed both in the file. The sender''s IP address was scrambled to hide its location but was easily tracked to its source. Gene knew a lot of tricks to get around the Trojan horses and red hearings, but after an hour, he was no closer to opening the encrypted e-mail than when he started. Then, after another hour, and with the supercomputer''s help, he could crack the encryption software. Gene read the e-mail and was very bored at first. Then he came to one sentence, and his interest perked up. The more he read, the more interested he became. He reread the e-mail with a better understanding of its context this time. Although his job was to break the encrypting, not to analyze it, he felt the content was strange. Yet he knew one thing for sure. It was going to get someone¡¯s attention. Gene gave the file a case number as he did with every encrypted file he broke, placed it in a closer scrutiny file with a median-high priority status, and moved on to his next task. ***** Gene¡¯s manager, Jim Beckmann, divorced and bitter, sat behind a standard-issue government metal desk in a small windowless room with his cheap gray suit jacket draped over the back of his uncomfortable chair. The man had short-cropped hair with a touch of gray at the temples. He was of medium height and very slender, with an extremely high intellect, exceptional analytical skills, and a photographic memory. He also had no people skills. He was the typical government manager. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt that was pressed and neat, although not of any quality and a plain black tie that was too narrow for the latest style. An inexpensive watch with a plastic band was the only item of jewelry the man wore. There was one bookcase behind his desk filled with government books and documents. Not a single personal photo of a wife, dog, or family member was in sight. ***** It was at the end of his day when Beckmann opened Tim Choi¡¯s e-mail to his grandson. Using his National Security clearance, he found only two agents that were killed at Xuan Loc in 75. Beckmann quickly discarded the Sanders file and moved on to Peter Jensen¡¯s. He read the file record twice. What intrigued him was Sydney Perotti¡¯s relationship with Jensen. He had worked directly under her. Beckmann read the investigators¡¯ report on his death over and over again and concluded that it didn¡¯t smell right. The evidence didn¡¯t add up. It looked like a cover-up to him. What also intrigued him was the mention of an encrypted letter in the e-mail but nothing in the reports. Finishing up, he then made a mental note of every word along with the IP addresses and locations of the receiver and sender. Then, he closed the file and marked it completed, needing no further action. At least it would be closed as far as the government was concerned. When he got to his car an hour later, he wrote the correspondence down word for word as he remembered it and placed it in his shirt pocket. ***** Bennett went to the fridge, pulled out a tall bottle of iced tea, then went out on his deck and sat on a comfortable outdoor chair overlooking the golf course. It was a picture-perfect day in Southern California. A slight breeze came off the ocean, and the temperature was comfortable at seventy-two degrees. A fifty-something woman walked by on the sidewalk in a bikini that didn¡¯t cover much. She was walking her tiny white poodle with pink ribbons around its ears and collar. Bennett didn¡¯t pay too much attention to the dog. However, the woman was another story. She had a stunning, perfectly tanned body and was very aware of the fact that she could turn heads of the opposite sex despite her somewhat advanced years. She had moved into the townhouse complex not long ago and had every man in the area drooling over her. Rumor had it that her old man had died having sex with her, although there was no proof to back up that claim. Another rumor was that her old man took too many magic blue pills and had sex without asking his doctor if his heart was healthy enough for sex. That, too, proved to have no merit. Word had it that she was loaded and on the prowl again for another sugar daddy. She looked up and saw Bennett sitting on his balcony and waved at him. He lifted his tea and smiled at her. She smiled back and kept on walking. The woman was absolutely hot, but Bennett¡¯s thoughts weren¡¯t on her for long; his conversation with the LA cop was still on his mind. If he was right, and it had something to do with the Mystic bombing, then there was only one person he could think of who was connected with Xuan Loc. And that person was now occupying the Oval Office at the White House. Bennett was unaware that Jensen had written the letter that Sanders had found, so he had no idea what the connection might be. However, he found it very strange that someone would be looking for the name of a dead CIA agent shortly after the bombing in Mystic and for what purpose. Bennett had seen enough backstabbing and cutthroat politics to know when something didn¡¯t smell right, and he wondered where this would lead. Bennett decided that he needed to proceed with caution. After he had spoken with David earlier in the day, he needed more time to think. Now, as the day was ending and he had no new revelations, he decided to give David a call. ***** David looked at the caller ID and suspected that it was General Bennett again. He answered the call on the second ring. ¡°Hello, General.¡± There was a pause on the line before Bennett answered. He could hear a police radio in the background and was somewhat relieved. ¡°Do you have any new information for me?¡± ¡°As a matter of fact, I do.¡± ¡°Good, but I want to meet with you in person. I don¡¯t want to discuss this matter any further by e-mail or phone.¡± Now, it was David who paused on the line. ¡°Ok¡­when and where?¡± ¡°Are you busy tonight?¡± ¡°I¡¯m currently on duty, and my shift ends very late. I¡¯m pretty much booked up tomorrow, but I can meet you the day after tomorrow around 10 or 11 in the morning.¡± They agreed to meet at a place and time, and then Bennett rang off. Chapter 51 Chapter 51 Al Ali read and listened to the latest batch of e-mails and voice recordings that he had received from his moles inside the NSA and Homeland Security. After an hour, he found several interesting things, although none had great significance. That is until he read the last e-mail. He sat up straighter as he read it for a second time. Nothing in the e-mail was threatening on the surface, yet something told him that it went much more profound. He then reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the file he had on the woman, a file he had compiled over the years. He knew that she had been stationed at Xuan Loc. He just had to confirm the dates. He found what he was looking for almost immediately. The dates matched the timeframe in the e-mail. Without even asking her, he knew she was involved. It was just who she was, for he had proof of that. Al Ali had spent too much time and resources to place her where she was today for someone to snatch that away from him. Unlike Ali, who had something that he could use against her as blackmail, he suspected that the man who was looking for answers in an encrypted document had a much different intent. Ali wished he could take out his cell phone and talk with her, but he knew that wasn¡¯t possible. It pained him to go through channels, yet that was something that he had to do. If what he suspected was true, the document mentioned in the e-mail would have to be recovered, and many people would need to be eliminated. Shawn woke up with a slight hangover and swore off alcohol again for, well, he lost count of how many times. He looked over to the other side of the bed. It was empty. He sat up and was about to hit the intercom requesting a cup of coffee when Kim walked through the bedroom door with a cup of steaming black coffee in her hand. "You look like shit!" Kim smirked. "Thanks, I feel like shit. Was I a bad boy last night?" Shawn said while holding a hand over his forehead. "No, you were quite good for an old man," Kim replied smartly. Shawn grinned and said, "I feel like an old man today. Is that coffee for me?" "Yes, and I brought you something that I''m sure will make your head feel better." "You''re an angel, you know that, Kim." He took the hot coffee and downed the two tablets. "Yes, I know; what did you do when I wasn''t here?" Shawn had no plans on going there. "Tim called twice for you this morning." "Did you talk with him?" "The second time I did. He said he thinks he found one of the men you were looking for. He wants you to call him." "Did he say which one?" "No, just that he wants you to call him." "Do you have my cell phone?" "No, but I have mine," Kim handed him her new smartphone. "When did you get this one?" Shawn said, looking at the brand-new iPhone. "Recently, my old one is in a lot of small pieces." "How did that happen?" Shawn asked skeptically. Kim smiled and said, "It came in contact with a wall while it was traveling at a very high rate of speed." Shawn raised his eyebrows and decided he wasn''t going there either. "Shit, I can''t remember his number; it''s on my phone. I''ll call him after I get out of the shower and have more coffee and breakfast." After his shower, Shawn entered the kitchen. He looked and felt much better. He placed his coffee cup on the grid of the Cuisinart coffee maker, pressed the dispensing bar, and filled his cup almost to the rim. Kasem had his breakfast already prepared and waiting for him with a warmer placed over it and a copy of the Phuket Gazette next to it. Shawn looked around and asked, ¡°Where¡¯s Kim.¡± ¡°Where do you think? She went to the club three hours late. You know, without her, you¡¯d be in the poor house, and I¡¯d be out of a job. Oh¡­by the way, you missed your appointment with Chong this morning. He told me to tell you you¡¯re the best customer he has. He can sit around and drink tea and get paid for it without breaking a sweat.¡± ¡°Next time he comes over here, I¡¯m going to kick his ass up to his elbows.¡± ¡°Sure you are. Just keep telling yourself that.¡± Kasem said smugly. After Shawn finished breakfast and read the paper, he picked up his phone and called Tim Choi. Tim identified the caller and answered on the third ring. ¡°Shawn, I think David found Colonel Bennett. He¡¯s now a retired General living in Oceanside, California.¡± ¡°Did he positively verify that it was him?¡± Shawn asked. ¡°Not exactly; David tells me the man is very guarded. He wants to meet with him in person before he discusses anything. David also wants to know if he can use your name, which I haven¡¯t given him yet.¡± Shawn didn¡¯t say anything for a moment. He knew Bennett to be a very cautious person. ¡°I guess I can¡¯t see any reason¡­..no, let¡¯s see if we have the right Bennett first.¡± The two spoke for several more minutes, and then Tim had another call, so they cut their conversation short. ¡°Thanks for all your help, Tim, and let me know how the meeting went.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll keep in touch.¡± ***** It was another day in the mid-sixties in the beautiful Southern California sunshine. Bennett was sitting on his balcony reading a report and waiting for the hot babe to walk by with her cute doggy when he noticed a white van parked down the street, which he had never seen before. Even though he lived in a gated community, he was concerned because the gate security guards were paid minimum wage and only sometimes that alert. He could make out some lettering on the side door, but the angle and distance made it hard to read. He went back inside, grabbed his Nikon binoculars, and went back out to his balcony. He sat back down and looked down the street. The van was gone. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Then something else caught his eye. A man who appeared to be in his middle twenties was jogging on the walking path across the street and was heading in his direction. He had never seen the man before, and his instincts kicked in. He brought the binoculars up and put them on the man. As soon as he did, the jogger put his face to the ground and dropped down to tie his shoe. Bennett instantly knew that it was not just a coincidence. The man must have been watching him. The next thing he did was raise the hair all over his body. Without looking back up, the jogger pivoted 180 degrees, flipped up the hood on his jogging suit, and started back in the opposite direction. The man was Caucasian with light brown hair and had hard facial features. Despite his jogging suit, Bennett could tell the man was very fit. He watched as he angled across the street and then disappeared when he went around the street corner. Eighty-six hundred miles away, another man was watching Tim Choi¡¯s office building with more than just casual interest. Bennett was startled when he heard a female voice say in a very perky voice. "Hello, General. Are you bird watching, or are you peering at attractive young ladies?" Bennett was rarely at a loss for words, but this was one of those times. He looked down from his balcony at the gorgeous widower on the sidewalk below. She was wearing her skimpy bikini with her little white poodle adorned with pretty pink ribbons at her side. She slowly bent down to pet her little mutt. He wondered if she really intended to pet the rug rat or if she was displaying her assets for Bennett to admire. "I thought I saw someone I knew on the golf course. Nothing more sinister than that, my dear," was Bennett''s lame excuse. The woman put on a pouty face and said, "Oh, I see. And was the person someone you knew?" "No, actually, he wasn''t." "Well, it was nice chatting with you, General; maybe you could join me on a walk someday." The General was taken aback by her invitation and almost at a loss for words again. Was this lovely woman hitting on him? After the initial shock of her question passed, Bennett finally found his tongue and answered. "Yes, I would love to do that, or we could sit on my balcony and have a few beers sometime?" "I would like that very much. Although I''m not much of a beer drinker¡­but I do like wine." "Wine it is, then." "Great, just give me a call." "Aha¡­.I don''t believe I have your number." Bennett stuttered. "Yes, you do." And the hot babe threw him a tennis ball that she had been carrying in her hand. The throw was perfect, and he caught it chest-high with one hand." She smiled and said, "Nice catch, General; call me." Then she started to walk down the sidewalk with her little poodle in tow. Bennett stood and watched her as she walked away. Her nice ass seemed to sway just a little more than usual. She looked back to see if he was watching. She wasn''t disappointed. She gave him a little wave and turned away again, very satisfied with her performance. When she was out of sight, Bennett looked at the tennis ball. It had a yellow ribbon around it with a piece of paper attached. He pulled off the ribbon and read the note. It contained her name and phone number written on pink paper with little red hearts all over it. Then, the scent of an intoxicating perfume drifted into his nose, and at that point, he knew that he was doomed. All Bennett could say was, "You old bastard, what have you gotten yourself into." Despite his thoughts of himself and Miss Hottie under the same sheets together, Bennett¡¯s focus quickly turned back to the jogger and the white van. He put the note on his kitchen counter and picked up his phone. He opened a cupboard door and found the number he was looking for from a list of numbers on a printed sheet. The phone was answered immediately. ¡°Security, Jose speaking.¡± ¡°Jose, this is General Bennett. What can you tell me about a white van that came in today with some lettering on the driver¡¯s door?¡± ¡°Hello, General; the van just left a few minutes ago. They were here to do some work at a townhouse just down your street. Why is there a problem?¡± ¡°What company and what kind of work?¡± ¡°Just a sec, I¡¯ll check the sheet.¡± After a few seconds, Jose came back. ¡°The sheet lists their company as ¡°The Sound Center.¡± They were here to install some stereo equipment at 5400.¡± ¡°Did this check out with the owner?¡± There was a long pause; ¡°He did have a work order with that address, sir.¡± Bennett knew he didn¡¯t make the call and just let the van through. ¡°Was the driver alone, and what did he look like.¡± ¡°The driver was alone, but I couldn¡¯t see in the back. He wasn¡¯t Latino. He was somewhat dark, like he was from one of those countries where we get all of our oil from...or something like that.¡± ¡°Did he have an accent?¡± ¡°General, to me, everyone has an accent, but he did speak good English if that¡¯s what you mean. Is something wrong, sir?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fine. Do you have a phone number or address for this Sound Center?¡± After another long pause, Jose said, ¡°Sorry, General, I don¡¯t have that information.¡± ¡°Thanks for all your help, Jose. If the van comes in again, please let me know right away.¡± ¡°I will make a note of it, sir.¡± Bennett didn¡¯t have a good feeling about the van or the jogger, so he decided to check out the townhouse at 5400. Something just didn¡¯t feel right about his conversation with David, especially when it led to the White House. He had been in the clandestine service business long enough to know that someone might have been listening to his conversation and reading his e-mail correspondence with David or whoever the hell he was. ***** Bennett didn''t know the owners of the Townhouse at 5400. He knocked on the door and it was soon answered by an elderly gentleman who he had seen many times walking on the sidewalk with his wife. The man was about the same age as Bennett and appeared to be in great shape. He was groomed perfectly; not a hair was out of place, and his gray mustache looked like it had just been trimmed. He was dressed in designer clothes and smelled of Old Spice aftershave. The man recognized Bennett immediately as one of his neighbors and said, "Hello¡­ how can I help you, sir?" the man said with genuine enthusiasm in his voice. "Hi, I''m sorry to bother you; my name is Paul Bennett. I live just down the street." Bennett pointed in the direction of his Townhouse. "Can you tell me if you hired a company to do some work for you today? I believe the company''s name was "The Sound Center." The man looked at Bennett curiously and said, "No, we had no such company doing work for us today or any other day. However, I did see a van with that name on the door across the street just a while ago. Perhaps one of our neighbors had some work done." A friendly voice came from somewhere in the house, "Who is it, dear¡­do you want me to come down." The elderly man answered his wife, "No darling, one of our neighbors just has a question, that''s all." "Well say hello for me, and I''ll just keep painting then." "I will do that, sugar." He turned to Bennett and said, "She keeps busy painting and selling her art. She gives all the proceeds to charity. I married a saint, and her art is quite good. By the way, my name is Charles Whitmore, and the not yet canonized saint upstairs is Claire. We''ve been married for fifty years." Charles stuck out his hand, and Bennett did likewise. "Charles, did you see anyone get out of the van? "Come to think of it, I didn''t. Although I did see the van leave, I saw a young man in a jogging suit standing alongside the curb when it pulled away from the curb. Then he started to walk in the direction of your place. Why is something wrong? Do you think they were up to no good?" Charles said with a bit of concern in his voice. "No, I don''t think so. Someone probably got their address mixed up. Thanks for all your help, Mr. Whitmore; "I appreciate it very much." "No problem, I was happy to help. Stop by any time. I''m sure the little woman would love to meet you and show you some of her work." The two men shook hands again, and Bennett said he would like to meet Claire sometime and promised to visit again soon. Outside, Bennett didn''t like what he had just heard and decided to make a call on a secure line. As he walked back to his townhouse, a pair of dark eyes were watching his every move with great interest from the golf course across the street. Chapter 52 Chapter 52 On the third day after her return home, Kim walked out on the balcony to meet Shawn, who was having his breakfast and reading the morning paper. "You look beautiful this morning, Kim," Shawn said genuinely. She looked at him skeptically and said, "Okay, how long did the doctor give you to live?" After a moment of silence and a slight chuckle, Shawn said with some indignity in his voice, "What, can''t I give you a compliment without you doubting my sincerity?" Pretending to be hurt. "Okay, I accept your compliment. Thank you. That was very sweet. Now, just give me a second to check my astrology calendar to see if it''s a blue moon." Shawn eyed her and smiled, "Will you stop? I''m just trying to be nice." Kim bent down, placed one hand on his cheek, and gave him a big kiss, then started to walk back to the house in her tall silver pumps. Just before she reached the glass doors, she turned and said, "You need a shave, big boy," then she smiled and walked back into the kitchen. As Shawn struggled on his next course of action, Kasem walked out and sat beside him with a cup of tea. Neither man said anything for five minutes. Kasem knew something was bothering him. It wasn''t like him to just sit there staring out at the sea for so long without being hung over. He knew it wasn''t Kim, or at least he thought it wasn''t. Finally, after finishing his tea, Kasem asked, ¡°I know that something¡¯s bothering you. Is there anything I can help you with, boss?¡± ¡°No, Kasem, but I appreciate the offer.¡± ¡°Master Chong just passed through the gates; what shall I tell him?¡± Kasem asked softly. ¡°I have too many things to do today. Tell him to come back tomorrow, and I will pay him for today.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll like getting paid for drinking tea again, and I was so looking forward to you kicking his ass today,¡± Kasem said in a light-hearted tone. ¡°Just tell him to come back tomorrow, smart ass.¡± Kasem laughed and said, ¡°Whatever you say, boss.¡± With no further banter, Kasem got up and walked to the kitchen. ***** The simple diversion took just long enough to give the attackers the element of surprise. A man shoved the barrel of his pistol into the side of Addison¡¯s neck before he could alert his boss; seconds later, the three-man team climbed up the stairs leading to Tim Choi¡¯s office. One by one, the men slowly made their way down the narrow, short hallway until they reached Choi¡¯s closed door. The leader held up his forearm with a closed fist to stop the advance. He could hear a man speaking in Thai through the closed door. The leader took out an electronic device, typed in a message, and then hit the send button. The reply was almost immediate. A man across the street was looking through a thermal imaging scope from a third-floor apartment building whose owner wasn¡¯t home at the time. "Target is alone and hasn''t moved. He''s still sitting in a chair close to the window," the team leader heard through his earpiece. There was a slight problem, though. Choi''s door had a pane of opaque glass with his agency''s name on it, and the door handle was on the other side of the door. If he was looking, he would see movement across it. The team leader crossed under the glass panel and came up on the opposite side. Slowly, he tried the door and was pleased to find it unlocked. He motioned to the other members that the door was open and that he was about to enter. The man waited for the phone conversation to end, then he turned the door handle and quickly entered the office, followed closely by his two companions. They all had their weapons pointing at Choi the second they entered. ***** Choi finished his call and slipped his cell phone into his pocket. Next, he closed his laptop and pulled out the power supply jack, for he was planning to leave the office. That''s when the unscheduled visitors entered his office. "Mr. Choi, please leave your hands in plain sight," the leader said in Choi''s native tongue as he cautiously made his way to the front of Choi''s desk. Although the man standing before him spoke perfect Thai, Tim knew he was definitely not a native. The man was Caucasian and appeared to be an American or a Brit. The other two looked Russian or from one of the Eastern Bloc countries. These two were dressed like Euro-trash. One of the men had a face that looked like he had been in a car accident, and his injuries never quite healed right. This man concerned Choi the most. He looked like a killer who took pleasure in his work. His eyes were empty and as black as coal. It appeared that he was utterly devoid of any soul. All three men looked to be in their late twenties or thirties and very dangerous. Choi didn''t pay too much attention to the leader. He was more concerned with the ugly bastard. After looking them over thoroughly, he finally addressed the man. "Please come in and have a seat," Choi said as he pointed to the family heirloom. Mr. Smith was curious about Choi''s seemingly cavalier attitude and wondered if he had somehow underestimated the man. In his long career, most men were not so casual when confronted with a silenced 9mm. He eyed Choi very carefully, then looked at the chair. He reached down, picked it up as if it weighed nothing, and threw it against the wall, where it disintegrated on impact. "I assume you prefer to stand. You seem to have me at a disadvantage in more ways than one. You know my name, but I don''t know yours." Choi said casually and undisturbed by the sight of his chair that was now a pile of junk. The man looked amused, "Very well, you can call me Mr. Smith if you like." "And what do I owe the honor of your visit¡­Mr. Smith? If this is a holdup, I''m afraid you''ve come to the wrong place. I don''t have any cash, although I do have a very nice fake Rolex that doesn''t work half the time. You might consider it some consolation since you''ve gone through all this trouble." Tim said without a hint of trepidation. Mr. Smith''s face remained austere, "that''s very amusing, Mr. Choi. Now, I''m going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to answer them. It''s as simple as that." ¡°Shoot¡­oh¡­I mean your questions, not your very expensive-looking pistol that''s about to scare me to death." Choi said, smiling. The man cracked a thin smile and said, "Someone hired you recently to find several people in the U.S., and I believe his name might be Shawn Harris. One of the men you were tasked to find was Colonel Paul Bennett and the other was Jesse Taylor. Is that a correct statement, Mr. Choi?" Choi said nothing. Smith watched the man with keen interest and got nothing from his stone face. After a moment of silence, he asked. "I want to know where I can find Mr. Harris. I just need to ask him a few questions. That''s all Mr. Choi. If you give us this information, we will be on our way, and you can keep your watch," the man said pleasantly. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Can I ask who sent you?" The big, ugly Russian began to laugh while Mr. Smith remained stoic. "You can certainly ask," Smith said. Knowing no answer was forthcoming, Choi said, ¡°Before I answer any of your questions, I have one of my own.¡± Mr. Smith seemed rather put out, ¡°And what is your question?¡± ¡°Is my associate downstairs unharmed?¡± Mr. Smith shook his head and said mockingly, ¡°What do you take us for, Mr. Choi¡­ a bunch of thugs? Your man is just, shall we say, incapacitated at the moment.¡± Choi looked sternly at Smith and finally said, ¡°You know, I¡¯m just like an attorney or a doctor; I can¡¯t just give out information about my clients without their consent. I have a fiduciary relationship with all my clients, and I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t break that trust. However, I do have a consent form somewhere in my office; if you will, just take a few minutes to fill it out. I¡¯m sure I can have an answer for you in, say¡­about a week. I hope you understand my position.¡± Mr. Smith just stared at him with a stern face. Chio shrugged his shoulders and said, ¡°I take it that¡¯s something you don¡¯t care to do at this time. Now, is there anything else I can help you, gentlemen, with? If not, I have a lot of work to finish today.¡± As Choi was speaking, he tucked his left leg around one of the front chair legs and eased back in his chair slightly, keeping his hands on the desk. At the same time, he raised his right foot into a position under his desk that was hidden from the men. "I was hoping this was going to be easy. But now I see I''ll have to convince you to cooperate with me." Smith quickly raised his silenced 9mm H&K automatic and pulled the trigger. ***** Choi saw the gun come up, and at the very same instant, he depressed a button that was hidden under his desk with his right foot. All three men instantly looked up as they heard the trap door pop open above their heads. A split second later, a canister dropped from a concealed box in the ceiling and landed on the floor between them. Smith¡¯s eyes grew wide as he recognized the falling object. Before any of the stunned men could react, the flash-bang grenade exploded with a deafening roar. As the grenade was falling, Choi had only a split second to react. As all eyes were diverted to the grenade, Choi grabbed his laptop and vanished into thin air. ***** Choi was involved in an investigation three years prior that sent a Bangkok man to prison. Sometime later, two of his associates came by to pay their respects and to exact a little revenge. Even though Choi was much older than the two attackers, he was able to defend himself and put both men in the hospital. He felt he was fortunate that day and vowed not to be in that situation again. He had no idea his precautions after that incident would someday help him escape from some very unsavory and extremely dangerous men. ***** The bright flash temporarily blinded all three men, even though Smith knew what was coming. The loud explosion wreaked havoc on their inner ears, causing confusion and disorientation. Smith finally regained his sight, although he was a little uneasy on his feet. He looked for the bastard that outfoxed them, but he was nowhere to be found. Upon further examination, Mr. Smith found only a splash of blood and a bullet hole through the chair and window pane. The trap door under his chair had worked perfectly, and Choi found himself one floor directly below his office, which he also leased. As planned, he had been pitched backward and landed on a soft mattress after completing a 180-degree backward flip. The chair returned to its original position, and it would appear to anyone in the office that he disappeared without a trace. Choi turned over and looked at his shoulder where the 9mm slug had cut a furrow through his soft tissue. Never being shot before, he was surprised that it didn¡¯t hurt as bad as he thought it would. Then he looked up at the ceiling and saw that the chair was back in its original location. Choi climbed off the bed and made a hasty exit. It was only a matter of time before Smith and his friends would figure out what happened. He decided he needed to get the hell out of the building before that happened. He went to the back door of the building and opened it slowly. He looked to see if anyone was waiting for him, and to his surprise, no one was. Choi made his way out of the alley and was a block away when he jumped into the back of a Tuk Tuk that was dropping off a passenger. He rode in the back of the uncomfortable public transportation for several blocks while making sure he wasn''t being followed before he finally got off and decided it was safe to call Shawn. ***** Shawn looked at Choi''s photo on the screen and hit the answer button. "What''s up, Tim?" "Oh, not much besides getting accosted by three tough-looking goons in my office this morning and taking a 9mm round in my shoulder for not selling you out, old buddy." "What¡­ are you kidding me?" "I wish I was." "You said you were shot. Are you all right?" Shawn said with deep concern in his voice "I''m fine; the bullet just grazed the side of my shoulder. It''s just throbbing now, and most of the bleeding has stopped." "I''m glad to hear that, but why did they shoot you, and what do you mean by not selling me out?" "They wanted to know who hired me to find Bennett and Taylor, but I told them to go fuck themselves in so many words." "They used those names?" Shawn seemed surprised. "Yes, they did, but that''s not all. They asked if you hired me." "What?" "They asked if I was hired by Shawn Harris, although the way they asked it, I think they were fishing." Shawn was taken completely by surprise. He hadn''t heard his real name used in years. Very few people knew his real last name, and Choi was one of them. Fearing that he would be tracked down for the murder of his stepfather someday, he purchased some credentials that gave him a new name shortly after he arrived in Thailand. Shawn never used that new name. He simply went by Mr. Shawn. With this new information, the questions started to spin in his head. He was brought back to earth when Choi asked. "Shawn¡­are you there?" Finally, he blurted out. "Did you tell anyone about our conversation?" "Of course not¡­ I''m sorry, Shawn. They must have tracked me through the e-mail I sent David, but I never used your name. I only told him that I had a client who was looking for the list of people I gave him. So, how they came up with your name is a mystery to me. I still can''t believe anyone broke the e-mail encryption, yet they must have. It had to be the NSA. I could be wrong, but I don''t believe that the people who came to my office were sent by them." Shawn was confused, and he needed time to think. He had no idea how they knew his name, although the fact remained they did. "Did these people say who sent them?" Shawn asked. "I asked them politely, and they pretty much said Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson." "That''s what I was afraid you''d say." "Can you pick me up? We need to talk, and I don''t think it''s safe to go home." "Absolutely, where are you? Have you called the police?" Choi gave him his location and informed him that he had yet to call the police. "Good, we can call the police after I cruise by your office. In the meantime, I want you to call David. I don''t want a repeat of what happened to you." "I already called him. He didn''t pick up, so I left him a voice message and told him about the incident at my office and what the men were after. I didn''t care if the NSA was listening. The cat is out of the bag at this point. I hope they don''t come after him to tie up loose ends. Given the fourteen-hour time difference, I don''t think he''ll get it until the following morning." "Just for the hell of it, why don''t you call him again? I don''t have a good feeling about this." "I will do that." ***** Shawn showed up twenty minutes later and found Choi drinking a bottle of Tiger beer at the open-air restaurant and eating some spring rolls. The establishment''s owner was a good friend of Choi''s, and she had cleaned and bandaged his wound. Shawn wanted to know everything about the men, how they spoke and acted, and the guns they carried. Choi was very concerned about his friend Addison and had repeatedly called his cell phone without a response. They decided to drive by Choi''s office and then to the Mongoose Club. Shawn didn''t want Choi to call the police until they had a chance to see if they could spot any of the men. ***** On the way to Choi''s office, Shawn concluded that the Range Rover would stick out like a sore thumb, so he told Choi to wait in the SUV while he checked out his office from the street. He flagged down a Tuk-Tuk and hopped into a larger four-person unit. He gave the driver two hundred Baht and told him what he wanted to do. The driver agreed, and soon, they were motoring down the street. Everything appeared normal as they approached Choi''s office, and Shawn told the driver to drive by slowly. Then he saw one of the men Choi had described just outside the office entrance. The man appeared to be guarding the door. Something about the man''s eyes told Shawn that he was a killer. Choi had described him perfectly. The man was big, ugly, and looked menacing. His face was scared, and he looked like he had been in a train wreck. Seeing this man, Shawn felt there was little hope that Addison was alive. Anger welled up in him, and energy surged through his body. For Just a moment, Shawn thought about confronting the man, but his better judgment stopped him. He pulled out his smartphone and hit the camera icon. The man hadn''t seen him yet, although that was about to change. The man continually panned the street, looking for any threat. Shawn raised his phone just above his lap as the taxi approached the front entrance to Choi''s office. He pointed it in the right direction and started to shoot. When he was even with the man, their eyes locked. Chapter 53 Chapter 53 David Choi and his partner had a busy night. One armed robbery where a clerk was beaten severely for not giving up the store''s money fast enough, a fight in a bar over a woman that had led to a fatal stabbing, two domestic violence calls, and the rape of a fifteen-year-old girl. He was exhausted when he got home at a little past two in the morning. After his shift, he listened to his grandfather''s voice message several times, and he became very concerned for his grandfather''s safety but not his own, although his grandfather warned him to be very careful. As he approached his door, he thought about e-mailing Bennett to tell him what had happened in Phuket, but he didn''t think it was necessary and decided to inform him in person. He didn''t want to scare him off. After entering his apartment, he removed his gun holster and placed it on his upholstered southwestern garage sale chair. Then he went to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of beer. David walked into his living room and sat on his ugly garage sale matching sofa. He had just set one beer on the coffee table and opened another when he sensed something wasn''t right. Seconds later, his fears were confirmed. ¡°Good evening, David¡­two beers¡­you must have had a very tough night at the office?¡± David spun around when he heard the voice coming from behind him. When he turned, he was looking into the barrel of a silenced pistol, and his gun was way out of reach eight feet away. Just as David was about to answer him, another man stepped into the room. This man didn¡¯t have a gun in his hand, but he was no less menacing. ¡°I don¡¯t know who the hell you are, but get the fuck out of my apartment right fucking now.¡± ¡°Or what, David?¡± the man with the gun asked. ¡°What the fuck do you want¡­money¡­drugs? I don¡¯t have either one. And as you can plainly see, I am a police officer.¡± ¡°Actually, David, I just want to ask you a couple of questions, and yes, I know what you do for a living.¡± ¡°Okay¡­so ask your questions, and then you can leave. And by the way¡­who the fuck are you?¡± Yet David knew full well why they were there. They wanted to know who hired his grandfather because Gramps had given them the slip. And he also knew that they would not leave before he was dead, whether he answered their questions or not. David was fully aware of what happened to Addison and that he would meet the same fate. So, he needed to play along until he figured out how to get out of the situation without getting himself killed. David looked from the gun to the only lamp that was five feet away and made a calculated decision. There was no overhead lighting, and the switch that turned for the lamp was on the wall when he entered. The switch turned on two outlets, but only one was plugged in, lighting the room when he entered. "Was my grand-daddy a little too much for you tough guys to handle? I take it that was your men in Phuket?" David asked, trying to buy some time. The man with the gun wasn''t amused. He moved from behind the sofa to face David man to man. David knew his chances of survival were slim, but he had no other alternative. He was glad he had not removed his radio from his shoulder, although it wasn''t turned on. Just before the man walked around the table that the lamp sat on, David pitched his beer bottle. If he missed, he was dead, but luckily, he hit the lamp perfectly, shattering the bulb and sending the apartment into darkness. David''s window covering was all closed, and no outside light was coming in. Instantly, David dove off the couch and was on the chair searching for his gun. But the impact of David hitting the chair caused it to flip over on its back, dumping David and his weapon onto the floor. Just before David hit the chair, he could hear the sound of two suppressed guns firing rapidly. Not knowing where their target was, the men sprayed the area where David had just vacated and moved to the chair, knowing David would go for his gun. David pulled his service handgun from its holster, jacked a round into the chamber, and returned fire from the side of his chair. He had only fired two shots when he felt his body being hit by multiple rounds. He flipped the switch on his radio and yelled, ¡°Shots fired, shots fired, officer down.¡± He gave his address on Franklin Avenue and continued to return fire. His magazine was just about empty when he saw his door fly open and two dark figures exit his apartment. Fifteen seconds later, he could hear the sirens coming just before he slipped into unconsciousness from loss of blood. ***** Shawn continued to stare at the man as he brought his phone down. There was another lane of traffic and motorbikes parked on the street between them, but the man never took his eyes off Shawn. He finally told the driver to pick up speed and gave him directions to his SUV. The Tuk Tuk driver complied, and Shawn was at his Range Rover a few minutes later. As he climbed out, he gave the driver another two hundred Baht and walked to his Range Rover, where Choi was waiting in the passenger''s seat. A flood of questions entered his mind, and he said nothing when he got in. After a long minute of silence, Choi said, "Well?" Shawn didn''t reply. He just sat and looked out the front windshield. Finally, he said, "I think Addison is probably dead. I saw one of the men you described just outside your office entrance." "Which one?" "The big ugly one that looks like he was hit by a Mack truck; I assume they''re trashing your office. I took a couple of photos of the guy with my cell phone. Here, take a look." Shawn handed him his cell phone, and Choi hit the photo icon. Two were blurry, and two others weren''t bad, but the last one was very good. The camera caught the man looking straight at Shawn. Choi studied the man for a moment, and then zoomed into his face. "He''s one ugly fucker," Choi said. "My thoughts exactly...with your connections, is there any way we can find out who this guy is? This guy must have a record somewhere." "I do have my source with the Thai National Police, and he does owe me a favor." "Then make the call." Choi continued to look at the photos on Shawn''s phone, thinking there were more, when he started to laugh. Shawn looked at him and said, "What the hell are you laughing at?" "You are a naughty boy, Shawn. Who took these?" Shawn grabbed his phone from Choi and looked at the current photo, then scrolled through several more. "Shit, I don''t remember taking these. I hope Kim hasn''t seen them." "Oh, I think you would have known if she had, Shawn. If I were you, I''d delete them right now." Shawn looked closer at one of the photos and said, "Damn, she has a nice ass." Choi looked at his friend with deep concern. "Man, you seriously need to cut down on your drinking!" ***** After Choi finished looking at the photos, he called Captain Dok Tong, a very old friend he had known for years. Choi informed him about the incident at his office, including a description of the attackers, and that the men might still be in his office. Tong and Addison had grown up together, and the Captain was very concerned when Choi told him about his lifelong friend. Before the call ended, Tong asked Choi if he could send the photos to his cell phone or e-mail them. Choi agreed. Shawn listened to the entire conversation, and when the call ended, he said, "I don''t want you to send the photos from my cell. I don''t want the police to have my number." "No problem. I''ll download them to my laptop, send him an e-mail, and attach the photos. Do you have your cable with you?" "I have one in the glove box. Do you have another e-mail account besides your business account?" "I have a Hotmail account that I rarely use. I''ll send him the photos from that." "Good, the bastards may be watching your business account." ***** The ten-mile drive took longer than expected because of the heavy traffic. During the drive, Choi called Addison''s cell numerous times and still got no answer. They arrived at the Mongoose Club, and Shawn led Choi to a secluded table where they could talk privately. Kim brought them some fish and chips, a large glass of Tiger Beer for Choi, and a bottle of Budweiser for Shawn. Kim bent down, kissed Choi on his cheek, and said, "Didn''t I tell you not to hang out with this guy? He''s nothing but trouble." Shawn came back with a smart retort, "Okay, so what''s your excuse, sweetie." As she walked back to her office, she gave him the bird behind his back, which brought a smile to Choi''s face. Kim called a local doctor, and he came by to inspect Choi''s wound. He cleaned and dressed his arm without asking any questions. When he was finished, Kim paid him and brought Choi one of Shawn''s clean shirts she found hanging in his office. It didn''t fit very well, but at least it wasn''t covered in blood. The conversation soon turned to Choi''s client records in his office. "Shawn I''m almost positive that nothing in my office would lead those men to you, but I can''t be sure. I had a break-in about a year ago, and my computer was stolen along with paper files. That''s when my grandson Som set up this laptop for me. As you know, he has a Master''s Degree in Computer Science from MIT. He''s supposed to be an expert on computer security. Talking to him about computers is like talking to an alien from outer space. He set up my laptop with a state-of-the-art disk and file encryption, including the master boot record. He guaranteed me that my computer was hackproof." Shawn looked at Choi with renewed interest, "No disrespect, but why do you need such high security?" "Besides yourself, I do have some very important clients that, shall we say, have very sensitive secrets that they shared with me, and they don''t want this information to get out to the public or the police. Needless to say, I had some angry clients after my computer was stolen last year." Shawn got up to get more beers while Choi tried Addison''s cell again. When Shawn returned, Choi said, "I just remembered something. Som said if someone tried to hack into my computer, he would be able to tell." "Where is Som now?" "His office is in Bangkok, but he''s here in Phuket for the wedding of one of his friends." "Why don''t you call him? I think we need to see him." After finishing their beers, they were in Shawn¡¯s Range Rover again and heading to see Choi¡¯s grandson. He was staying at a local resort with the wedding party. ***** Shawn had never set foot in the Sawasdee Village and was anxious to see it. He had heard some very good things about the luxury hotel. They pulled up to the main entrance and were greeted by a velvet parking attendant who parked Shawn''s SUV in the guest parking lot. A beautiful young woman dressed in traditional Thai fashion greeted the two men with a slight bow as they entered the building and were directed to the lobby. Choi was talking to Shawn, who he thought was right behind him. After asking a question and getting no reply, he turned and saw that Shawn was still talking to the now-blushing woman. Trudging back, Choi practically had to pull Shawn away from the woman who seemed genuinely enamored by the rugged man. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. As they walked to the lobby, Choi said, "You don''t deserve Kim, you know that, don''t you." "You''re not the first person that''s told me that." ***** The resort was spectacular. Its curious mixture of Far and Middle Eastern architecture and d¨¦cor dazzled the senses. Choi¡¯s grandson was seated in the lobby with an attractive young Thai woman at his side. Choi greeted his grandson with a warm handshake from his good arm, and his grandson hugged him before Choi could tell him of his injury. Choi clinched his teeth and took the pain but said nothing about the shooting. Choi then introduced his grandson to Shawn. He extended his hand to the much younger man. The last time Shawn had seen Som was when he was a mere child. To his surprise, his grip was extremely firm. The young man was very handsome and slender. He introduced his girlfriend and asked her to join their other friends for a few minutes while the men talked. On the way over to the resort, Choi informed him that his grandson possessed an IQ that was at the genius level. With this information, Shawn assumed that he would be a major geek'', yet to the contrary, he found him to be very outgoing and charming and a bit of a smart ass. Shawn liked him immediately. "Why don''t we go back by one of the pools and have some refreshments while I look at your laptop gramps?" Som asked. " Shawn and Tim followed Som to a secluded table by one of the three pools. A young man dressed in traditional Thai appeal approached them and took their orders when they were seated. Shawn ordered a Bud while Tim and Som ordered tea. Tim handed Som his laptop, which he immediately opened and started to work. He pulled a flash drive out of his pocket, inserted it in the USB slot, and typed in a few commands. While waiting for their drinks, Shawn asked the young man about the choice of resorts for the wedding. "Som, I''m just wondering why the wedding party chose this resort over the ones on the beach. Don''t get me wrong, this place is fabulous, and I imagine it''s a bit expensive." Som held up his hand, typed something on the keyboard, and then looked at Shawn. "Very simple, the groom''s father is one of the managers here, and he gave us a hell of a rate. And yes, it is expensive." A few minutes later, Som stared at the screen and shook his head slowly from side to side. He typed in a new command, and when new information came up, he said, "That''s interesting," with minimal emphasis, indicating that he was only slightly impressed by what he saw. "What is it?" Tim asked. Som didn''t answer; he raised his hand again and looked at the information streaming in. After he finished his task, he looked at the two men and said, "What have you been up to, gramps. You''ve had multiple attempts to access your hard drive in the past few days. And not just by the garden variety hackers. These people were very good. But the good news is that they weren''t able to gain access." "Well, that explains why they showed up in person," Tim muttered almost inaudibly. "Can you tell where the attempted hacks came from?" Shawn asked." "It appears they came from Russia, the U.S., and somewhere in the Middle East. It''s been a while since I''ve seen this level of sophistication. These people really wanted to get into your computer. They must be very pissed off that they couldn''t get in." "I''d say pissed off is an understatement," Tim said, touching his shoulder. Som was puzzled by his statement and was about to ask why when Shawn piped in. "You said the U.S. Do you know who?" Som pulled another flash drive out of his pocket and inserted it into the P.C. He copied the files he wanted, then pulled out the drive and closed the laptop. "I can''t say for sure, but my first guess would be the NSA. I''ve seen this same footprint before, and they are very good at covering their tracks. I just don''t have the right tools to do it right now. I will take a closer look at this when I get back to my office. I have some tools that might trace this back to the source." Shawn asked, "Can you tell when the first attempt was made to hack into his computer?" "Yes, I can...exactly one week ago today. Did you e-mail or talk to anyone in the U.S. about that time?" Tim nodded and said, "I sent an e-mail to your cousin in L.A." Som wanted to ask him what was in the e-mail, but he knew it was none of his business. "You sent it to David? Did you encrypt the e-mail before you sent it?" "Of course, I sent it to David and used the encryption program that you installed. Do you think the NSA was able to read it?" "I know it''s none of my business, but was there something in that e-mail that would have caused these people to want to gain access to your computer?" Tim looked at Shawn without answering his grandson''s question, and Som noticed the apparent connection. Shawn didn''t want anyone else involved in this dangerous game they were playing, so he shook his head ever so slightly when Som looked away. Undaunted, Som said, "I see that the e-mail was sent very soon after the bombing in Connecticut that killed President Roberts. I''ve heard it said that, for the most part, the NSA only monitors countries that have known terrorist organizations. Perhaps the timing is just a coincidence, but I think the U.S. Government is casting a much wider net to find those responsible, and you just might have gotten caught in that net. I can tell you for a certainty that the NSA has supercomputers that can break almost any e-mail encryption, although I didn''t think they could break mine. I have to admit now, I might have been wrong." Shawn said, "I can understand the NSA, but that doesn''t explain the other hackers." Som shrugged his slender shoulder and said, "I don''t know about the Middle East, but Russia has some of the best hackers in the world. Perhaps the NSA has some on their payroll." Shawn came back with a question, "Is there any way that the hackers can physically find him?" Som ignored his question and looked at his grandfather with a concerned look, "Is there something that you want to tell me, gramps? Are you in some sort of trouble?" Tim wanted to ease his concern and immediately said, "Nothing I can''t handle." Som wasn''t buying it, "Are you sure there''s nothing that you want to tell me?" "No¡­ I think it''s just a little misunderstanding. That''s all." Tim said with a straight face. Som still looked troubled and said, "Ok, you''re a big boy. I''m sure you can handle it." ***** Now, to answer your question, Shawn. The answer is no. Not if he stays off the grid. By that, I mean he can''t use any electronic device that they can track him with. Every computer has an IP address, and when you''re connected to the internet, you can be traced to your location with the right equipment. I put a scrambler on this computer, but anybody with half a brain can still trace you to your location. I put it on just as a formality to keep people who don''t even have half a brain from finding you. The same goes for his cell phone. Besides the U.S. Government, almost every country in the world has a version of StingRay that can track a person by his cell number." "What if his cell phone is turned off?" Shawn asked. Som shrugged and said, "It all depends on the phone. Are you still using that old-school flip phone of yours, gramps?" Tim nodded quickly and said, "Yes, I am." "Well, in that case, no. All he has to do is pull the battery or the SIM card out. If he had one of the new phones with GPS, they could track him even when it was powered off, and the GPS was turned off. Or if you had a Faraday case, they can''t track you. It blocks the signal." Som answered. Som wondered why Shawn was asking all the questions and finally turned to look at Shawn, "Does this little misunderstanding also include you?" Shawn decided that he had to tell him the truth. "Yes, it does. I hired your grandfather to look into something for me. It didn''t have anything to do with the bombing in Connecticut, but I think it is definitely connected. From what you said, I think these people tracked his computer to its source. Because they came to his office about two hours ago, these people are looking for me, not your grandfather. But they don''t know who I am, so they came after him to find me. They shot him because he wouldn''t give them what they wanted." Som''s jaw dropped, and he looked at his grandfather, then back to Shawn, then back to his grandfather. "WHAT THE HELL¡­they shot you? Where exactly?" "In my shoulder, it''s just a scratch¡­ nothing serious," Tim said nonchalantly, as if getting shot was an everyday occurrence for him. "Gramps, you''re getting much too old to be playing Sam Spade, although it''s more like Charlie Chan in your case. Why don''t you just retire and play checkers or mahjong like ordinary people your age?" Som said with a slightly raised voice. Shawn started to chuckle, and Som shot him a look and said, "And you keep quiet." Shawn held up his hands, "Me? I didn''t say anything." Tim spread his hands and said, "I don''t think I''m ready for retirement just yet. Besides, I don''t like checkers or mahjong, for that matter. Being a private eye is much more fun." "Yea¡­and much more dangerous," Som shot back. Shawn didn¡¯t want to get involved in the family feud, so he got up and got another beer. When he returned, he found both men drinking tea without any conversation, telling him they hadn¡¯t reached a settlement. Obviously, both men were headstrong. Shawn sat back down, and Som was the first to speak. "My grandfather told me what happened in his office, and I read the e-mail he sent David. I know you didn''t have anything to do with the bombing that killed President Roberts, and I''m not going to ask you why you hired him, although I think I can guess from the contents of the e-mail. I understand he will stay with you until this matter is resolved. Is that correct?" "Yes, he is. I got him into this, and I think that I can protect him better than the police, who I don''t trust, by the way." Som had tried to talk him out of staying with Shawn, but he wouldn''t budge, so he relented that it was a done deal. Now, he had to help them the best way he could. "Fine, now I need to help you stay off the radar. Gramps, I know you have a landline in your office. Has Shawn ever called you on it?" Tim shook his head again, and Shawn said, "No, I only called him on his cell." "Good; now, do the people who are looking for you have your cell phone number?" Tim knew they could find him on his contacts if they had Addison''s cell phone, but he had no idea if he had had it with him that day. Half the time, he left it at home, and when he remembered to bring it, it often needed to be charged. Tim had set him up with it, but Addison was old school and hardly ever used it, and he rarely checked his messages. "I can''t say for sure, but I don''t think so." Then Tim went on to explain why. "Well, that''s good. Who''s your provider?" Tim gave Som his cell phone provider, and he immediately powered up his iPad mini and connected to a nearby Wi-Fi that wasn¡¯t the resort. He easily bypassed the Wi-Fi¡¯s security password, and within five minutes, he was inside his cell phone provider¡¯s main frame and looking at Tim¡¯s call log. Som was also one of the best hackers in the business. Som turned the small device toward Shawn and asked, ¡°Which number is yours?¡± Shawn was blown away by the speed at which he accessed the site. Now he was looking at his cell number and the numerous times Tim had tried to call Addison. "That one," Shawn said while pointing at his cell number. "Alright, I''m going to do two things just in case they have your number. First, I will remove all of Shawn''s incoming and outgoing call history as far back as a year and my number. I could just as easily remove all his call history, but I don''t want them to know that his history has been tampered with. This would lead them to look at the backup server, and I want them to do something other than that. I''d like to see if anyone else has accessed his records lately. This should only take a minute to find out, so bear with me." Less than a minute later, Som said, "Ok, I removed the history, and it looks like no one else has accessed his records. Now, I will change your personal information to make it harder for them to find you as easily as I did. If they have your cell number, they can still track when you''re using your phone. When this is over, I can switch the information back." When Som had completed changing Tim''s information, he asked Shawn if he wanted him to change his personal information also. "That won''t be necessary. Nothing is tied to my name." Shawn said flatly. Som raised his eyebrows but wasn''t even fazed by this. He knew that his grandfather and Shawn had been good friends for decades, but he had never told him much about the man. Som quickly decided not to push it. "No problem, but now I want to give you some advice." Shawn was pleased that Som was able to remove his number from Choi''s call records. He didn''t want anyone looking in that direction. However, he had taken precautions long ago to protect his assets and his true identity. With the help of a sharp and somewhat shady attorney, everything he owned was in a corporate name, starting with the first small club he purchased, which he still owned and leased. Everything was legal, and nothing was in his actual or assumed name; it was in Kim''s. His cell phone, internet, and everything else was tied to the corporation. He didn''t want Kim and Kasem to be left with nothing if he was ever captured and returned to the United States to stand trial. ***** After Som rejoined his party, Shawn sat back in his chair and took a long drink from his beer while his mind processed all the information he had just received. It now appeared that the NSA had indeed broken the e-mail encryption; there was simply no other possibility. The fact that they used his name spoke volumes or were they just fishing as Choi suspected. Besides his drinking buddy at the VFW and possibly Jeffery, only one person could possibly know that he had the document, and that was Sydney. He suspected that Jeffery must have said something to her about their conversation just before they left Xuan Loc. He wondered how Sydney got wind of it so soon, and if indeed she had, would she use someone in the government to question Choi, or would she use one of her many contacts from her days at the CIA. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense that she would use someone or some group other than a government agency. That would explain the attempted hacks by someone in Russia, the Middle East, and the men who showed up at Choi¡¯s door. Tim decided to call Captain Tong before pulling the battery from his cell phone. When Tong''s phone started to ring, Tim got up and walked away from a group of people who had sat down close by. He went to the bar, where no one could hear his conversation. Shawn followed him, took a stool at the opposite end of the bar, and ordered another beer. The call lasted only a few minutes, and Shawn could see Tim''s facial expressions change during the conversation. He suspected that it wasn''t good news. After the call ended, Tim said nothing and pulled the battery from his phone. He placed his elbows on the bar and lowered his face into his hands. Shawn gave him some time, then walked over and sat beside him. "I''m sorry for getting you into this mess, Tim." Choi just shook his head. Finally, he looked up and said, "It''s not your fault Shawn. David and I took this job knowing there might be some danger involved." "Did they find Addison?" Shawn asked, although he already suspected the answer. Tim nodded. "He was tied to my desk chair. His throat had been slit, and it looks like they tortured him before he was finally killed." When Shawn heard this, he was filled with sorrow. He let out a sigh and shook his head. "I''m so sorry, Tim; Addison was a good man. But I promise you this. If I come across those bastards before the police do¡­ I''ll kill every last one of them." Shawn''s sorrow had now turned into rage. Tim had never seen him look like this before. He looked like a caged wild animal. In their younger days, Tim had seen Shawn in many fights. He was never angry; he was just a fighting machine. Now, he saw something different that had probably always been there under the surface, just waiting to erupt. Chapter 54 Chapter 54 Mr. Smith wasn¡¯t easily impressed, but he was very impressed by the escape device that Choi had deployed. The flash-bang had given the man just enough of a distraction for him to escape. With Choi gone, they had no choice but to search his office for clues as to who hired him. After a long and extensive search, they had found nothing until one of Mr. Smith¡¯s men, who was searching Choi¡¯s bookshelf, found a stack of photos stuffed inside a cigar box. "I think I might have something," the men said. "Yea, what is it?" Mr. Smith asked while continuing his search in a stack of paper piled on the floor. "I found some photos, and a couple caught my interest." "Hand them all to me," Smith said as he walked over to the man and held out his hand. The first two photos proved interesting, but the rest he threw on the floor after a quick scan. He studied the people in the pictures very closely. One was Tim Choi, sitting at a table with an older white man drinking beer in what looked like a local watering hole from the bar in the back of the photo. The second photo was of the same two men with an Asian woman standing between them with a brilliant smile. The woman was quite a bit younger than the two men and very attractive for her age, Smith thought. The photos appeared to have been taken recently as Choi looked approximately the same, although Smith knew that could be deceptive. He looked at the back of the photos for any writing or time stamps. He found none. The Caucasian man looked big, chiseled, and tough, and Smith looked at his face intently. This man seems to be the right age. The man could have been a tourist from anywhere in the world, but Smith doubted it. He believed the man to be local and probably the man they were looking for. At last, he had something to go on. Late the next afternoon, Mr. Smith found the identity of the man and woman in the photo after showing it to a waitress in the second bar he entered. The man was the owner of the Mongoose Club, and the woman was the manager of one of the most popular nightspots in Phuket. He asked her if she knew where the owner lived. That¡¯s when the girl became suspicious and drew the line even though she knew the answer to his question. Smith walked into The Mongoose Club at four in the afternoon and immediately recognized the bar in the photo. He walked to the exact spot where the photo was taken, sat down at the same table, and picked up the menu. The night action had yet to start, and the club only had a handful of customers. A pretty girl approached his table and asked if he wanted something from the bar. Smith ordered a coke, and when the waitress returned, he asked, "Is the owner or manager in right now?" "Why is something wrong?" the waitress asked. "No, I''m doing a story on Phuket nightlife for a magazine I work for, and I just wanted to ask either one of them a few questions." "Wow, you''re a writer¡­what magazine do you work for?" Mr. Smith wasn''t expecting that question and quickly said, "The New York Times." He realized his mistake as soon as it escaped his lips. The girl looked puzzled for a moment and said, "Isn''t that¡­a newspaper?" "You are absolutely correct, my dear. I write for a travel magazine that isn''t well known but is owned by the New York Times. "Oh¡­Okay¡­the manager is working in her office right now. I could ask her to join you if she isn''t busy." "Is the owner in?" "No, he doesn''t come in until the show starts around eight. The manager runs the place, though. So I guess she''s the one you want to talk to." "Does the owner come in every day?" The girl laughed, "No, not every day¡­ actually, I haven''t seen him for a couple of days." "Can you see if the manager has a few minutes to spare?" "Sure, I''ll ask her right now." A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. It was only a short time before she returned. "I''m sorry; she doesn''t have time for an interview right now. She asked for your business card and instructed me to tell you to make an appointment and she would try to accommodate you." ***** Christopher Bell sat with two White House staff members at his favorite table at the Old Ebbitt Grill and waited for their orders to arrive. The waiter had discreetly passed him a note with a new password to an e-mail account where he could access a draft waiting for him. After lunch, he accessed the account on an untraceable computer, which was not linked to him or the White House in any way. He read the draft, printed the photo, and deleted the file. Sydney''s former aide and now the White House chief of staff knew that the President was alone, and he entered the Oval Office having called her moments before. Sydney had replaced the former President''s furnishings and was sitting, with her legs crossed, on a plush cloth sofa, reading her daily briefings when he walked in. She glanced up momentarily, and then continued reading without saying a word. Chris quietly sat opposite her on a matching sofa and waited patiently for her to address him. Bell had graduated at the top of his class from Princeton University, where he received a master''s degree in political science. After college, he applied for several aide positions with various senators and congressmen. No one was impressed enough to hire him until he met the Secretary of State at a dinner party. Bell knew the woman was beautiful but was stunned when he saw her close up. She was not only beautiful, she was gorgeous. He told her he was looking for a job, and she smiled and asked him to send her his resume. A few days later, he entered her office. She was reading his resume and mission statement. She looked up and watched him walk in. Bell felt her eyes surveying his entire body like she was inspecting a fine piece of art. When she arose from her desk, and they shook hands, he felt a surge of excitement like he had never felt before with a woman and was totally surprised when all she said after their hands parted was, "When can you start." From that day forward, he knew he would do anything for her. Sydney was dressed casually in a pair of Ralph Lauren white slacks and a blue and white striped nautical top. Her calendar was free that morning, and she was going to play a round of golf at the Andrews Air Force Base golf course when she finished reading about the troubles in the country and around the world. Sydney was an avid golfer and had a handicap in the low teens. She learned the game from her father at an early age and had played on some of the finest courses in the world. Chris ran his eyes over the President''s body as he waited for her to finish. Women were attracted to powerful men, rock stars, and sports celebrities like bees to nectar, and Bell was drawn to Sydney for the same reason. When they were making love, he felt empowered by the simple fact that he controlled the most powerful person on the face of the planet, if only for a short while. He felt a rush, not by the sexual excitement, but by the power he wielded while he was in her arms. Despite the fact that she was now the President and their time together had to be more discrete, she always found time to be alone together working on essential matters of the United States Government. As he watched her, he noticed that her facial expression had changed rapidly. When she finished reading the brief, she tucked it under her arm and asked Chris to follow her into the President''s Study. Sydney placed the leather-bound PDB on the small desk, sat down, and then pointed to the sofa, indicating to Bell that she wanted him to sit. "What did you want to see me about Chris?" she asked. Bell handed Sydney a grainy black and white scanned photo and said. "I just received this photo from Thailand. They want confirmation that the man in the photo is the person of interest that we''re looking for." Sydney looked at the photo and said, "Do you know how they obtained this?" "I understand that it was taken from the office of the PI that was hired to find Bennett and Taylor," Bell answered. ***** Sydney studied the three people in the photo until finally concentrating on the man on the far left. Many years had passed since she had seen him. He was much older and broader. His short hair was now long and wavy, and his face was much fuller and covered a week''s worth of facial hair. Despite all that, it was him, the man she had always had a bad feeling about. After she had burned down the Jensen''s home and barn, she thought about waiting for Harris to return to his hometown in Kentucky. She intended to kill him outright. Somehow, she knew that her seductive skills wouldn''t work on him. The way he looked at her, a look that said, "I know who you are bitch. I can see right through you." Besides, she simply didn''t like him. But after the months passed, she felt she was in the clear and decided against it. Now, she wished that she had carried it out. Bell asked, "Is that him?" Sydney held up her hand, silenced him, and started to reason again. One thing became apparent: Harris suspected that she was involved in Jensen''s death. She knew he had no way of proving it without deciphering the encrypted letter she now knew he had in his possession all this time. She had no idea how he got it, but that didn''t matter. What mattered was that he had it. Now, she had to get it back and destroy it. She was sure she had taken care or people who held the key to unlock the encryption. If Zedekiah Jensen had the key, it was now just a pile of ash. What worried her was that Jensen''s old-school encryption could possibly be broken by today''s supercomputers. She thought it was ironic that what Al Ali held over her could now be trumped by Harris. A little man with absolutely no power compared to the man who had visions of conquering the world. She started to laugh at this thought. Now, he had to recover the document and eliminate anyone involved. He had to protect his investment and his dream. Chapter 55 Chapter 55 "What did you say your name was again, young man? I need to enter it into our guest list before you can see Zed." The elderly administrator asked. "Kenneth Nielson, ma''am, I''m with the Minneapolis office of the Department of Veterans Affairs. Ken flashed the woman his fake credentials, which she had just glanced at. "Oh yes, you said that already, didn''t you. I try to remember the names of people when they first tell me, but you know, most of the time, I forget right away, and then I feel foolish when I have to ask them for their names again. Have you seen those people on TV who can remember the names of an entire audience? I don''t know how they do it. It must be some sort of parlor trick. Heaven''s sake, I have trouble just remembering one. Oh my, I''m just babbling on, and I''m sure that you are a busy man. If you will follow me, I''ll direct you to where Zed likes to sit." "Thank you, ma''am; I would appreciate that very much." "Please call me Virginia, ma''am. Sounds so old-fashioned." "Oh, by the way, you just missed Zed''s wife," Virginia said on the way to see Zed. "She comes here every day and sits with him. They have been married for such a long time. He doesn''t remember her, but she sits and talks to him just the same. You know, Alzheimer''s is such a terrible disease. I hope someone can find a cure for it someday." The man looked a bit surprised. "Virginia, how long has Zed had Alzheimer''s?" Virginia stopped in her tracks. "Almost eight years ago now¡­ I would think that you would have that in your files, Mr. Nielson." "Oh yes¡­ you certainly are correct, but I recently inherited this case and haven''t had time to fully read the entire file¡­my apologies." "No need to apologize, young man. I used to work for the county, and I know how much bullshit there is in local government. Pardon my French. There must be a whole lot more working for the Federal Government." "You have no idea," Nielson replied. Virginia introduced Zed to Mr. Nielson and left the two alone. The man asked Zed a series of questions and quickly departed the care home without saying goodbye to Virginia. Mr. Nielson couldn''t stand the smell of nursing homes and couldn''t wait to get the hell out of there. ***** Despite Sydney''s insistence that Jensen''s parents were at a dead end, Ali informed her that he needed to be sure. The old farmhouse had been replaced years ago with a new modern rambler after a fire had consumed the home. The new house had solid floors and made little noise as the two intruders moved swiftly to Mary Jensen''s bedroom. At a little past midnight, Mary woke with a start. She sensed someone in her room. Mary sat up in bed and looked around. She was relieved to find that she was alone. Her heart rate began to slow, but she screamed when a lamp was turned on across the room by her vanity. Mary pulled her comforter over her chest and said in a trembling voice, "Who are you? What are you doing in my bedroom?" "I''m sorry if I startled you, Mary. I know it''s late, but I just need to ask you a couple of questions, if you don''t mind." The man''s voice was very soft and suggested no malicious intent. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Mary''s mind hadn''t processed his answer, so she asked again, "Who are you, and what do you want. I don''t have much money in the house." Mary said nervously and a bit more forcefully. "Who I am is of no consequence¡­ I just want answers. That''s all." For the first time, she noticed that the man wore surgical gloves and had a slight British accent. Then, a noise came from somewhere else in the house. The man noticed her reaction and said, "That''s just my associate. He''s here to see that we''re not disturbed while we chat." "Why are you wearing those gloves?" Mary''s heart was pounding, and she had difficulty getting her words out. "Nothing sinister, I assure you. If it will make you feel better, I will take them off." He slipped off the gloves and placed them in his shirt pocket. "Now I''m just going to sit in this very comfortable chair and ask you some questions. I promise that if you give me the right answers, we will be on our way, and you can get back to sleep." "Okay," Mary said, although she didn''t believe him. "We know your husband was in military intelligence and that your son Peter worked for the CIA during the Vietnam War. This question is very simple, Mary. Did they communicate with each other using encrypted letters while Peter was in Vietnam? Mary was stunned by the question. "That all happened so long ago. Why do you want to know about that now?" The man seemed a little agitated by her response. He put his head down briefly, then looked up and said, "Mary, I''m going to ask the questions here, and you''re going to answer them. If you don''t, you will force me to do something that I don''t want to do. Now, do we understand each other, Mary?" The man said in a not-so-subtle tone. Mary started to cry softly and said, "Yes," just above a whisper. "What? I can''t hear you, Mary." "Yes, I understand," Mary said a bit louder. "Good, now please tell me; did your husband and your son communicate with each other using encrypted letters when Peter was in Vietnam?" Mary nodded and said, "Yes, they did. Zed and Peter did write some letters to each other using some sort of encryption. It was simply a game to them, nothing more. Zed would decipher his letters and read them to me. There was nothing in them that compromised his job or our government. They were just about his daily life and how he missed his family, the hardships of Vietnam, and the seemingly endless war. They would try and stump each other with the codes; nothing more sinister than that, I assure you. Zed''s job in the Army was to intercept enemy messages and decipher their codes. What Peter was involved with, I can''t say because I simply don''t know. I don''t know any more than that. What does this have to do with anything today? This happened a very long time ago." The man considered this for a minute, "Do you still have any of these letters or any other material they used to communicate with each other, like code books or keys? Perhaps a log book?" "No, they were all destroyed when our home caught fire and burned to the ground in 1975." "What type of encryption did they use, and did your husband share this with anyone else besides you?" "I''m sorry, I don''t know, you''ll have to ask my husband. He''s the only one that would know." Mary said nervously. The man''s jaw tightened, and his face turned red. "Mary, you know very well that Zed can''t answer any of my questions, now don''t you. I went to see him today after you left the nursing home today. I understand that you take very good care of him. I wish I had a wife as loyal as you. So you see, that''s why I''m asking you these questions and not him." Mary became very frightened and said, "I''m sorry, but I don''t know anything. If I did, I would tell you." "Very well, now I only have one more question, Mary. Do you know of any other person your son wrote to while he was in Vietnam, a friend or girlfriend, perhaps someone from college?" "Mary shook her head, "None that I know of, and Peter never had a girlfriend that we were aware of." Mr. Nielson seemed a little more satisfied. He asked her a few more questions and then called his associate in a language Mary had never heard before. The man entered and never looked at Mary. Finally, Mr. Nielson stood and slipped on his gloves. The two men spoke briefly in the same foreign language, and then Nielson got up and started to leave the room without saying another word. Sensing her doom, Mary asked Nielson one final question. "Can you at least tell me what my son was involved in that brought you here today?" Nielson turned and looked at the old woman. Finally, he said, "That question I will answer. He got involved with the wrong person, Mary." Mary said nothing more, and then Mr. Nielson turned and left the room. Despite his profession, he was a little sad but had no choice. His employer wanted no loose ends. She looked at the man who had stayed behind. After Nielson left, he finally looked at her and smiled. Without saying a word, he slowly started making his way toward her bed. Mary was paralyzed with fear, although it didn¡¯t stop the tears from running down her cheeks. Chapter 56 Chapter 56 Kasem watched in anger and amazement as Shawn pummeled the Tae Kwon Do Master. Every move that Master Chong threw at him, he blocked and countered with hard punches and kicks to the head and body. Then Shawn started to divert from the classic Tae Kwon Do to mixed martial arts with devastating effects. Chong was bleeding from the corner of his mouth and from a cut above his left eye. Kasem had seen enough and stepped in to protect his friend just as Choi entered the room. "I think he''s had enough punishment for today. What the hell is wrong with you?" Kasem said angrily. Shawn was taking out his rage and frustration on his training partner, and it wasn''t until Kasem stepped in that he realized he was out of control. "I''m sorry, Chong, I let my emotions get away from me. Please forgive me." Shawn said with genuine regret. "I''ll live. You fight pretty good for an old man. I guess I earned my money today." Chong sat down and rubbed his bruised ribs. Despite wearing a mouthpiece and headgear, Chong''s face was not pretty. Choi, who had just returned from checking his e-mail and voice messages, walked over to Shawn and sat in a chair beside him. "You want something to drink?" Shawn asked. "You got any Tiger down here?" "In the fridge behind the bar, help yourself." ¡°Your lips bleeding.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± After Choi returned with a bottle of Tiger, Shawn asked, ¡°So, were you able to get a hold of David?¡± Som had told Tim to turn off his cell phone and only turn it on to check his messages and make short calls. When he did this, he wanted him to drive ten minutes away from where he was staying and never turn his cell on in the same location. The same was true for his laptop, which Som actually didn¡¯t want him to use at all. Choi sat down and took a long drink before answering. ¡°No, I just got his voicemail again. I¡¯m beginning to worry about him.¡± ¡°That makes two of us,¡± Shawn replied with genuine empathy. ¡°I did, however, connect with Captain Tong again. They found the Toyota Hilux the assholes were driving. It was reported stolen yesterday. Everything inside was doused with bleach. Obviously, they didn¡¯t want the police to find any fingerprints or DNA. But I do have some good news. It seems that the bastard that you got a picture of is a dangerous man. In fact, not long ago, he killed four people in Prague and tried to kill several others. He was arrested, but he escaped with the help of some friends. They also killed a police officer in the process. His name is Ivan Rakov. He¡¯s wanted for various crimes in at least eight countries, including the U.S. He¡¯s Russian and has a long criminal record. They don¡¯t know who he¡¯s currently working for, but he¡¯s a hired gun, mostly for wet work.¡± ¡°He sounds like a charming fellow.¡± Neither man said anything for a while. They just sat and contemplated this new information. Choi got up and pointed at the near-empty water bottle in Shawn¡¯s hand. ¡°You want something a little stronger?¡± Shawn simply nodded. Choi returned with two beers and sat back down. After After a long pause in the conversation, Shawn finally rubbed his beard and asked a question, speaking mainly to himself, ¡°Who are these fucking people?¡± ¡°Captain Tong also said that the Royal Thai Police was sending a task force to Phuket to find these men. It would be a feather in their cap if they could capture this man.¡± ¡°Do they know how they got into the country with guns and sound suppressors?¡± ¡°He said these men seem to get in and out of countries without any problem. His guess was that this team had flown into the country below radar surveillance or had come by boat somewhere close to Phuket. He said they may have had assets already on the ground.¡± ¡°That¡¯s certainly a possibility.¡± ¡°He also said that they may have already left the country.¡± ¡°Oh, I hardly believe that. Their mission wasn¡¯t finished. I think they¡¯re still looking for us. Apparently, I have what they want, and they are not going to stop until they get it or until we¡¯re both dead.¡± ¡°I was thinking the same thing, but I was trying to cheer you up,¡± Choi said. ¡°Thanks¡­ but it didn¡¯t work,¡± Shawn said as he took a long pull from his cold beer. ***** Bennett felt like a schoolboy as he walked home. The night had been perfect. Miss Hottie had made him lasagna from scratch, one of his favorite meals. A Dean Martin CD played on her Bang and Olufsen sound system, lights were dimmed, and scented candles were lit. She wore a low-cut, short white dress that was almost radiant in the candlelight. At one point in the evening, she dropped a table knife, and she bent down to pick it up, and her full breasts nearly fell out of the provocative dress. She looked up and blushed when she found him staring at her twins. She slowly placed her hand over the area in question and continued her quest for the knife with a smile. The lasagna was perfect, as was the salad, bread, and wine. After dinner, he helped her pick up the dishes, and she directed him to her couch, where she snuggled in next to him with another bottle of wine. They watched an old classic movie from 1934, It Happened One Night, with Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert. They kissed often, and both were just content to hold each other and watch the movie that was produced in a simpler time. During the evening, his cell phone rang several times, much to the dismay of Miss Hottie, and he finally shut it off. He wasn¡¯t about to spoil his evening for any reason. It had been too long since he had been with a woman. Especially one as beautiful as the woman he was with tonight. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. After the movie ended, Bennett thanked Miss Hottie for a wonderful evening and informed her that he had an early appointment the next morning and regretted that he had to leave so early. She walked him to the door, then she moved into his firm body and kissed him goodnight. After an awkward moment of silence, she told him that he was an impeccable gentleman and that the evening was perfect, but the next time he came over for dinner, she would also make him breakfast. He smiled and said, ¡°That sounds wonderful.¡± Then he kissed her goodnight. It was just after midnight, and Bennett was walking past Charles Whitmore''s townhouse when he heard someone call out his name. It was Mr. Whitmore, sitting on his balcony with a drink in his hand. "Nice night for a stroll, Mr. Bennett; you care to join me for a nightcap? The saint is visiting her sister in Virginia, and I hate to drink alone¡­ unless, of course¡­ if I''m forced to, which is sometimes the case, old boy." Bennett laughed and said, "Yes, it is a beautiful night, but I''m afraid I''ve reached my limit, sir, although I appreciate the offer, Mr. Whitmore. Goodnight, sir." "Goodnight¡­oh, by the way, I saw that van again. It didn''t have the same company logo on the door. The logo was for a plumbing company, yet I''m almost positive it was the same van. It was parked just down the street from your place. I saw two men get out, and then the van drove away sometime later, but I didn''t see the man get back in. I called the guard, and he told me the van had sighed out after doing a plumbing job." "How did you know it was the same van?" "It had a dent just behind the rear wheel by the taillight housing, and the same streak of blue paint was visible on both vans." Bennett thanked him and continued on to his townhouse. He wondered if the man had been mistaken about the van. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Work vans tend to get battered, yet Whitmore was positive it was the same van. Bennett knew that something was wrong. In his line of work, there was no such thing as a coincidence. What was also bothering him was the fact that David had missed their appointment, and repeated calls and e-mail messages went unanswered. He finally called the LA police, left his name and number, and said he was concerned. A short while later, his Captain called and asked Bennett about his relationship with the officer. After giving the man a brief summary, the Captain informed him that David had been involved in a shootout the previous night and was in the hospital in critical condition. Dismissing the van, his thoughts soon returned to Miss Hottie and her offer. As he approached his door, he noticed that his neighbor¡¯s party was breaking up, and his neighbor was walking some of his quests out to their cars. Bennett looked up and saw his wife still with a few friends on their balcony. He greeted his neighbor, who also asked him in for a nightcap, and he turned him down with the same dialog that he gave Mr. Whitmore. Walking to his front door, he turned his cell phone back on and checked his call log. He had several missed calls, three voice messages, and a half dozen text messages. With too much on his mind, He checked the text messages first and listened to the voice messages. He decided to return the calls and text messages in the morning. Nothing appeared to be urgent, and the calls originated at 3:00 AM on the East Coast. Besides, he had too much on his mind to talk rationally with anyone. He was smitten. Bennett fumbled with his keys for a moment before he found the correct one. He inserted the key into the lock and opened the door. He set his keys and cell phone down on the entry hall table, entered his five-digit code that deactivated the security system, and then made his way up the stairs to his bedroom after resetting the alarm. Normally, the lateness of the evening and the wine would have let him slip into bed and be sound asleep in seconds, although that wasn¡¯t going to happen tonight. He couldn¡¯t get Miss Hottie off of his mind. Bennett hadn¡¯t been with a woman in years, not that he didn¡¯t have many opportunities. He just liked living alone without complications, but tonight, being with this woman changed him in a way he didn¡¯t think possible. When she pressed her body next to him, a surge of pleasure shot through him. Her soft touch on his chest and face was so amazingly pleasant. Her lips were so soft and sweet that he thought he was in a surreal dream that he never wanted to wake from. Bennett had been married and divorced twice, yet no woman had ever made him feel this way. He felt alive and totally intoxicated by her. She was like a drug, and he craved more. An hour later, he was still lying in bed thinking, when he heard something downstairs. It was the front door opening. It had a distinctive creek in just one spot. Then he heard it again. Someone must have closed it after they entered. He looked at the bedroom clock. It was 12:55. The intruder had only sixty seconds to deactivate the alarm. Bennett wasn¡¯t going to wait for it to go off. His hand slowly reached for the phone on the nightstand, and he plucked it out of its cradle. He sat up and punched in 911. Nothing, the landline was dead, and his cell phone was downstairs on the entrance table. The sixty seconds passed without setting the alarm off, and Bennett knew he was in trouble. He was fully awake now and quietly slipped out of his queen-sized bed. He slowly opened his nightstand drawer and pulled out his 9mm Sig Sauer P226. He set it on the nightstand, then quickly made his bedding and extra pillows appear like a lump sleeping under the covers. He stopped and listened for a moment. He could make out faint footfalls coming up the stairs. From the sound of it, there were two men, although he couldn¡¯t be sure. They would be at his door very quickly. Bennett quietly tiptoed to his walk-in closet a dozen feet away, partially closed the door behind him, and waited. Bennett had no delusions that these intruders were merely burglars. He knew these men were professionals. Over the years, he had made a lot of enemies, both foreign and domestic, and many of them would like to see him dead and rotting in hell. Yet something told him that it had something to do with the LA cop that he was supposed to have met but was a no show. He was well aware that the chamber of his Sig was empty, but he didn¡¯t dare pull back the slide and chamber a round just yet. Even the slightest noise might give him away. The closet was pitch-black, and he could make out the bed from the ambient light coming in through the single window. Most of the effects of the wine were gone now, although he still wasn¡¯t as sharp as he would have liked. His heart was racing. He tried to slow his heart rate, control his breathing, and focus on the task at hand. It had been years since he had seen combat, and the rust and wine crept into his subconscious. He could see the slight outer edge of a light now, probably a small penlight at the end of one of their weapons. The bedroom door was open, and the first man moved into the room like a ghost. Moments later, he was followed by a second man. They were dressed in black from head to toe, and he could tell they were probably wearing vests. Then, the first man slowly raised his silenced H&K MP5. A millisecond later, the bed covering erupted as if it were alive as it was stitched with dozens of 9mm slugs from the automatic weapon. Bennett jacked a round into the chamber of his Sig when the man fired but didn''t return fire. He waited. He could see the bedding shudder under the barrage of bullets shredding the material and leaving the air filled with the smell of cordite and puffs of bedding floating in the air. When it was over, one of the men said, "That was bloody brilliant," as he moved to the edge of the bed. When the man got next to his bed, Bennett got a good look at his outline silhouetted against the window, and he lined up the gun sights on the man¡¯s head. Chapter 57 Chapter 57 Jesse¡¯s cell phone rang, and he looked at the caller ID and noted the time. It was just after 10:47 PM. He wasn¡¯t surprised at the lateness of the call. General Jackson, the co-founder of the company he worked for, often worked late. He found a convenient place to pull over his GMC Tahoe, and when he finally came to a complete stop, he hit the answer button and said, ¡°Taylor.¡± ¡°Do you have a minute? We need to talk.¡± ¡°Yes, sir, I¡¯m in my car, but I¡¯m pulled over. What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°I just got off the phone a short while ago with the Deputy Director of the CIA. Their assets in Thailand got a heads-up from someone in the Thai National Police. It seems the man you had a close encounter with in Prague appeared on their radar. Ivan Rakov and a small group of men, who have yet to be identified, attempted to question a man named Tim Choi in Phuket approximately three days ago. Choi managed to escape, but they killed one of his hired men after they interrogated him. Shortly after his escape, he took a photo of Rakov outside his office and sent it to someone in the Thai National Police. From the photo, they positively identify Rakov as one of the men involved. Mr. Choi rejected their protection and went into hiding. Apparently, he doesn¡¯t trust the police.¡± While his boss filed him in on the events, Jesse mentally ran through the list of men at his disposal. There were few. Almost all of them were on assignments. He assumed that the Deputy Director had offered his assets in Thailand the assignment to either eliminate Rakov or capture and interrogate him. However, it soon became apparent that neither was the case. "Did Mr. Choi give the police any indication as to why they wanted to question him?" "The police report was sketchy. Apparently, the men were trying to find out who hired him for a job he had recently accepted, although the report didn''t elaborate on what it was. The assets looked into Mr. Choi''s background for a possible motive and found that he''s a small-time private investigator with some interesting clients; however, nothing in his past raised any serious alarms. They were also able to obtain Choi''s phone, e-mail, and internet search records from his providers. The assets sent all the documents to Langley to try and find a motive behind Rakov''s visit. The director told me that Mr. Choi''s e-mails were encrypted with extremely good software that few governments and fewer private companies or enterprises would be able to decipher. Because Rakov had been in our crosshairs since he allegedly was involved in killing one of our U.S. diplomats in Germany several years ago, the director personally requested the help of the NSA to break Choi''s encrypted e-mail only to find that all of his e-mails, along with IP addresses, had already been broken several days before the incident in Phuket and given a medium-high priority status by the technician that worked on it." Jesse raised his eyebrows. ¡°Okay, you¡¯ve piqued my interest. What was in the e-mails that gave it that status? I gather from our conversation that it had something to do with Rakov¡¯s visit to Choi¡¯s office. And if that¡¯s the case, how were they able to get this information?¡± ¡°At this point, we¡¯re unsure if the e-mail had anything to do with Rakov and his friends questioning Mr. Choi. It could have been an entirely different matter, although the timing is suspect. I¡¯m not going to elaborate on the status of the e-mail or speculate on how they got their hands on it if, indeed, that¡¯s why they paid a visit to Mr. Choi. But I can tell you that he sent the e-mail to his grandson in LA. I¡¯m going to let Director Clayson expand on these points tomorrow. I have scheduled a meeting with him at Langley at 0- 900 tomorrow to discuss this and several other things we are working on, so I hope you don¡¯t have any plans?¡± ¡°Nothing that can¡¯t be rescheduled.¡± ¡°Good, but now I want to tell you the interesting part of this whole little story. The director hopes that YOU will have insight into all of this, and frankly, so do I.¡± ¡°You mean what happened in Prague?¡± ¡°No¡­your name was in the e-mail Choi sent to his grandson. Whoever hired him was looking for you.¡± Jesse immediately wondered if someone was targeting him in retaliation for an operation he had been involved with. ¡°Okay, you¡¯ve got my attention. But are you sure that it¡¯s me? Jesse Taylor is not an uncommon name.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure there were not that many who were stationed at Xuan Loc in 75.¡± Jesse was extremely surprised to hear this, and his thoughts of retaliation quickly vanished, ¡°No sir, I¡¯m fairly certain that I was the only one.¡± The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°And besides yourself,¡± they were also looking for a General Bennett, but in the e-mail, Choi wrote Colonel Bennett. I placed a call to him tonight. He didn¡¯t pick up, so I left him a message for him to call me as soon as possible. Perhaps both of you can make some sense of this. I¡¯m going to send you the e-mail correspondence. Call me after you have time to digest it because there¡¯s a lot to think about, and frankly, I don¡¯t know where this will lead, and I don¡¯t want to go into tomorrow¡¯s meeting blind. Now I have another call to take unless you have any more questions?¡± ¡°No sir, I don¡¯t, and after I read the correspondence, I hope to have some answers for you.¡± ¡°Good, call me when you have something.¡± ***** Ten minutes later, Jesse pulled into his driveway at his Fairfax, Virginia, home when the e-mail arrived on his phone. He quickly walked into his den after stopping to grab a can of Coke out of his frig and powered up his laptop that was sitting on top of his mahogany desk. He logged onto his secure government website and found the e-mail the General had sent at the top of the list. He opened it and downloaded the encrypted PDF attachment. Hello David, I hope all is well with you. I¡¯m doing fine. Are you still seeing that same girl? If so, you should marry her, she seems very nice. Jesse quickly skipped through the rest of the personal dialog until he got to what he was looking for. I have a job for you if you¡¯re interested and have the time. Because of the recent events in the U.S., I have a client who is looking for the parents of a CIA analyst who was killed in Xuan Loc, Vietnam, in March of 75. I believe you know who I am referring to, but I don¡¯t want to use his name. I was told that his death was under unusual circumstances. My client has in his passion a letter that he believes was penned by this man just before he was killed and that it would identify his killer. The problem is. The letter is encrypted, and he believes this man¡¯s parents hold the key to unlock it. Another problem is my client doesn¡¯t know the name of this man. I know you have some government connections, but it might be hard to get any information from the CIA unless you have a direct contact there. If not, my client knows of two other people who can possibly identify this man and, hopefully, where his parents live. The first man is Colonel Paul Bennett. Bennett is believed to be from Southern California, although he¡¯s not positive, and the 2nd man is Staff Sergeant Jesse Taylor from somewhere in western New York. My client doesn¡¯t know if these men are still in the army, and their ranks were from 75. Both of these men were Green Berets who served together in Vietnam back in 1975. Bennett would be in his late 60s to early 70s, and Taylor is mid to late 50s. But before you decide to take this job, I need to give you a little warning. On the surface, this looks very benign, but it is far from it. This letter could be very damaging to someone very high in the US government, and that person would not want this to see the light of day. As a precaution, I am not using my client¡¯s name. You know who may be listening. As a result, some people may try to protect this individual at any cost. If you take this job, you may want to tread lightly because of where this may lead. Let me know if you¡¯re interested. Take care, young man. TC He read the first e-mail, and he pushed himself back in his chair with a slightly bemused look. Thinking back, a flood of memories from his last days in Vietnam overwhelmed him. He recalled the conversation that he had with Dave Sanders and the letter he was reading while the two were sitting in his Jeep. He recalled that Sanders was going to turn the letter over to the CIA Station Chief Tom Polgar when he returned to Saigon. But that must not have happened. Jesse decided that he had to make a phone call. He did not know how to contact the man, but he had resources that did. Ten minutes later, his cell phone rang. The conversation with Tom Polgar lasted only ten minutes, but he learned a great deal in that time. He had no way of knowing that Dave Sanders had died by sniper fire the same day he and Shawn made their last fateful recon trip with the Tigers and that he had not received any letter from Sanders as Jesse described it to him. Now, he wondered what happened to the letter Sanders had put in his pocket. If Sydney had put his things together after he was killed, and he was fairly sure that she would, then she must have found the letter in his pocket. And if that was the case, why didn''t she turn it over to Polgar? That could mean only one thing. She was somehow involved in Jensen''s death. Now, there was only one man who had knowledge of the encrypted copy of that letter, and that man was Shawn Harris, and he had no idea why he was living in Thailand. After Jesse¡¯s post-surgical recovery at Bethesda, Colonial Bennett informed him of Shawn¡¯s problems in Florida and the subsequent warrant for his arrest following his stepfather¡¯s death. Shawn had called Bennett to thank him for putting in a good word for him, but he turned down his offer of help with his legal problems and his offer for a job. When Jesse had fully recovered, he reached out to Shawn¡¯s family in Middlesboro, Tennessee. No one would tell him anything about Shawn¡¯s whereabouts other than that he had gone to Florida. He had simply vanished. As he leaned back in his chair, Jesse had another thought. Who hired Rakov for this job? Was it because of the e-mail Choi sent to his grandson, or was it on an unrelated issue Choi was working on? There was another possibility. Someone or some group was monitoring Choi¡¯s e-mail and had the capability to decode his encrypted e-mail. That was highly unlikely. He had a lot of questions but very few answers. Hopefully, he will find out more after his meeting tomorrow. One thing was sure of. He didn¡¯t believe in coincidences. In the subsequent e-mails, Jesse learned that David had accepted the offer and had located General Bennett in Oceanside, California, through a veterans search website. Jesse let out a little snort when he learned that the now-retired General was reluctant to talk without knowing more about the person seeking him. He also learned that Bennett had set up a personal meeting with David. After he read this, he quickly picked up his cell phone and found Bennett''s number. Maybe the man who now employed him had a few answers. Chapter 58 Chapter 58 Bennett had no shot at the assassin¡¯s legs, and he didn¡¯t want to take a chance the man had on a vest, so he took the only option left to him, a headshot. He didn¡¯t want to kill the man, yet he was left with no alternative. He put the sight in the center of his head just as he reached down to pull the covers off the bed. He held the gun steady against the door jam and squeezed the trigger. Bennett knew he had hit his target because the man cried out in pain. Wasting no time, he quickly turned the gun on the second man and started firing. He started high and worked his way down the ladder as he fired four quick shots before the man returned fire with his MP5. He didn¡¯t have to wait long. The door jamb started to disintegrate next to his head as the rounds from the intruder''s machine gun tore through softwood and plaster. Bennett hit the floor and tried to duck into the short corner beside the door. The man¡¯s MP5¡¯s clip was soon empty, and the shooter stopped to reload. Bennett took the opportunity to stick his gun around the door jamb and get off another five shots. As the fifth shot exited the barrel of his Sig, the man had finished reloading and started firing again. Ducking back into the corner, the wall he was leaning against started to vaporize. A slug finally caught him, and he knew that he would be dead if he stayed where he was. He dove back to the farthest corner of the closet and waited for the killer to come around the corner. An eerie silence suddenly filled the room, and a dead calm invaded the bedroom. Finally, he heard a clip drop to the floor and a new mag being inserted into the weapon. Bennett sat with knees up and his Sig in both hands resting on top of them, hoping to make the smallest target possible. When he came, he came fast. The man flung the door open and suddenly appeared as a shadowy outline in the open doorway, firing the MP5 even before he came into view. Bennett could just see the outline of his head, but it was just enough. The handgun bucked in his hands, and the man fell to the floor, still firing the weapon as he stitched a line of holes up the wall and into the ceiling before the clip ran out. Then, all was silent again until he heard sirens coming in the distance. Bennett placed a hand on his t-shirt and strained to plug the hole that was leaking out blood at an alarming rate. He tried to stand, but the task proved too much, and he slumped back to the closet floor. The room suddenly felt like he was in an ice locker, and a strong sense of nausea gripped him. He could feel a darkness creep into his soul like a spider spinning its web across a window pane. Seconds later¡­he was gone. ***** Bennett sensed his body moving. He wasn¡¯t quite sure if he was dead and his spirit was leaving his body or if he was still alive and dreaming. Nonetheless, his body seemed to be floating. He hoped it was the latter because he felt he wasn¡¯t quite ready to meet St. Peter or, for that matter, his counterpart. He could hear voices, but they didn¡¯t appear to be angels¡¯ voices; they were too harsh. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s going to make it,¡± one of them said. Then he did hear the voice of an angel, an angel that was crying. It sounded just like his dinner date, Miss Hottie, but the other voices seemed to drown her out. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Please take care of him. Please don¡¯t let him die,¡± the voice was pleading. He didn¡¯t feel any pain or anything else for that matter, just the sensation of drifting. Then, all of a sudden, everything went calm. ***** ¡°What have you got, Pete?¡± asked the man in a black suit standing at the entrance of Bennett¡¯s bedroom. ¡°We got two DOA wearing bulletproof vests. Both are Caucasian and look to be in their thirties no IDs, visible scars or tattoos. The unlucky bastard by the bed over there took one just below his jaw, and it took out his windpipe. Probably took a while for him to die. The second one looks like he got off a shitload of rounds. I counted at least two used clips and one still in the assault rifle. He was hit twice in the vest and once in the leg. But the kill shot was right between the eyes. It looks like the fucker got hit and then stitched the ceiling after he was dead. His finger was still locked around the trigger.¡± ¡°What about the homeowner?¡± Pete shook his head, ¡°40/60, maybe less. He took two slugs, one in the arm and the other in his chest just below his right lung¡­ he¡¯s lost a lot of blood. I¡¯m told he was an Army General¡­Green Beret¡­he probably was a tough old bastard. I hope he makes it.¡± ¡°Yeah, me to Pete; maybe he can fill us in on who the hell had a hard-on for him.¡± ¡°Well, from the looks of the firepower they brought¡­ it was definitely a big one.¡± ***** Bennett¡¯s phone rang, but he didn¡¯t answer the call. It was still relatively early in California, and Jesse hoped they could talk. When he didn¡¯t answer, he left a message for him to call back as soon as possible. He knew he was talking with David Choi and wondered what he had told him. He didn¡¯t mention his name, or Bennett would have called him. He then called General Jackson, told him of his conclusions, and made a request. The next morning, Jesse woke early and checked his voice messages and e-mail. Bennett hadn¡¯t called, and that wasn¡¯t like him. Because of the time difference, he decided not to call again. Instead, he sent him a text message. He found that he had another e-mail from General Jackson with an attachment. The e-mail was sent at 3.14 A.M. and Jesse wondered if the man ever slept. He hoped it was the information he had requested and he wasn¡¯t disappointed. He quickly opened the attachment and sifted through the reports. The first was a list of people that Tim Choi had phone contact with soon after the assassination of President Roberts. He learned that it was a landline and that only about a dozen calls were coming in and going out. No one on the list was remotely familiar to him, and almost all the names were Thai. Jesse suspected Choi had a cell phone, but it was not listed in the report. He wanted that number because he was sure the person who hired him had called him not long after the assassination to set up a meeting. If he could get the cell phone records, he would have the man that hired him. So before he went any further, he called a man who could hack into any computer system and made a request. That completed, he next found and read the official investigation report on Jensen¡¯s death. It hadn¡¯t changed. That wasn¡¯t surprising, but what he saw next was. The two people who knew Jensen the best were both dead. Jeffery Emerson died from complications of AIDS in 1998, and Seth Clawson died in 1985 in a parasailing accident. The report on Shawn Harris was what he expected. There was no address for Shawn anywhere in the U.S. No social security, federal, or state taxes were withheld by any employer. No veteran or social security benefits were paid out, and Shawn hadn¡¯t filed a tax return since he was discharged from the Army in April of 1975. Chapter 59 Chapter 59 Jesse arrived at Langley fifteen minutes early. He was dressed in blue jeans, tan deck shoes, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a navy blue blazer fashioned by Brooks Brothers. He had met Tony Clayson many times and was very comfortable around him despite his gruff and often hard, no-nonsense nature. Jesse was escorted to the meeting room, and as soon as he extended his hand, the CIA director did the same. The director gripped his hand firmly, looked into his eyes, and smiled. General Jackson entered the room on time, and after a few more greetings and handshakes, the meeting started. They all took their seats at a rectangular conference table polished to a high gloss, and Clayson asked his aide, John Best, to pass out the prepared folders. A minute later, the meeting officially started when each man had a thick folder marked with the usual warning in bold letters. ¡°First of all, thank you, gentleman, for coming in on such short notice. I know you both have busy schedules, so I will get to the point and try to get through this as quickly as possible because we have a lot of information to cover. I was hoping to have General Bennett with us on a conference call this morning, but we have been unable to contact him. Major Taylor, I understand that General Jackson has filled you in on everything that transpired in Phuket several days ago and that you¡¯ve had time to review the documents he sent you last night.¡± Jesse cleared his throat and nodded, "Yes, sir, I did. I studied the e-mails last night and was initially very perplexed by what I read. So I called and spoke with Tom Polgar, the CIA Station Chief in Saigon in 75. He was able to clear up a very important fact for me, and I will get to that in a minute. As you know by now, the CIA analyst who was killed at Xuan Loc was Peter Jensen. The key was finding out that the official report of his death hadn''t changed. It may not make sense to you now, but it will in a minute." For the next fifteen minutes, Jesse informed them about the chance meeting he had with Dave Sanders in his Jeep that last fateful day in Xuan Loc and everything he could remember about their conversation and the letter that was in Sanders''s hand that was marked with letters and numbers above each word, and the page that was sticking out of the manila folder that just contained letters and numbers. Jesse told them that he now believed that Shawn Harris had the encrypted copy of that letter and that he had hired Tim Choi to look for Bennett and himself. Clayson leaned forward and placed his hand under his chin in thought. No one said anything until Clayson straightened up and said, ¡°So you never read this letter, and Sanders told you that it was not signed by anyone and that he believed it was written by Peter Jensen because he found it hidden in his room that was previously occupied by Jensen. Is that correct?¡± ¡°Yes sir¡­That is correct.¡± ¡°And from what Sanders told you, he said that the letter implicated Jensen¡¯s killer, but he didn¡¯t tell you who it was.¡± ¡°Yes, sir. I asked him who he believed it was, but he would not share that information with me. That is when Sydney and Jeffery pulled up in their Jeep, and Sanders quickly folded the letter, placed it in his pocket, and put the manila envelope in the cargo hold.¡± ¡°And the only other person you shared this information with was Corporal Harris on your last recon mission, where you were wounded and flown back to Saigon for surgery?¡± Jesse nodded and said, ¡°Yes, sir¡­that is also correct.¡± ¡°Have you spoken with Corporal Harris since that day?¡± Clayson asked. ¡°No sir, I have not.¡± Then Jesse went on to explain Shawn¡¯s troubles with the law and his subsequent disappearance. Clayson was silent for a minute, then asked, ¡°Do you believe the official report of Jensen¡¯s death?¡± Jesse took a sip of water to clear his now dry throat and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know of anyone that was stationed there that did, sir.¡± ¡°So, who do you think killed Jensen?¡± Clayson asked as he leaned forward in his chair. At that moment, Jesse wanted to be anywhere but in that room. He didn¡¯t want to answer that question. Thankfully, there was a slight knock on the door, and another one of Clayson¡¯s aides opened it. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to disturb you, sir, but this just came in.¡± Clayson held out his hand, and the man handed him the folder he was carrying. Clayson took the folder, opened it immediately, and motioned for his aide to wait. After two minutes of silence, Clayson let out a sigh. ¡°Gentlemen, I¡¯m sorry to say that I have some bad news to share with you. David Choi was taken to a hospital two nights ago after a gun battle in his apartment with two intruders after his shift was over. The two men were waiting for him inside his apartment when he got home. He is in critical condition and may not live.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°And the two men; what happened to them? And is it related to what we are discussing today, or was it unrelated?¡± Jesse asked. ¡°As for the relevance of what we are discussing today¡­I will get to that in a minute. The details are a little sketchy, but the two men did escape and have not yet been found, or they may have been, and you will see why after I finish up with Mr. Choi. From what I¡¯ve read, Choi is unable to talk at this time. Hopefully, we will know more very soon. We were able to interview Choi¡¯s partner and learned that he intended to meet General Bennett at a park in Laguna Beach the following day. Needless to say, that meeting never took place.¡± Clayson paused to take a drink of water, then continued, ¡°Now I¡¯m afraid that I have some more bad news. General Bennett was also in a gun battle with two men carrying sound-suppressed automatic weapons at his townhome last night. Thankfully, he was able to kill both of these men even though both were wearing body armor. Unfortunately, Bennett was wounded in the gun battle, and he¡¯s in critical but stable condition at a hospital in Oceanside, California. Thankfully, he is expected to live. Given this new information, it seems clear that Tim Choi¡¯s e-mail to his grandson and Rakov¡¯s visit to Tim Choi¡¯s office in Phuket are connected. I don¡¯t know if these men were fed this information from someone inside the NSA or if they got it in some other way. But from what I have been told, it is highly unlikely that any other source could have broken the e-mail encryption. Needless to say, it will be looked into. Now, it appears that the warning that Tim Choi gave to his grandson wasn¡¯t an idle threat. It appears that everyone that¡¯s been involved in the correspondence between David and Tim Choi has either been attacked, questioned, or killed.¡± Clayson turned to his aide, who had taken a seat next to him, and told him what he wanted him to do. The man wrote the names down on his tablet and immediately left the room, closing the door quietly as he did. This news devasted Jesse. The man who had guided him most of his adult life and was instrumental in helping him pursue his college degree, becoming an Army Officer and one of the first men that he hired to join his newly formed private agency was lying in a hospital bed in critical condition. Jesse fought the urge to get up and leave that instant and fly to California, although that wouldn¡¯t happen. Another man needed his help, a man who had saved his life on more than one occasion. All his training forced him to focus on the task at hand and fight through his emotions. He had a mission to carry out, and nothing was going to stop him. Clayson had dealt with Major Taylor and General Jackson long enough to know that these men were very close to General Bennett, and he could see the emotion on their faces. He decided to make a long overdue call and give the men time to reflect on this information. He announced that he had to make a call and left the room, stating that he would return shortly. General Jackson was the first to speak. ¡°I know he¡¯ll make it, Jesse; he¡¯s too good a man and too tough of an old bastard to die.¡± Jesse placed his elbow on the table and his left hand on his forehead. ¡°Thanks for those encouraging words, General. But unfortunately, even good men have to die sometime. I just pray that it¡¯s not his time yet.¡± The General didn¡¯t answer; he just nodded. ¡°By the way¡­ were our assets in Thailand able to find Choi¡¯s cell phone records?¡± Jackson shook his head, ¡°No, not yet, but there are only three providers, and they are checking everyone. I¡¯ll let you know as soon as they find anything.¡± With Clayson gone for the moment, Jesse took the opportunity to call his logistics expert to see what he had put together. After a short conversation, the call ended, and he wasn¡¯t happy with the news. Ten minutes later, Clayson returned with a dejected look. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe in the center of the table and sat down. There was no preamble. ¡°Jensen¡¯s mother was found dead in her bed by a concerned neighbor three days ago. Her landline was answered by her niece, who was making preparations for her funeral. The autopsy showed the cause of death as a possible heart attack, although now that¡¯s obviously questionable. I¡¯m going to assume at this point that it was a homicide. If Mrs. Jensen¡¯s death was not by natural causes, then there is only one way these men could have found her. Whoever these people are, they would have to know that the CIA analyst who was killed at Xuan Loc was Peter Jensen, and they would either have to have access to his file, or they were given this information by someone who had firsthand knowledge of Jensen¡¯s parents. I can¡¯t begin to tell you how much that troubles me.¡± ¡°And Mr. Jensen?¡± General Jackson asked. ¡°Mrs. Jensen¡¯s niece informed us that Zedekiah Jensen is in a nursing home not far from his home and that he¡¯s been inflicted with Alzheimer¡¯s disease for some time now. She supplied a phone number, and a member of my staff contacted the nursing home and talked with the woman in charge. I was informed that this woman was very cooperative, and she told our investigator that Mr. Jensen was visited by his VA caseworker just three days before Mary¡¯s body was discovered. She stated that she was surprised that the VA caseworker didn¡¯t know that Zedekiah had Alzheimer¡¯s. We contacted his real caseworker, who informed us that he had made no such visit. I am sending someone to interview the staff at the nursing home to follow up on this. Given this new information, it now seems obvious that someone stationed at Xuan Loc in 75 doesn¡¯t want this document to see the light of day. Major Taylor, with your first-hand knowledge, do you have any idea who may be behind this?¡± Jesse stood at the edge of a precipice with nowhere to go. He was no stranger to fear. He had fought men on the battlefield and had taken lives. But he had also saved them. He had lost his wife and best friend to cancer and was helpless to stop it, but nothing he had ever done prior to this point could prepare him for the apprehension that he now faced. Jesse¡¯s thoughts somehow drifted to one of his favorite books as a teenager. John Steinbeck¡¯s classic, ¡°Of Mice and Men.¡± It was a story of hopes and dreams, love and friendship, good men and bad men, and profound tragedy and heartbreak. George Milton and Lennie Small shared their friendship and dreams together, but their dreams of a new life were shattered by a tragic accident that forced George, out of love, to end the life of his friend. Sydney and Jesse, too, had shared their hopes and dreams together all those years ago, and now, tragically, he was in a position to end hers. As Clayson waited for his answer, the analogy was not lost on him. Chapter 60 Chapter 60 Shawn politely asked Kim to stay with one of her friends and get one of her assistants to take over her duties at the club, but after she refused, he told her in no uncertain terms that he wouldn¡¯t allow her to stay at the house or go to work while these men were still hunting for him. It was simply too dangerous. Reluctantly, Kim agreed and made arrangements with one of her assistants to meet her at the office to go over the duties she expected her to take while she was gone. After Kim finished the meeting, she went to her office to gather a few things and was about to leave when a man stepped in front of her open door, effectively blocking her exit. Kim had no idea who the man was. However, she was about to find out. ¡°Good day, Miss Lee; your photo doesn¡¯t do you justice. You¡¯re much lovelier in person.¡± Kim had never met the man before. He was tall, blond, and very muscular, yet his demeanor wasn¡¯t threatening. Kim immediately picked up on his British accent. She had no idea what he was doing in an ¡°employee¡¯s only¡± area of the club or what photo he was talking about. ¡°This is a restricted area, Mr¡­?¡± ¡°Pardon me, Miss Lee. You can call me¡­Mr. Smith.¡± ¡°What is your business here, Mr. Smith?¡± ¡°I¡¯m looking for this man,¡± Smith said as he held out the photo taken from Choi¡¯s office. ¡°I was informed that you two are very close and that you know where I can find him. I just need to ask him a few questions. That¡¯s all.¡± A chill ran down Kim''s spine as she looked at the photo of Choi, Shawn, and herself that was taken at the club. ¡°Where did you get that?¡± she snapped. ¡°That¡¯s not important, but what IS important is for you to answer my questions, Miss Lee.¡± Mr. Smith said in a much more sinister tone. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I have no intention of answering your questions. Now get out of my office and out of my club before I call the police.¡± Kim tried to sound tough, but Mr. Smith only found it amusing. ¡°Well, you are spunky, I¡¯ll give you that. Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have time to play games with you.¡± Smith looked to his right and nodded, then he stepped into her office, and another man stepped in right behind him and closed the door. Kim recognized him instantly, and her blood ran cold. He was the ugly Russian that Shawn had taken a photo of outside Choi¡¯s office. Without saying a word, the man rushed forward. He grabbed her cell phone from her hand and forced her to sit in her chair. The man¡¯s breath was foul, and he was extremely strong. Her arm and neck ached where he had grabbed her. ¡°Get you¡¯re fucking hands off me, you bastard,¡± Kim shouted. Rakov snorted and bent down to look into her face, ¡°Boy, this pretty little thing sure has a foul mouth on her. Maybe we should wash it out with soap?¡± Kim got a good look at the man¡¯s face. ¡°Who the fuck beat you with an ugly stick?¡± Kim shouted and then spit in his face. Rakov slowly stood and wiped his face with the back of his hand, then faster than Kim expected, he backhanded her across her mouth. The powerful blow almost knocked her out. Her vision blurred and was filled with stars. When she regained her senses, she could taste blood in her mouth. After she gently touched her bloodied lips, she turned to look at Rakov with contempt in her eyes. He pulled a big knife out of his boot with one hand and pulled her hair back against the chair with the other. The tip of his knife was shoved just under Kim¡¯s nose, and Rakov responded, ¡°So you think I¡¯m ugly. Well, let¡¯s see how you look after I¡¯m done with you, pretty lady.¡± At first, Smith looked on with amusement, but then he decided to intervene before things got out of hand. ¡°That¡¯s enough; put your knife away. We need her in one piece¡­at least for now,¡± Mr. Smith said with a calm but raised voice. Rakov slowly ran the blade across her face, and then, just before he pulled it away, he cut a shallow half-inch-long slice with the top of his knife just under her left eye. ¡°Now you almost look as pretty as me,¡± Rakov said with genuine glee. Mr. Smith looked at Rakov and shook his head. He pulled a Kleenex from a box on Kim¡¯s desk and handed it to her. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry about that, Miss Lee, but you shouldn¡¯t have provoked my associate. He¡¯s a little¡­shall we say¡­ sensitive about his appearance. Now that I have your undivided attention, please tell me where I can find this man.¡± Anger filled her being, and disregarding her own safety, she said softly, ¡°Why don¡¯t you two blokes go and fuck yourselves.¡± Her feistiness was met with another blow to the side of her head by the big, ugly Russian. Chapter 61 Chapter 61 Jesse watched Clayson¡¯s face as he said her name. The man didn¡¯t even flinch, and his face remained stoic. He wondered if a conspiracy involving the President of the United States was a daily occurrence for him. Perhaps it was. Almost immediately after hearing her name, he recalled the conversation that he had with the FBI director regarding the bombing in Connecticut. ¡°Someone had to have inside information about Congressman Becket¡¯s cancer,¡± and he suspected that it was someone in the government. ¡°Forensic tests prove that the bomb had been planted long before his death." He remembered that the usual conspiracy theorists suggested the Vice President was involved. In fact, he knew that the FBI had discreetly looked into her records at the CIA. Ultimately, they came up with nothing. ¡°Okay, so who do you think hired Choi, and why do you think this person has waited this long to pursue this if he had any idea what was in the file?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t be one hundred percent sure, but I believe its Corporal Shawn Harris. He is the only one I shared the information about the letter in Sanders''s hand. His name was on the list that I requested from General Jackson.¡± Jesse handed Clayson the file on Shawn. Clayson accepted the file and looked it over very quickly. ¡°As you can see from the report, Harris disappeared sometime in late 1975. As far as why he has waited this long, I can¡¯t even begin to speculate. As I stated before, I haven¡¯t seen Corporal Harris since that night of our last recon mission when I was wounded and airlifted to Saigon. Clayson nodded and continued to read Shawn¡¯s file. ¡°I see that he was a very highly decorated Green Beret. It also looks like he had a problem with authority. I see he was busted in rank at least twice for insubordination.¡± ¡°He may have had a problem with authority, but I can¡¯t think of anyone that I would rather have at my side in a firefight or any kind of fight for that matter, sir. The man is fearless.¡± Clayson leaned back in his chair and decided they needed to move on. ¡°Alright, at this point, I¡¯ll have to agree with you that it is a very strong possibility that Harris hired Mr. Choi and that he has the encrypted letter you have described in his position. Now, let¡¯s move on to Rakov. General Jackson tells me that you had a recent run with the man, but because of the time constraints, he didn¡¯t elaborate. However, he mentioned that President Roberts contracted your agency directly. I know you¡¯re under no obligation to tell me the details of your contract, but under the circumstances, I was hoping it wouldn¡¯t be a sticking point.¡± Clayson knew there was no way he wouldn¡¯t give him the details of his encounter with Rakov, yet he felt obliged to ask politely for his cooperation. The agency that Bennett started simply received too much work from the government. Jesse would need Clayson¡¯s help, so for the next ten minutes, he reviewed everything that happened in Prague, including the nature of their contract with the former President. Clayson stopped Jesse a few times and asked questions, but for the most part, he just listened. As he recalled the incident, he could see the wheels turning in Clayson¡¯s head, and Jesse was reasonably sure that Clayson would reach the same conclusion as he had. When Jesse finished, Clayson tried to put this new information into perspective. When he first read Choi¡¯s e-mail, he was only interested in Rakov. Clayson wanted him found, questioned, and brought to justice, yet he was also intrigued by the content of the e-mail. He had no idea where it would lead. After listening to Jesse¡¯s story and finding out that Sydney had been stationed in Xuan Loc, things were starting to fall into place. He had no doubt that Rakov was working for the same employer and that they were dealing with a well-funded, highly organized, and very deadly entity. With this new information, President Roberts may have been targeted because of his energy policies and not because he was the leader of the free world. Although Clayson felt it was more than just controlling energy, he had no idea what it was. He certainly knew that it wasn¡¯t simply industrial espionage. Not when you have spies in the NSA. If Sydney was indeed the person they were trying to protect, they also could have been behind the bombing at the Mystic cemetery that placed her in power; this led Clayson to ask Jesse a question. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°It is apparent that Mr. Rakov has some extremely powerful friends. From what you¡¯ve told me, his escape was well-orchestrated, timed, and funded. Do you have any idea who he was working for, and do you see any connection with what transpired in Phuket?¡± Jesse shook his head, ¡°Nothing solid, but it¡¯s been rumored that Rakov has been working for someone in the Middle East. I also know that over the past several years, there have been a lot of research centers all over the globe that have been infiltrated, their research stolen, or their scientists have simply disappeared. It appears that Rakov may be part of the muscle behind this. That is just one of the reasons that President Roberts built the research center in Nevada. As far as what took place in Phuket, I now believe that it¡¯s connected.¡± Clayson was about to ask him if he thought the bombing in Connecticut was also connected, but he decided against it. He wanted more information first. And part of that information was to find out what Harris knew and what was in the document that was supposedly in his possession. Clayson had already checked. His resources in Thailand were thin at best. He read the report on the ones he had, and he wasn¡¯t exactly impressed. This was something that he couldn¡¯t take a chance on. He needed extremely good men to handle this. He could have a dozen men on a plane within the hour, but he decided that another approach would be necessary with the political unrest in Thailand and the red tape involved in getting them on the ground. He knew the men before him, and Bennett¡¯s company was exceptionally capable. They had hardened men who could get in and out of any country without much trouble. On the other hand, Clayson had to play by the rules, especially in today¡¯s political climate, and that often didn¡¯t sit well with him. That was why Bennett¡¯s company was flourishing. And Major Taylor knew Harris personally, and he didn¡¯t want any more people involved in this if he could help it. Especially when it led to the White House, so he decided to offer Jesse a deal. However, he had to inform him of the hard facts before he did. He was about to do this when his aide knocked and entered the room. He quickly walked over and handed Clayson another folder, which he immediately opened and read. He wasn¡¯t surprised by his query. There was nothing in Phuket or Thailand, for that matter, that indicated that Harris resided there. If the man was on the run, he covered his tracks very well. ¡°You may be right, Major, but a man like Rakov could have many employers.¡± ¡°I agree, sir, but the only way we¡¯ll know is to find him.¡± Jesse continued, ¡°I¡¯m positive that Tim Choi contacted Shawn soon after the incident at his office. I understand that the only phone records we have for Choi are his landline at his office and not his cell phone. I also understand that you had your agency call every number on that list and found no one remotely related to this¡­ incident.¡± ¡°That¡¯s correct. The only phone listed on Choi¡¯s website is his landline. We searched all the cell phone providers in Phuket and can¡¯t find any provider that has him as a customer. This leads me to believe he¡¯s either not using his real name or on someone else¡¯s account.¡± Jesse rubbed the stubble on his chin and said, ¡°It¡¯s my understanding that Choi sent the photo of Rakov to someone in the Thai National Police. Did he send it from his cell phone or from his computer?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid the informant that gave us that tip didn¡¯t provide that information. I was told that our assets inquired about his cell phone number, and apparently, he didn¡¯t know or wouldn¡¯t reveal his source. We do, however, have Choi¡¯s e-mail address. You or General Bennett could simply send him an e-mail and tell him who you are and ask that his client contact you. However, there¡¯s a problem with that. The people trying to find Choi and Harris have some deep-reaching communication surveillance. If they have moles inside the NSA, it¡¯s a sure bet that they¡¯re monitoring his e-mail and his cell phone if they have it to try and locate him because, frankly, that¡¯s what we would do. If they find out that we are on their tail, they may just back off, and we may never find out who¡¯s behind this, and that¡¯s something that I don¡¯t want to risk. I did, however, have one of our assets in Phuket send an e-mail to Choi from a local business to ask for his help on a local matter. They left a number for him to call, but as of this meeting, he hasn¡¯t responded. At the risk of sounding callous, I don¡¯t see any other alternative but to try to find Choi and Harris with all our resources without directly contacting Choi by e-mail. I just hope that we can find them before they do.¡± Chapter 62 Chapter 62 Forty-five minutes after the meeting ended, Jesse pulled his SUV onto a private wooded road just north of Dulles International. He wasn¡¯t happy with the information that Clayson had given him. However, he had no alternative and had to agree to his terms. He was using Shawn as bait, and he didn¡¯t like it. He soon approached the security checkpoint that would let him gain entrance to the former airport utility building complex that now served as BJXXI Inc.¡¯s base of operations. The complex contained a small office building and two large hangers, all surrounded by a high, razor-wired fence. Jesse was cleared through the checkpoint and proceeded directly to his designated parking spot at the front of the office building, which was drab and non-descript, but it served its purpose. The private enterprise was solely owned by two men who hired only the most highly skilled men to carry out their missions. Although no man in the company would ever appear before a Senate hearing and their probing questions, the land and buildings were paid for largely with taxpayer dollars. Jesse entered the building and entered his ID card and security code at the main entrance. He was greeted by a very attractive woman seated behind a reception desk with a wave of her hand. She was talking on the phone at the time. The lobby was much like any business lobby. A seating area consisted of various potted plants, two comfortable chairs, a sofa, and a coffee table with a fresh-cut flower arrangement. The woman behind the desk insisted on the flowers. It was the only thing feminine about the whole building in an otherwise man¡¯s world. ¡°Good morning, Mr. Taylor.¡± The woman said cheerfully, covering the mouthpiece. Jesse smiled and said softly, ¡°Good morning, Cara.¡± Covering the mouthpiece again, Cara said, ¡°Jack¡¯s waiting for you, sir.¡± Jesse nodded and moved on. Jesse was pleased that she was on a phone call. Usually, he made time to talk with the flirtatious redhead, but not today. He would have been there for a long time if he had told her about what had happened to General Bennett, and time was a luxury he didn¡¯t have at the moment. Tall and fit, Cara Connor was in her mid-forties with short red hair, a spattering of freckles under her brilliant green eyes, and a cute little nose. She was also divorced. Her husband had divorced her when he found out that she couldn¡¯t have children. Jesse had hired her the previous year and she had fallen in love with him almost immediately. Everyone in the building knew where it would lead, everyone except Jesse. He wasn¡¯t clueless about her affections, but he still wasn¡¯t over the death of his wife, and he had too much on his plate. Jesse went through one door and then came to another marked ¡°Secure Area; Official Personnel Only.¡± It was more like a bank vault than a door, a bank vault with a biometric authentication security system. A retina scanner and voice pattern analyzer were positioned next to the door. Jesse stated his name and placed his forehead so his eyes were directly in front of the retina scanner. A soft female voice said, ¡°You are cleared to enter, Major Taylor,¡± at the same time, he heard the door locking mechanism release the bolt. Jesse opened the door and stepped inside the main control area, where a small group of men and women were working. Twenty large, flat-screen monitors filled the walls, displaying live satellite feeds of up-to-the-minute events happening around the globe. Some were sitting behind computer monitors and hacking into secure systems, while others were monitoring active terrorist websites. Jesse was the deputy director and answered to only one man, General Jackson. The first man that Jesse walked up to was Jack Harding, his best logistical planner. Jack was the man Jesse called before his meeting at Langley. He had given him all the basic parameters for the operation and left him to do his job. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Were you able to pull some men?¡± Jesse asked hopefully. ¡°Hunt and Eastling called in, and they¡¯re just finishing up their op in Syria. I told them what you wanted them for, and they¡¯re eager to assist you. You also have Ken Jackson, who just came off of his shoulder injury. The doc says he¡¯s good to go.¡± ¡°Good, now tell me what you came up with.¡± Jack brought up a map of Southeast Asia and zoomed in on Phuket. He then expanded the view and pointed to a small group of islands in the Straits of Malacca on the Thai-Malaysia border, the largest one showing an international airport. Jack zoomed in closer and revealed the name of the island. He right-clicked on the airport, and a full description popped up and revealed all the up-to-date information on the airport, the current U.S. status with Malaysia, and contact information. Without looking at Jesse, Jack said, ¡°We have a small resort island in Malaysia just 140 nautical miles southeast of Phuket, and it has an International Airport with a 1250-foot runway.¡± Jesse looked at the screen and said, ¡°Langkawi?¡± ¡°Affirmative, Sir,¡± Jack said while typing another command on his keypad. The board lit up with current vessels in the Straits of Malacca. Several had small flags over the ships, and he clicked on one close to the island of Penang, just 65 nautical miles south of Langkawi. ¡°We currently have a Panamanian-flagged cargo vessel operating 125 miles due south of Langkawi. It¡¯s a U.S. decoy ship monitoring Indonesian and Malaysian pirates in the Straits of Malacca. The ship is part of a joint venture between the U.S., Singapore, and Malaysian governments to curb piracy in that region. I talked with the Captain and learned that they had just concluded their operations in the straits and were heading to the Horn of Africa to set up shop there. Captain O¡¯Keefe has agreed to have his ship at your disposal for as long as you need it, but he wants it in writing from the CIA or NSA director. And the best part is the ship is equipped with two helicopters and several high-speed zodiacs.¡± Jesse smiled at the man and said, ¡°Good job, Jack, I¡¯ll put a big bonus on your next check.¡± Jack let out a short laugh and said, ¡°Yeah, right; I won¡¯t hold my breath.¡± Jesse was delighted to learn that his best two field operatives, Greg Hunt and Aaron Eastling, had finished their operation in Syria. He issued orders for them to meet up with him in Langkawi the following day. Less than an hour later, Jesse and Ken were heading for Malaysia aboard the company¡¯s Gulfstream G650, which had a cursing speed of just under Mach 1. Because of the tensions over Russian airspace, Harding plotted a course where they could refuel at Elmendorf AFB in Anchorage before continuing non-stop to Langkawi. Just after leaving the Elmendorf airfield, Jesse learned that due to engine problems, Hunt and Eastling¡¯s plane had been forced to land in Qatar in the Persian Gulf. Jesse just hoped they could rectify the problem or make other arrangements to meet with them. Shortly after 3:00 pm local time, the wheels of the private jet touched down at Langkawi International Airport. Jesse and Ken arrived on the island fifteen hours after leaving Washington, D.C. They had covered over 9700 miles and passed through thirteen different time zones. As they were about to disembark the plane, Jesse¡¯s phone rang, and he closed the updated file on Ivan Rakov that he had been reading and took the call from Tim Jennings. He was informed that the nursing home administrator had positively ID¡¯d one of the men that Bennett had killed as the man who posed as the VA caseworker. He also found out that the two men had been identified. They were former MI6 agents who had been charged with the theft of a large quantity of gold bullion that was seized from a drug lord. Apparently, two other agents were involved with them, but the case against them was dropped when the prosecution¡¯s star witness disappeared without a trace. All four men then left England and disappeared. He was also informed that all the resources had come up empty on Harris. If Shawn was in Phuket, he wouldn¡¯t be using his real name. Also, the grainy 1971 black and white photo of Shawn hadn¡¯t turned up anything yet. After exiting the Gulfstream, Jesse and Ken walked to a waiting Westland Lynx helicopter, and as prearranged, they easily bypassed the Malaysian immigration security officials who had been paid to look the other way. The Lynx was one of the world¡¯s fastest helicopters, and Jesse and Ken were transported to the rusted cargo freighter, ¡°The Maltese Falcon,¡± now just fifteen nautical miles southwest of Phuket. Chapter 63 Chapter 63 The night sky was crystal clear, with just a slight warm breeze from the northeasterly trade winds. Jesse could see lightning flashes far in the western horizon from the ship''s deck. He just hoped that the weather wouldn''t interfere with their mission tonight. In the distance, he could see the lights of Phuket and the dark outline of the Thailand coast. The seas were calm, and the moon was just a sliver in the rising in the Eastern sky. Jesse gazed in awe at the stars and moon above and felt so incredibly small and insignificant by the vastness of the universe. "What a beautiful night¡­ I could just sit on this deck and watch this incredible show all night," Jesse said. Ken looked at Jesse, "You know, I was thinking the same thing, but instead of star gazing, I envisioned three or four gorgeous women in thong bikinis and a couple of bottles of single malt whiskey to keep me company." "Is that all you think about is women and booze." "No, sometimes I think of food, women, and booze, although not necessarily in that order." Jesse shook his head and was about to say something when a man dressed in all black approached them. "We''re about to launch, sir¡­ five minutes," the man said. Jesse and Ken acknowledged him and moved toward the boat without further banter. "Anything on the radar that we should be concerned with?" Jesse asked the coxswain and his shipmate as they approached the vessel suspended off the ship''s starboard side. "A few large merchant ships and some small pleasure craft is all. We haven''t picked up any patrol boats or radio chatter, sir," the man answered. ¡°Terrific, then let¡¯s get underway.¡± When all four men and their gear were aboard the craft, a lift crane dropped the Zodiac CZ7 into the emerald-green waters of the Andaman Sea. The coxswain checked to see if everyone was in their proper position, the gear was secure, and the lines were released before he started the twin 150 HP, four¨Cstroke, Evinrude outboards. He checked all the gauges, and when he was satisfied, he shifted the motors in gear after he looked at Jesse and Ken, who gave him the thumbs up. Within minutes, the Zodiac was traveling at forty knots over the calm, glassy sea. They approached the rendezvous site twenty minutes later, and the craft made a smooth landing on the soft sand beach that appeared to be deserted. Jesse and Ken disembarked with their gear and were met by their contact, Chuah, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Thailand immigration, can I see your passports, please?¡± Chuah asked in perfect English. Ken pulled out his 9mm and said, ¡°Here¡¯s mine.¡± Chuah took one look at the big man and replied, ¡°That looks good to me. Welcome to Thailand, gentlemen.¡± After the proper greeting and further harassment ended, all three men shoved the large Zodiac back into the water. The coxswain and his mate saluted, then the coxswain started the outboards, and the small craft was soon out of site. With Chuah¡¯s help, Jesse and Ken grabbed their gear and followed him into the darkness. Sweat started to form on Jesse¡¯s forehead as they made their way to the vehicle. Jesse could see giant bats with enormous wings flying overhead in search of food. The night was warm, and the jungle was thick as they approached his late model Toyota Fortuner was parked in the dense foliage not far away. The initial plan was to pick up four men, but with a smaller group, Chuah chose a smaller vehicle. Ken was about to get into the front passenger seat when Jesse pointed at the back and said, ¡°You got the front last time, sport.¡± Ken eyeballed Jesse and said, ¡°What are we twelve years old now?¡± Not getting a reply, he reluctantly climbed into the back seat of the small 4-door SUV without saying another word. With everyone inside and the gear stowed, Chuah started the small diesel engine and backed it onto a dirt trail leading to the main road. Jesse¡¯s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was a text message with an update on the other two members of his team. Their plane couldn¡¯t be repaired until the following day when a part arrived. Jesse was disappointed but kept it to himself. ¡°How long before we get to our base of operations?¡± Ken asked. ¡°We should be at the safe house in just under an hour.¡± ¡°Great, wake me when we get there.¡± ***** Halfway to their destination, Chuah¡¯s phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and answered it. The two men spoke in Thai for a long minute before he handed his phone to Jesse. ¡°I think we got a hit on your man.¡± Jesse took the phone and learned that one of the nightclub workers in Phuket recognized Shawn¡¯s photo. At first, the woman didn¡¯t recognize him because of his short hair and slender, cleanly shaved face, but she was positive that it was Mr. Shawn, the owner of the Mongoose Club. As soon as Jesse heard this, he knew he had found his old friend. Jesse thanked him and requested all the information on the Mongoose Club and everything they could find on its owner. When he finished his conversation, he returned the phone to Chuah and asked. ¡°Do you know where the Mongoose Club is?¡± ¡°Of course, everyone in Phuket knows where it is.¡± ¡°Then let¡¯s make that our first stop.¡± He agreed and increased his speed, which was already way too fast for Jesse. As the SUV sped on, Jesse pulled out his drab olive green military version of the iPad and powered it up. When it was fully up, he entered his password, and his home page appeared. Jesse clicked on the Google Chrome Icon, which automatically connected him to a satellite feed, and was soon looking at the Mongoose Club''s webpage. The owner''s name wasn''t listed, and he found no photo of Shawn anywhere on the site, but he was impressed by the club and all it offered. He found the location on the website''s map and entered it into his current location. He watched as the ETA clock counted down the time, and a smile came over his face. He finally looked out the side window and into the darkness. He just hoped and prayed that they could find Shawn before Rakov and his friends did. Chapter 64 Chapter 64 Kim woke with a jolt from the frigid water that was thrown in her face by her captors. Her head hurt, and she touched the side of her face and found it sore and swollen. "Thank you for joining us again, Miss Lee. I must apologize for my¡­associate; he can be very crude at times. With your help¡­or should I say from your purse, we were able to ascertain the location of Mr. Harris''s home. Some of my other associates are checking it out as we speak. I do hope that Mr. Choi is there with him; it will make things go a little quicker for us. Now, that brings us to you. You are going to be my insurance policy. I''m hoping that it will guarantee Mr. Harris''s full cooperation. I just hope he''s very fond of you. Otherwise, you''re of no use to me at all. And if that''s the case, I just might let my not-so-pleasant-looking associate have his way with you until he gets bored." Mr. Smith could see the stark reality in her eyes and was incredibly pleased, but he still wanted to leave her with a bit of hope. ¡°Now, if all goes well tonight, I can assure you that once we have what we want, we will leave you in peace without further harm to anyone.¡± Mr. Smith said with a grin. Kim had no delusions that these men would just leave them once they had what they wanted. She knew what fate awaited them. She was fully aware of what happened to Addison. Somehow, she was going to help Shawn kill these men, although she didn¡¯t have a clue as to how. She wasn¡¯t going down without a fight. Mr. Smith¡¯s cell phone rang, and he listened for a moment, and a broad smile crossed his face. Using a spotting scope, the men he had sent to monitor the home had just seen the man they were looking for on his deck with a drink in his hand. ***** Jesse woke Ken when they were within a mile of Bangla Road. No vehicle traffic was allowed on the road after dark, and Chuah luckily found a place to park with security. Jesse and Ken were dressed in dark colors. Both wore black cargo pants and military hiking shoes. Jesse wore a dark green short-sleeved casual shirt, while Ken¡¯s was medium gray. They had no idea how long it would take to find Shawn, and they didn¡¯t want to stick out in a crowd wearing camo. Soon, all three men started to walk down the crowded streets. The night air was warm and pungent with a mixture of incense, spices, hacker food stands, and other aromas that stimulated and baffled the senses. The city¡¯s seedy underbelly came alive at night like a devouring beast looking to feast on its unsuspecting prey. As the men walked toward the Mongoose Club, Jesse said to Ken, ¡°Sodom and Gomorrah has nothing on this place.¡± Ken just grinned from ear to ear and took it all in. For him, it was paradise. As they walked, Chuah suggested that they hold onto their wallets because of the many pickpockets that preyed on the intoxicated and unsuspecting tourists. The three men were soon inundated by young men and women handing out luring advertising sheets for various clubs in the area. Jesse noted the people of every age and nationality walking the streets and taking in the madness. They were like sheep passing by the lairs of hungry wolves. There was always safety in numbers, but as in nature, the weak were always singled out and eagerly devoured. Fifteen minutes later, they entered the busy hot spot after paying a cover charge. Jesse was immediately impressed by the size and scope of the nightclub. On the large stage, a cabaret show was in progress that had everyone captivated. In a dazzling display of stage sets, fantastic music, and dance, beautiful women and handsome men performed magical dance routines in extravagant, colorful costumes from worldwide cultures in classical dance and song. In another section of the club, separate from the stage, Jesse saw coyote girls pole dancing on the raised platforms on the main floor and on the balcony. He paid little attention to them, but Ken seemed to be mesmerized. He was bobbing his head to the music that blared at decibels that rattled Jesse¡¯s brain, and he wondered how anyone could enjoy it. They weaved through the crowd to one of the three bars and luckily found two empty stools that had just been vacated. Jesse and Chuah sat while Ken stood. Chuah leaned over to talk to Jesse over the music. ¡°It¡¯s been quite a while since I¡¯ve been in here. I see that they have made some changes. This place is great.¡± Jesse looked around and spotted photographs behind the bar of famous people from around the world posing with some cabaret dancers. Some celebrities were easy to name, but one stood out above the rest. It was Charlie Sheen posing between two of the beautiful dancers. As he looked at the photo closer, something else caught his eye: a man standing next to one of the dancers. He had on a New York Yankees baseball cap and a full beard, but Jesse recognized the face almost immediately and the scar below his right eye. He had his arm around an older, very attractive Asian woman who was smiling at him. When the bartender arrived to take their drink requests, Jesse asked the man, ¡°Who¡¯s the man and woman in the photo with Charlie Sheen and the two dancers?¡± The bartender looked at the photo. ¡°That¡¯s the owner of the club and the club manager. What can I get for you, sir?¡± ¡°What¡¯s the owner¡¯s name?¡± Jesse asked. The young man shrugged his shoulders and said, ¡°Everyone just calls him Mr. Shawn.¡± Is he here now?¡± Jesse asked. ¡°I¡¯d like to speak with him.¡± ¡°No, I haven¡¯t seen him for a few days.¡± Jesse leaned closer to the handsome bartender and said, ¡°Do you know how I can contact him then? I¡¯m sure he has a cell phone.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir, I¡¯m not allowed to give out that information.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯d like to talk with the manager.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid that Miss Lee isn¡¯t here tonight either. Why is something wrong with the service?¡± ¡°No, everything is fine. But it¡¯s very urgent that I speak with whoever is running the club tonight.¡± The bartender nodded and picked up his radio behind the bar. A few minutes later, a middle-aged woman of Chinese descent named Susan Wong approached Jesse and asked how she could assist him. Jesse introduced himself, and then he asked if they could talk somewhere in private. Susan was reluctant, but sensing her apprehension, Jesse informed her that he was an old Army friend and that it was urgent that he contact Shawn because he might be in danger. Without any further hesitation, she instructed Jesse to follow her. Ken and Chuah stayed at the bar while Jesse followed the woman through a door around the corner from the bar. Susan led him to Kim¡¯s office. She unlocked the door, and the two stepped in after turning on the lights. Susan rounded Kim¡¯s desk to sit down. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°You stirred my curiosity, Mr. Taylor. And just how is the owner of the club in danger?¡± Jesse was about to speak when Susan covered her mouth and gasped, ¡°Oh my god.¡± ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Susan pointed at the dried blood on the floor and on the armrest of the chair. Jesse was at her side instantly and looked at the blood drops. He took a pencil off the desk and examined the blood using the eraser end. The blood was still somewhat moist in the center of the largest drop and hard on the outside edges. ¡°Is this the owner¡¯s office?¡± Jesse asked the woman, although he was sure it wasn¡¯t from the looks of the decor. ¡°No, it belongs to Kim Lee, the club manager. She asked me to fill in for her for a few days.¡± Jesse was curious about the photo behind the bar and asked, ¡°Does Shawn have a personal relationship with Miss Lee besides being his manager?¡± Susan nodded and said with a shaky voice, ¡°They have lived together ever since I can remember.¡± ¡°Did she say why she was leaving? What was her mood when you talked with her?¡± Jesse asked. ¡°She didn¡¯t say why she was taking time off, although she did appear to be a little nervous, and that¡¯s not like her.¡± ¡°Has Mr. Shawn ever used this office?¡± Susan shook her head. ¡°When was the last time you spoke with Miss Lee?¡± The woman looked at her wristwatch and said, ¡°Not quite an hour ago.¡± Jesse pulled out a photo and handed it to her. ¡°Have you seen this man in the club recently?¡± Susan studied the photo for a moment before answering. ¡°Yes, he was in the club not long ago. I saw him talking to one of our hostesses. I remember him because he was quite unpleasant looking, and he looked very mean.¡± ¡°Susan, I¡¯m afraid we don¡¯t have much time. I need the cell number or landline for Shawn and Miss Lee. I need to talk with them immediately.¡± Without hesitation, Susan pulled out her cell phone. She was told never to give out any personal information about any employee, but after seeing the bloodstained floor and armrest, she decided to break that rule. Susan¡¯s hand shook a bit as she pulled up the contact information. She wasn¡¯t sure if Mr. Shawn had a landline; all she had was his cell number. Jesse entered the numbers into his cell phone and immediately called Shawn. His phone rang eight times before it went to his voicemail without a greeting. When the beep sounded, Jesse was temporarily at a loss for words. After all the years that had passed, he didn¡¯t know what to say to the man who had saved his life. As the seconds ticked by, he finally said, ¡°Shawn, this is Jesse Taylor. I¡¯m at your club in Phuket. Call me as soon as you get this message.¡± Jesse left his cell number, knowing that his cell wouldn¡¯t display his number. Next he tried Kim¡¯s cell and got her voicemail also. Not knowing who had her cell phone, he simply gave his name and number and asked her to call as soon as possible. Jesse put his phone away and looked at Susan. ¡°How far is it to Shawn¡¯s house?¡± ¡°Not far, but with the traffic and winding roads, it will take some time to get there.¡± ¡°Do you have his exact address?¡± Yes, I do. I¡¯ll write it down and give you directions to his home.¡± Thank you for all your help, Susan, but the directions won¡¯t be necessary. All I need is his address.¡± As soon as Jesse got the address, he called his headquarters in Reston. He gave them the address and requested a live satellite image link to his iPad. Before he set out on his mission, he asked General Jackson to request a surveillance satellite be assigned over Phuket, and his request was quickly approved by the National Reconnaissance Office, which normally cooperates with all the U.S. spy agencies. Jesse thanked Susan again, and soon, all three men were on the street heading for Chuah¡¯s SUV. On the way, Jesse filled his companions in on the conversation he had with Susan Wong, the blood that they found in Kim¡¯s office, and the possibility of her kidnapping. They arrived at the SUV five minutes later, and Jesse pulled out his iPod and pulled up the Google Maps link. He showed Chuah the location and asked, ¡°We need to get here ASAP!¡± Chuah looked at the screen and said, ¡°No problem, just hang on.¡± Before he started the vehicle, Chuah asked, ¡°If you¡¯re expecting trouble, I can have two men meet up with us before we get there?¡± ¡°Have they ever been in a firefight before?¡± Jesse asked. Chuah looked a little embarrassed. ¡°No sir, they are more of the intel-gathering assets.¡± ¡°How about you, Chuah?¡± Ken asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been in a few scraps,¡± Chuah lied. ¡°Where are these men at now?¡± Jesse asked. Without answering, Chuah took out his cell phone and made a call. Thirty seconds later, he said, ¡°They¡¯re watching Tim Choi¡¯s home. They are a few kilometers further out than we are. What do you want me to tell them?¡± Jesse thought about it briefly, then looked at Ken, who said, ¡°Your call.¡± ¡°Tell them to stay where they are for now. Let¡¯s get moving; we¡¯ve wasted enough time already.¡± Chuah fired up the vehicle and started to weave through the heavy night traffic while Ken began to pull out the body armor and weapons from the cargo hold. Chuah knew how to get to the peninsula. Over the years, he had visited the small, secluded Pansea Beach a few times with friends. He also knew the area had exclusive beach resorts and luxury homes. Chuah looked at Jesse and said. ¡°Your man must have a lot of money. That¡¯s a very high-rent neighborhood.¡± Jesse ignored him, and after connecting to the military version of Google Earth, which had a much higher resolution, he was soon looking down at Shawn¡¯s home in daylight. Jesse had Susan describe the house to him before he left the club. He wanted to make sure the property they were about to descend on was indeed owned by his old friend, and from the description she gave him, he was looking at the correct property. He could see that the house was quite large. It appears to be a multi-level job with two swimming pools and at least four large decks. Jesse got a soft beep and noticed that the numbers in the right-hand corner of his iPad started blinking from white to red as the countdown to when the spy satellite would reach the longitude and latitude of Shawn¡¯s home. When the counter hit zero, his screen lit up, and he was looking down on Shawn¡¯s home in real-time. Through the thermal imaging lens, he could see three people glowing in different shades of red, orange, and yellow hews. One was out on one of the decks, and two appeared to be sitting in a large room. Jesse moved his finger across the screen and scanned the security gate. He could see a man sitting in the guard shack, and he relaxed just a bit. Another soft beep and the countdown to when the Spysat would lose its connection began to read out. He would not have another satellite over Shawn¡¯s home for another twenty minutes. It appeared that Shawn was safe for the moment. But that was about to change. ¡°How long will it take to reach our target?¡± Jesse asked Chuah, ¡°It¡¯s roughly twenty kilometers, but it¡¯s through crowded winding roads. We are now in Pa Tong, and the target property is on a peninsula just west of Phuket. Given the roads and traffic, my best guess is thirty to forty minutes.¡± ¡°I want you to make it in twenty-five, but don¡¯t hit anything or run over anyone,¡± Jesse said very seriously. Chuah looked at Jesse and said, ¡°I¡¯ll try my best, sir.¡± Fifteen minutes later, they had covered less than half the distance, and Jesse was getting impatient. He didn¡¯t blame Chuah; the man was amazing in the way he weaved through the congested traffic without killing anyone or leaving half the paint from his SUV on other cars, motorbikes, and Tuk-Tuks. Jesse heard the soft beep on his iPad again. He watched as the timer counted down to zero again. Shawn¡¯s home came into view again. The person on the deck had joined the other two figures in the house. The intensity of the colors in the home was much more subdued and harder to see. Jesse decided to pan out and look at the perimeter of the house. He started with the security guard by the gate. That¡¯s when he saw them.... ¡°Shit, we have two bogies moving along the fence and closing in on the guard at the security gate, and I don¡¯t think they¡¯re coming for a social visit.¡± Chapter 65 Chapter 65 Twenty-three-year-old Charlie Han hadn''t eaten in six hours and was famished. For the past week, Charlie''s girlfriend Mai had brought him a hot meal and kept him company, but tonight, she called Charlie and told him she could not come because her grandmother was sick and needed her care. Charlie had a high metabolism, and the thought of spending the entire night without food frightened him. Charlie was one of Master Chong Eng''s star pupils who also worked as a bouncer at the Mongoose Club for the past two years. Shawn had never employed a security company to man the gate at his home, but the past week''s events changed all that. When Shawn asked Charlie if he wanted the job for a few weeks at twice the pay, he jumped at the chance. As Charlie sat in the guard shack, he was bored, hungry, and lonely. As fate would have it, his hunger and Mai''s grandmother would save his life and the life of his girlfriend. ***** After cutting the phone lines to the house, the two men drove by the security gate very slowly and observed the lone security guard sitting by himself. Fifty yards down the road, they killed the lights on their small dark sedan and parked it where it was out of sight from the lightly traveled road. The men got out, set a black box on the car''s roof, and activated it. They checked to make sure that it was indeed working, and then they started to make their way down the tall fence line that led to the security gate. ***** Charlie picked up the phone, intending to call the house. The line was dead. ¡°That¡¯s odd,¡± he said to himself. Charlie had never used the intercom before. It was connected to the home, and he was unsure how to use it. But how hard could it be? He pushed the talk button and said, ¡°Hello, this is Charlie. Is anyone there?¡± Nothing! Charlie tried several more times with the same result, so he finally gave up. He then reached for his cell phone that was lying on a small desk, unlocked it, and lightly touched the phone button. He quickly found Shawn¡¯s cell number and entered it, but the call didn¡¯t go through. He finally looked closely at the screen and found that he had no service. Charlie looked at the clock on the wall. He wasn¡¯t due to check in for almost another hour, so he decided to make a quick food run. Hopefully, by the time he returned, the phone service would be restored. Charlie left the guard shack and locked the door behind him. Seconds later, he was heading down the dark road on his Honda motorbike. He just hoped that he wouldn¡¯t get caught leaving his post. ***** The two men were thirty yards from the guard shack when the door opened, and a young man stepped out, looked around, and then locked the door behind him. The lead man raised his sound-suppressed assault rifle but didn¡¯t have a clean shot through the thick foliage. He quickly made his way forward, and by the time he had a shot, the man was already on his motorbike and turning the corner onto the main road. ¡°Lucky bastard!¡± the point man said more to himself than his partner. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it...he won¡¯t be so lucky if he returns,¡± the other man answered. ¡°Do you think he spotted us?¡± ¡°No way,¡± his partner said in return. The lead man easily kicked in the door and immediately found what he was looking for: the junction box that controlled the gate. Unfortunately, it was padlocked. He stepped back and aimed his rifle at the thin sheet metal hasp instead of the lock. The single shot blew away the hasp, and the lock fell onto the floor. He then bypassed the switch that warned the homeowner that the gate was opening and disabled the security camera that overlooked the entrance. When the man finished, he took out his small two-way radio and keyed the mic. The brief conversation quickly ended, and Mr. Smith was pleased with what he had just heard. A few minutes later, the hum of electric motors spinning filled the air as the dark-colored SUV pulled off the main road and approached the gate. The sun had been down for quite some time when the assault team entered the grounds. Smith turned to look into the back seat where Kim was sandwiched between two big Russians. He grinned at her and said, ¡°Thank you for your patience, Miss Lee; this will all be over soon.¡± Kim didn¡¯t respond; she just glared at him thinking, Yea, it will all be over when your fucking dead asshole. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ***** Ken pulled himself forward from the back seat and looked over Jesse¡¯s shoulder. He watched the two figures move on the screen and said, ¡°Whoooaaa¡­ It looks like we might see a little action tonight, boss.¡± Jesse and Ken watched as the guard left on his motorbike, and the two figures converged on the guard house. Jesse¡¯s cell buzzed, and he looked at the caller. It was the Reston operations center that was monitoring Shawn¡¯s home, calling to inform Jesse of the developing assault and the deployment of a strong radio frequency device, probably a Stingray cell phone jammer. After he got off the phone, Jesse tried Shawn¡¯s cell phone and got his voicemail again. He had no way of effectively warning Shawn, and the only thing he could do was to have Chuah drive faster. While the young Thai drove like a controlled madman, Ken and Jesse continued to monitor the screen. They watched as one of the figures appeared to work on something in the guard shack while the other man stood and watched. Jesse suspected the men were overriding the gate¡¯s security system and cameras. Jesse knew that these two weren¡¯t the only members of the assault team, and soon, his suspicions were confirmed as a large vehicle approached the gate and stopped. They watched as the first two men attached themselves to the sides of the SUV, and they started to move up the winding driveway. The SUV stopped three-quarters of the way from the home, and the two figures jumped off and began to move up the hill in separate directions. A minute passed before the driver¡¯s door opened, followed closely by two others. Jesse counted three people in all, and he assumed that they were all well-armed. The other soon joined the figure that got out of the driver¡¯s door. The images now were skewed at an angle. They watched as one figure pulled someone out of the back door and threw that person onto the ground. Jesse placed his hand on his forehead, rubbed his brow, and sighed. Seconds later, the screen went blank. ***** Kim¡¯s arms were tied behind her back. She kicked at Rakov after he pulled her out of the Ford Explorer for refusing to get out on her own. Ivan backed away in mock fear and started to laugh at the feisty bitch. To his surprise, she said very little on the journey over. He expected her to plead for her release. Instead, all he got from her was a cold, penetrating, hate-filled stare. Ivan had to hand it to the woman; she was tougher than most men he¡¯d encountered when faced with the same eventual end. His laughter swiftly changed to anger when she got up and started to run. He decided to give her a head start before boring down on her. There was no way this bitch was going to outrun him with her hands tied behind her back. As he closed the gap, he decided to teach her a lesson. Rather than just grabbing and stopping her, he tackled her around the shoulders and drove her face-first into the ground with the entire force of his weight behind it. Mr. Smith was pissed after he witnessed the pile driver that the Russian had just administered. He wanted to use Kim as a pawn, not a punching bag. He reminded himself never to work with Russians again after this was over. When Rakov returned with his prisoner in tow, he said, ¡°Now, was that necessary?¡± Ivan shrugged with a smile, ¡°The bitch was trying to escape!¡± Mr. Smith clenched his jaw and shook his head after he looked at Kim¡¯s face. The man was clearly sadistic and would have made the perfect prison guard at Auschwitz. He gave Ivan a hard stair, then pulled out a knife and cut her plastic hand restraints from behind her back. He looked at her bloodied wrists and pulled out a new set of restraints from his pocket. He put the new cuffs on in front this time and not as tight. Kim was surprised by this small sympathetic gesture, although she wasn¡¯t fooled. She knew that he could just as easily kill her without the slightest hint of remorse. After he was finished, he paused and waited for a thank you. After realizing that none was forthcoming, he turned to his men and gave them their orders. ***** Chuah had several near misses and left a whole lot of people scared to death in his wake, but he had closed the gap considerably. They had just finished traversing an unpopulated winding coastal road at speeds twice the legal limit and were now entering an area of beach resorts, local homes, businesses, and shops. They were still just over a mile and a half to Shawn¡¯s house, and it would be much slower going now. Jesse took out his cell phone and tried to call Shawn again, knowing that the jammer was probably doing its job. The phone just rang without an answer again. He was about to end the call when a woman answered. Jesse listened for a moment and was confused. He handed the phone to Chuah and told him to slow down while he talked. Jesse listened as Chuah spoke in his native tongue. He soon ended the call and handed the cell phone back to Jesse without an explanation as he sped back up. ¡°Well, what the hell was that all about?¡± Jesse asked. ¡°You got the wrong number. That was one of the women that works in the kitchen at the Mongoose Club. She doesn¡¯t speak English very well and was wondering why you are leaving her messages.¡± ¡°Shit, the contact was written in Thai on Susan¡¯s screen, and I just assumed it was correct. She must have clicked on the wrong contact, and I didn¡¯t confirm it; no wonder Shawn didn¡¯t pick up.¡± Jesse was angry with himself for not double-checking the number. He knew it was useless to try calling Kim, so he did the next best thing. After he redialed the number, he handed the phone back to Chuah and told him to get Susan¡¯s cell number from the woman. If she didn¡¯t have it, he wanted her to track her down and have Susan call him immediately. It didn¡¯t take long. Jesse¡¯s phone buzzed again. He looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Susan Wong. When he answered the call, Susan apologized over and over again for her mistake. The two numbers were next to each other on her list of contacts, and she must have given Jesse the wrong one. Chapter 66 Chapter 66 Shawn enjoyed the solitude of his balcony overlooking the vastness of the sea, and it always gave him great comfort. But not tonight; he was restless. He hadn¡¯t heard from Kim for quite a while. He had tried her cell phone repeatedly without success, and he was getting very nervous. Overhead, the stars filled the sky, but he could see lightning flashing from a fast-approaching thunderstorm on the western horizon. He hoped the storm would pass, although he wasn¡¯t counting on it. The night was warm and perfect, yet he wasn¡¯t enjoying it. He knew the men that killed Addison were still out there hunting for him. He felt like a fool for starting this whole affair. How naive could he be? What really would it change anyway? The powers that be could always spin a story to make a lie look like the truth and the truth to look like a lie. And the mainstream media in the U.S. would loyally embrace the lie if it coincided with their beliefs, regardless of the facts. Now, it all came down to this. He was not only endangering his own life but the lives of those he loved¡­and for what¡­Justice, truth, honor, good versus evil? The world scoffed at these virtues and would rather believe a lie than believe the truth. Maybe it was his mother who taught him to do the right thing, or perhaps it was the army that instilled in him honor and duty. But whatever it was, and despite his many shortcomings, Shawn believed in all these things. Being a bastard himself, he didn¡¯t want to have any children. Besides, he knew he wouldn¡¯t exactly be the perfect role model for any child. Kim and Kasem were his only family, and he would do anything to protect them. He decided he needed some company to take his mind off his problems, so he got up and joined Kasem and Tim in the living room to do something that he rarely did. Watch television. ***** They were only a half mile from Shawn¡¯s house now, but it was through painstakingly slow traffic, and Jesse could only watch the drama unfolding before his eyes. At one point, he contemplated calling the police. Nevertheless, he felt that his team would have a better chance at keeping the people inside the home alive, let alone answering some very awkward questions that the police would surely have. As he contemplated this, he wondered if he had made the right decision. ***** Ivan stayed close to Smith while his Russian companion climbed to the second-floor balcony on the west end of the home. As his head peered over the balcony deck, he could see three men sitting inside through a large unobstructed window, and he immediately informed Mr. Smith that the target had been acquired. Communicating by radio using lip mics and earphones, Mr. Smith¡¯s men were all in position when he gave the order to enter the home. The two Thai men had climbed onto two of the bedroom balconies. The interior doors leading to the deck were closed and locked, and they immediately started working on them with picklock tools. ***** After meeting with Jesse, Clayson looked up Sydney¡¯s CIA file. He read its entire content and came away with the feeling that it had been scrubbed clean. It was too perfect. Robert Townsend stepped into Clayson¡¯s office and shut the door. Townsend was a longtime friend and former classmate at the farm whom Clayson trusted emphatically. Because of the nature of the investigation, Clayson wanted to play it close to the vest and involve as few people as possible. After their greeting and small talk ended, Clayson finally got down to business. Clayson wanted Townsend to travel to Florida and interview two men. Clayson handed him the official report from 1975 on the death of a CIA analyst named Peter Jensen, who the two investigators determined was killed by an NVA infiltrator. He wanted Townsend to confirm their story. If they stuck to it, he wanted to know why Sydney Perotti¡¯s name was never mentioned in their report. Townsend was never to disclose why he was asking about the current president. Nor were the two men he interviewed to discuss their meeting with Townsend with anyone. Townsend returned to his office and read the report on Peter Jensen¡¯s death. When he finished, he could see nothing sinister in the it. It appeared to be straightforward. He also read the sanitized file versions of both investigators. He found them to be as opposite as night and day. From the beginning, Christopher Page was a problem child, and every supervisor assigned to him had nothing good to say about the man. Townsend wasn¡¯t surprised that Page was finally let go in 1985, although the details weren¡¯t in his file. On the other hand, William Brown was praised by everyone he worked with. Brown had a long, stellar career with the agency and finally retired after thirty years of service and took up charter fishing. Townsend cleared his schedule for the next few days and made arrangements to fly to Miami, Florida. After setting up his appointments with Christopher Page and Billy Brown, he drove the short distance to West Palm Beach for the interview with Page first. From his short phone conversation with the man, Townsend knew Page would be trouble. But he had no idea what he was in for. Page lived in a rundown brick rambler in a modest neighborhood of West Palm Beach. They say that first impressions are often times correct. And from the looks of the home and unkempt yard, Joseph braced himself for the worst. He wasn¡¯t disappointed. Page greeted Townsend at the door and asked to see his creds. After confirming his identity and flicking his cigarette into the yard, which contained more weeds than grass, he reluctantly let Townsend enter his home. Townsend entered the hovel and was hit by a wave of disgusting odors that almost floored him. The smell was horrific, and he fought the impulse to gag, but he somehow kept his composure. He looked around, and the only thing worth anything of value was a large flat-screen TV, which looked fairly new. The rest of the place was a dump. It was littered with trash, rotting food containers, and assorted empty booze bottles. The man was bent over and gaunt, and Townsend guessed that he hadn¡¯t bathed in months. The man reeked of horrific body odor, alcohol, and tobacco smoke. He shuffled his way to a threadbare recliner and fell into it, leaving Townsend to find a place to sit by himself. After removing some debris from a hardwood chair, Townsend sat and took out a recording device from his jacket pocket. Townsend scrutinized the man and could see that he wasn¡¯t long for this life. His hair was long, gray, greasy, and his dark eyes were sunken and completely bloodshot. His face was yellow, spotted, and covered with a straggly beard that matched his unkept hair. His hand shook as he reached for a dirty glass half filled with a clear liquid that Townsend suspected wasn¡¯t water and drank half of its contents. Townsend watched as he lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply. Page looked at the CIA agent with disgust and spoke first. ¡°Doc gave me a mouth to live¡­that was over a year ago. I know I¡¯m going to pay the devil a visit when I die, but he can¡¯t have me just yet. You know, the funny thing is, I felt that old bastard pulling at my soul a few times, and I just told him to go fuck himself. Now how in the hell can I possibly help the C, I fucking A, Mr. Townsend?¡± Townsend had met some interesting people in his life, although none quite like this piece of work. He explained the reason for his visit, and Page listened without interrupting him. When he was finished, the disgusting man started to laugh. ¡°Man, you boys sure are a little slow on the uptake. That happened more than twenty fucking years ago.¡± He finished the glass of clear liquid and pulled a bottle of cheap vodka out from under his chair. He unscrewed the cap and filled his glass to the top. ¡°Shit¡­ more than that.¡± The crude man started to laugh again. ¡°Well, you know¡­I never was too good at math.¡± He took a long drink, set his glass down, and started again. ¡°So just what the hell are you boys digging up this shit for anyway? That poor fuckin kid died just like I said he did in my report, and that¡¯s all I got to say. Now, if you don¡¯t mind, I have some light housekeeping to attend to. My fuckin maid hasn¡¯t showed up for a couple of days now. I¡¯m sure you can find your own way out.¡± Townsend didn¡¯t get up to leave. He continued to go over the man¡¯s report, looking for any holes. Ten minutes later, and with no new answers, Townsend asked his final question. ¡°Did you interview Sydney Perotti as part of your investigation?¡± Townsend was watching Page closely, and he noticed the sudden change in his expression, but he quickly composed himself despite all the alcohol in his system. Page slowly shook his head, ¡°No¡­ I never interviewed anyone by that name. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, it¡¯s time for me to take a shit, and I may be at it for quite some time, so feel free to let yourself out.¡± Townsend didn¡¯t move. ¡°I just have one more question for you, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± Without waiting for a reply, he said, ¡°Did you purposely falsify your report to protect someone?¡± Page just chuckled at his question before his laughter then turned to rage. ¡°Get the fuck out of my house¡­ right fucking now.¡± ***** Billy Brown was a breath of fresh air. He was quite the opposite of Page. He was charming, cordial, and witty. Brown ran a charter fishing boat out of Key West and had a long list of repeat customers. He told Townsend that during their investigation into Jensen''s death, Page was the lead investigator, and Brown was a rookie. After arriving in Xuan Lok, it soon became apparent to Brown that he would be totally left out of the investigation. Page didn''t care about finding the truth. He was drunk most of the time and spent way too much time with Sydney Perotti at the local watering holes. He suspected that Page was trying to get into her pants, but she didn''t want anything to do with that prick. But he also believed that she led him on, and in the end, the only thing he got from her was a payoff. Brown told Townsend that the investigation was a farce, and he did not believe a word in Pages'' report. When Brown returned to Saigon, he complained about Page and never worked with him again. When the interview was over, Townsend was offered a fishing trip at a much-reduced rate, but he kindly turned his offer down. He was too busy but stated that he would like to at another date when he had more free time. Townsend liked the man. ***** Shawn looked over at the two men sitting on his sofa. Kasem had his head back and was clearly sleeping while Tim was watching a movie. He was about to get up and make himself something to eat when the security lights overlooking the deck came on. He glanced out the living room window and instantly knew they were in trouble. He saw a man dressed entirely in black running toward the open kitchen door. What concerned him more than anything was the automatic weapon that was in his hands. As the man neared the door, all Shawn said was, ¡°Shit.¡± He had placed his loaded pistol on the kitchen countertop, and there was no way he could get to it before the gunman got there first. Then he heard glass breaking from the lower level of the home. Apparently, he hadn¡¯t come alone. Shawn reached over, grabbed Kasem by the arm, and pulled him off the sofa. At the same time, he yelled at Tim. ¡°Get up, we have company.¡± Tim seemed to be totally surprised by Shawn¡¯s command, but he instinctively knew something was wrong and immediately got up to follow him. As he did, he saw the man on the deck coming fast. ***** The gunman entered the thirty-foot-long living room and could see the men escaping at the opposite end of the room. He could have easily killed at least two of the fleeing men, but he had been given strict instructions not to kill Harris before Smith had a chance to question him. The gunman raised his suppressed H&K 416 assault rifle and fired a burst of 5.56¡Á45mm NATO rounds into the ceiling above their heads, hoping to stop them in their tracks. The gunman watched as the men disappeared through a doorway as dust from the ruined drywall slowly drifted to the floor. His ploy didn¡¯t work. He yelled into his lip mic that he had failed to stop them and that they were heading deeper into the home. In reply, Mr. Smith ordered him to follow the fleeing men, but under no circumstances was he to fire at them again. The gunman acknowledged and cautiously continued his pursuit. ***** The home was designed with an open central staircase and open hallways that overlooked the main atrium from every level. When the trio reached the hallway, Shawn stopped and spun around. He had only seconds to make a decision before the gunman was on them, and the game was over. Shawn knew that one 9mm automatic was no match against assault rifles. He would have to even up the odds if they had any chance. He kept two gun safes in his home; one in the lower level just off his exercise room and another in his bedroom on the next floor up. Both contained an assortment of assault rifles, shotguns, and handguns. The kitchen had another entrance through the large dining room that connected to the main hallway. Shawn was confident that Choi could handle himself, but his main concern was Kasem¡¯s safety. He told Choi to take Kasem and double back around to the kitchen, grab his handgun, slip out over the deck, and try to escape. Without arguing, Tim nodded, and the two men quietly slipped into the dining room. After the door closed behind them, Shawn had no time to second-guess his decision. It was time to move. He had to make an offensive counterattack if they were to survive. ***** Shawn had no idea how many men he was up against, although he was pretty sure it was at least the same number that attacked Choi at his office. He calculated that most of the men would be on the main level, and he had to assume that at least one would come in through one of the upper bedrooms of the balconies. He sprinted down the hallway and, without hesitation, crossed the open area of the foyer that led to the staircase. He was almost to the stairs when the gunman rounded the corner from the living room. As his right foot hit the first tread, he looked across the semi-darkened foyer and spotted three figures silhouetted against the light marble floor 20 feet from the stairs. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. One of the men in the foyer yelled out for him to stop, but Shawn wasn¡¯t about to comply. Rakov instinctively raised his weapon and opened up on Shawn, to the total dismay of Mr. Smith. He slammed his hand down on Rakov¡¯s weapon, sending the slugs ricocheting off the floor. ¡°I told you that I want him alive, you fucking idiot,¡± Smith yelled into Rakov¡¯s face. Ivan was furious. He wanted to turn his weapon on Smith, yet somehow, he managed to control himself. ***** Choi and Kasem were almost to the kitchen when they heard shouts and muffled gunshots. Kasem wanted to go back, but Choi pulled him forward. They entered the kitchen, and Choi found the gun on the countertop and peered out onto the deck. It was void of life. Choi had no intention of just leaving his old friend to fend for himself. He looked around the corner of the kitchen and into the living room. The gunman wasn¡¯t there. He quickly helped Kasem over the edge of the deck railing and instructed him to go for help while he returned to help Shawn. Kasem agreed and started down as Choi disappeared into the kitchen. Only a third of the way down, Kamen¡¯s hand slipped, and he fell on the uneven ground below, severely twisting his ankle in the process. Undaunted, he tried to stand, but the pain was too great, and he fell to the ground again. Unable to stand, he crawled to find something he could use as a crutch. His car was in the driveway but didn¡¯t have his keys. They were on the kitchen counter, and he should have remembered them. He cursed himself for this oversight, then thought about the Range Rover in the garage; the same problem: Shawn never left his keys in the ignition. He finally decided that he had to make it on foot. Nothing was going to stop him except maybe a bullet. ***** Choi ran silently through the living room until he came to the spot just outside the hallway where the plaster littered the floor. He eased his head around the corner leading to the hallway and saw the gunman slowly moving down the hall with his back toward him. Tim checked the safety and started to raise the gun to take aim. Just as he was about to acquire his target, the gunman looked back over his shoulder and saw him. ***** The stair treads at Shawn¡¯s feet seemed to come alive like a mass of swarming bees. He felt a sudden sting on his thigh but kept on going. He reached the top of the stairs and ran for his bedroom, not bothering to check his injured leg. Just as he reached his door, he could feel a presence behind him in the darkened hallway, and he whipped around just as another intruder stepped out of his guest bedroom. This man was much smaller than the first attacker, yet no less of a threat. The two men locked eyes for just an instant before Shawn dropped his shoulders and charged. The man had his assault rifle pointed in the opposite direction, and Shawn covered the short distance before the man had a chance to react and lift his weapon. He hit the man like an attacking linebacker bearing down on an opposing quarterback and drove him into the door jamb with all the force of his two hundred pounds behind it. The man took the hit with a groan, and his assault rifle was knocked out on his hands and fell to the floor. Shawn followed the bull rush with a succession of right and left hooks into the man¡¯s midsection and a knee to the groin. The man seemed to stagger from the damage done to his internal organs. Shawn knew that he had to end this fight quickly and decided to take him out with one rabbit punch to the throat. As his right fist was coming forward, his feet were cut out from underneath him, and he found himself flat on his back. The much younger man recovered very quickly and was all over Shawn in an instant. He hit Shawn with a barrage of jabs, knee and elbow thrusts, and punches, but he was able to block or absorb almost all of them effectively. Realizing that he was getting nowhere, the man tried to pull his rifle out from under Shawn¡¯s legs and end the fight. It was a monumental mistake. As he moved back to retrieve his weapon, Shawn cocked his leg and sent his foot into the side of the man¡¯s face. The powerful blow drove his head against the door jamb, and then continued forward, snapping his head sideways. The man then slumped to the floor. His neck was broken. The entire fight was over in a matter of seconds. Shawn pushed the dead man off of his legs and grabbed the man¡¯s rifle. He got to his knees and was about to get up when several slugs splintered the door casing just inches from his head. He dropped to the floor and looked for the shooter. The man was tucked into a doorway at the far end of the hallway. He must have come through the balcony from one of the other bedrooms. Shawn ducked into the guest bedroom and returned fire. He was checking the weapons magazine when he heard a man¡¯s voice call out his name. ***** Choi ducked back into the living room and looked for a place to hide. The room was fairly dark except for the changing light that was coming off the flat-screen TV. The man would be on him fast, and Choi had to make a quick decision. Not finding a suitable hiding place, he was left with no option. He had to engage the gunman or try and make it back to the kitchen. After looking at the distance, he knew he wouldn¡¯t make it in time, so he hit the floor, moved to the darkest spot behind a large, overstuffed chair, and prepared to fire when the man came around the corner. He didn¡¯t have long to wait. The man was very cautious. The man did a quick check of the room and slipped his head back around the corner in the blink of an eye. He knew the man he saw was hiding somewhere in the room, but he had no idea if he was armed. He got a good enough look at him to know that it was the private detective and Mr. Smith didn¡¯t care about him. His only orders were not to kill Harris. The Russian called out, ¡°Come out now, and I promise that I won¡¯t kill you.¡± Choi kept silent. ¡°We don¡¯t want to hurt you. We only want to talk with Mr. Harris,¡± he said in English with a heavy Russian accent. He got no response. ¡°So you want to do this the hard way,¡± the Russian snarled. He stuck his weapon around the corner and opened up without aiming. He sprayed the room from side to side, moving his pattern from knee level to the floor. When his mag was empty, he pulled it out and reloaded. He did another quick check and only found destroyed furniture and a few sparks and smoke coming off the ruined TV set. The man then eased into the room with his weapon at his shoulder, ready to fire. The Russian spotted Choi on the floor, although it was a bit too late. The slug hit the Russian hard. Tim was sure that he had killed the man, but to his surprise, it had little to no effect. It was as if he had just slapped an eight-hundred-pound gorilla, and it just pissed him off. In the blink of an eye, the Russian recovered and aimed the barrel of his assault rifle down to the dark figure on the floor. ***** ¡°I don¡¯t wish to harm you, Shawn. I only want to talk with you.¡± As soon as the words were out of Smith¡¯s mouth, Shawn heard the sounds of a sound-suppressed automatic weapon being fired somewhere in his home. ¡°Oh yeah, well, what the hell was that?¡± Smith shook his head and was about to answer when he heard the loud report of a 9mm handgun. He turned his head toward the hallway entrance just as another shot rang out, followed by a loud thud that vibrated through the floor. Smith motioned for Rakov to investigate and turned his attention back to Shawn. ¡°You have something that my employer wants. If you give it to me, we will leave you in peace. If not, I will kill you and everyone in this house and burn it to the ground.¡± ¡°And just who the hell is your employer¡­that fucking bitch?¡± The last three words puzzled Smith, and he wondered who he was talking about. Maybe there was something the Ali hadn¡¯t told him. ¡°And what fucking bitch are you referring to, Shawn? ¡°Don¡¯t play games with me asshole. You know who I¡¯m talking about.¡± But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he thought maybe the asshole didn¡¯t. He was just hired to do a job. Now Smith was curious and wondered what he was missing, ¡°I¡¯m afraid that I don¡¯t know. Please enlighten me, Shawn.¡± ¡°Fuck you, asshole,¡± Shawn responded as he reached out and dragged the lifeless body of the assailant into the room. He found a fresh mag on the dead man''s belt and inserted it into the rifle. He did a quick check of the hallway, then stuck the rifle into the hall and pulled the trigger, giving him just enough fire cover to move to his bedroom a few feet away. Usually, Shawn always kept his gun safes locked, but ever since the attack at Tim¡¯s office, he kept them open, knowing that this day could possibly come. He grabbed a Remington 870 12 gauge shotgun off the rack preloaded with double ought buckshot. He pumped the handle and jacked a shell into the chamber. Working fast, he picked up his H&K P2000 9mm handgun, inserted a fresh mag into the pistol grip, and racked the slide, chambering a round in the barrel. He threw the gun hoister over his shoulder and secured the Velcro strap against his chest. He then pulled out his cell phone and looked for a signal. Nothing. Undaunted, he inserted the handgun into the holster, filled his pockets with extra shotgun shells and two additional mags for the P2000, and then moved to the edge of the door, not bothering to look at his bleeding leg. It was only a flesh wound. Well-armed now, Shawn felt more confident about his eventual survival. He was concerned about the gunfire that he had heard. He suspected that the loud report was his 9mm and that Choi must have disobeyed his orders. Shawn smiled when he thought about it because he would have done the same thing. He knew Choi could handle himself but had no time to think of the outcome. He was about to look into the hallway when he saw a red laser pass slowly across the doorjamb and onto the back of the bedroom wall. Now, he had to make a decision and do it quickly. He could either confront the man in the hallway or go out of his balcony and come back in again through another level with the element of surprise on his side. He decided to do both. He moved to the edge of the doorway and peered around the corner. He could see the silhouette of a man kneeling close to the staircase landing, just thirty feet away. He was sure that it was the same man who had fired at him from the far end of the hallway. He ducked his head back behind the security of the wall and, at the same time, checked to make sure the shotgun¡¯s safety was off. He took a deep breath, and in one swift move, he raised the shotgun to his shoulder and brought the end of the barrel around the corner. As his head cleared the door jamb, a red dot crossed his forehead. The gunman¡¯s reaction to what his eyes saw and the time it took for his brain to register and process it was too late. He fired, but his gun barrel had already passed its target, and the slugs slammed into a chest of drawers at the far end of the bedroom. An instant later, Shawn fired his shotgun, sending the 12-gage buckshot down the hall. The single shotgun blast took the man down instantly, with five of the eight large pellets hitting the man in the neck and face. Shawn pumped another shell into the chamber and searched for another target. There was none. ***** Choi didn¡¯t panic; his years of martial arts training had taught him discipline and self-control. He reacquired his enemy, but this time, he aimed for the center of the Russian¡¯s large head instead of his body. And as fate would have it, he fired the same time as the Russian. **** Ivan moved slowly down the hallway with his weapon on his shoulder, searching for any sign of trouble. He checked every room as he passed until he came to the living room entrance. The room was dark, but he could see a big man lying on the floor with a pool of blood surrounding his head. He took one look at the hole in his friend¡¯s forehead and started to curse in Russian. Ivan entered the room and saw a much smaller man also on the floor in a pool of blood around his head. He bent down and looked at his face. ¡°You didn¡¯t slip your way out of this one, old man.¡± Fifteen seconds later, he was back at Mr. Smith¡¯s side with the news. Smith called out in his lip mic to his other team members and was dismayed when he got no response. Without hesitation, Smith whispered something into Rakov¡¯s ear, and he left the room. Smith smiled at Kim, then yelled out to Shawn to buy some time for Rakov to get into position. ***** Shawn was about to exit his bedroom and enter his balcony when he heard his name being called out again, a name that he hadn¡¯t used since he left the U.S. decades ago. ¡°Mr. Harris, I salute you. I assume that you have killed my two Thi friends. You are a far more capable man than I anticipated. I¡¯m not going to beat around the bush. You have something that I want, and I¡¯m prepared to make a trade for it. We will leave once I have what I came for, and no harm will come to anyone in this home. You have my word,¡± Smith yelled up the staircase. Shawn froze in his tracks, and fear gripped his soul. Did this man have Kasem, or perhaps both Choi and Kasem? He didn¡¯t want to banter with the man and lose his advantage, but he needed to find out what he had to trade because he already knew what he wanted. He stepped to the edge of the doorway and answered Smith. ¡°You¡¯ll leave us just like you did Tim Choi¡¯s assistant?¡± Shawn yelled down the hallway. ¡°That was an unintended mistake¡­but unfortunately, sometimes there is collateral damage. I promise you that if you give me what I want, no one will be harmed,¡± Mr. Smith replied, trying to sound sincere. ¡°Right¡­you know¡­I was born at night, but not last night. So what do you want, and what do you have to trade for it?¡± ¡°I believe you have in your possession an encrypted file that doesn¡¯t belong to you¡­a file that dates back to your days in Vietnam. Once I have this file and your assurance that there are no copies, this whole affair will come to an end. Now, as for the thing I have to trade, I believe you know a woman by the name of Kim Lee.¡± Shawn¡¯s heart was pierced when he heard Kim¡¯s name, not by any bullet or knife, but by a stabbing pain of emotion that was just as effective. He was at a loss for words and remained silent, thinking of all the ramifications of this new information. The advantage had just swung in this man¡¯s favor by mentioning a name. Did he have her with him now, or was she being held someplace else? He had to find out. ¡°How do I know that you have her?¡± Mr. Smith was pleased with these few words. Despite his losses, he knew he held the upper hand. ¡°She¡¯s right here at my side. Do you wish to speak with her?¡± Smith said smugly. ¡°Kim, talk to me, baby,¡± Shawn said with an obvious groaning in his voice. Smith removed her gag, and Kim yelled out, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me; just kill these bastards. There are two upstairs and ----.¡± Smith instantly grabbed Kim¡¯s hair by the back of her head with one hand and slapped her hard across the face. He then shoved the gag back into her mouth and tied it tight behind her head. ¡°That¡¯s not what I told you to say, Miss Lee.¡± He got right in her face and clenched his teeth. When Kim remained defiant, he pulled her to the floor by her hair. At the sound of the slap and of Kim¡¯s crying out in pain, Shawn slumped to the floor, and tears started to form in his eyes. He was angry with himself for putting the people he loved in harm¡¯s way and for not telling Kim about the letter and the possible consequences that it might bring. For one of the few times in his life, Shawn didn¡¯t know what to do. He finally yelled out, ¡°Don¡¯t you hurt her, or I will kill you¡­and that¡¯s a promise, asshole.¡± Mr. Smith¡¯s anger rose, and he yelled, ¡°Then give me what I want and your promise to end this matter, and I won¡¯t have to hurt her anymore.¡± Shawn had to find out what happened to Choi. If he escaped, there might be a chance that the police were on their way. He decided to find out. ¡°Do you have Choi, my housekeeper, and my man at the gate?¡± Mr. Smith didn¡¯t want to tell the man that Choi and the Russians had killed each other, so he lied and took a chance. ¡°Yes, I have all three of them. Do you want to speak with them also?¡± Mr. Smith was relieved with his answer. ¡°Okay...I¡¯ll give you what you want¡­but first, you have to let all of them go. Just send them up the staircase, and I¡¯ll give you its location. I promise there are no other copies, and I won¡¯t pursue this further.¡± Shawn knew this man wouldn¡¯t buy it, but it would give him time to switch guns. If he had to make a headshot, he needed an accurate rifle instead of a scattergun. ¡°I think we both know that¡¯s not going to happen, Shawn¡­but I¡¯ll tell you what is. If you don¡¯t come down the stairs with your hands in the air in the next minute, I¡¯m going to shoot your friend Mr. Choi in the head. And a minute after that, I¡¯m going to shoot your housekeeper, and of course, after that¡­.well, you get the idea. Now it¡¯s up to you if they live or die, so what will it be, Shawn?¡± Because of their silence, Shawn assumed that they were all gagged. He was absolutely sure that as soon as these men got what they wanted, they would all be killed. On the other hand, if he sat back and did nothing, all the people he cared about would be killed one by one, and he was powerless to stop it. The clock was ticking, and he decided to see if he could get a head shot on one of the men. Shawn moved down the hallway, and as he passed the guest bedroom, he quickly checked inside. ¡°You have just half a minute left, Mr. Harris.¡± Shawn finally reached the top floor landing. He crouched down next to the other dead man while trying to avoid the pool of blood that was forming around his head. Very cautiously, he then peered down on the main entry foyer. It was drenched in darkness except for a small amount of defused light coming through the opaque glass panels on either side of the main door from the outside entry lights. He looked down both hallways, searching for any threats, and found none. Shawn had no targets anywhere, and his inward clock told him that his time was about to expire. ¡°Times up, Shawn.¡± Moments later, another single gunshot broke the silence. Shawn hung his head, and agony gripped his heart. Then his agony turned to rage. He stood and fully intended to charge the enemy because they were all dead anyway. But his plan was cut short before it even began. He looked over his shoulder and saw a large, dark figure pointing something straight at him from only eight feet away. Chapter 67 Chapter 67 Chuah tried to avoid the motorbike, but his speed and momentum failed to maneuver the heavy SUV in time to avoid the crash. The impact wasn¡¯t as bad as Jesse thought it would be, yet it was bad enough. The driver of the motorbike was thrown on top of the hood, and the small young man crashed into the windshield without breaking it. Jesse watched in horror as he rolled off the windshield and onto the street. Even before the SUV finally came to a stop, Jesse was out of the vehicle to see if he could help the stricken man. He was at his side in an instant, checking for any injuries as the young man lay semi-conscious on the ground, groaning in pain. He was happy to see that he had on a safety helmet and that there were no apparent broken bones, although he was concerned that he might have sustained internal injuries. Jesse looked back as Ken and Chuah approached them. Then, to his amazement, he saw the young man sit up and start to curse in his native tongue. Jesse knew a few of these words that were universal to every language, but he still needed Chuah to interrupt. Then the young man stood, took off his helmet, brushed himself off, and started to walk over to his ruined motorbike. Chuah and the young man spoke in a heated conversation before Chuah turned to Ken and Jesse. Chuah said, "He says he''s fine and that he''s sorry for the accident." Jesse was instantly relieved. "What does a motorbike like that cost?" he asked Chuah. Chuah looked at the mangled Honda Click and said, "About fifty thousand Baht or about $1,600 U.S. dollars." "Ask him again if he has any injuries." Chuah did. "He said his right leg and shoulder are the only things that hurt. He insists that he''s ok." Satisfied, Jesse returned to the SUV, opened the rear tailgate door, and pulled out a mid-sized black bag. He opened a side pocket, and after finding what he was looking for, he walked back to the three men standing by the motorbike that Ken had dragged off the road. Jesse handed Chuah $5,000 U.S. Dollars. "Give him this money and tell him we''re very sorry for the accident. It should be enough to buy another motorbike and care for his injuries." Chuah just looked at him and said, "For that amount of money, I would''ve taken that hit." "Just give it to him and get his name and cell number. I want to check up on him after this is over." Chuah nodded and went to speak to the man. Jesse¡¯s anxiety was mounting with each passing minute. He was torn between his moral obligation to the young man, a man he didn¡¯t even know, and the fate of his friend less than a mile away. Finally, all three were back in the SUV, and on the road again. They were close. But could they get there in time to save Shawn and his friends? ¡°How long,¡± Jesse asked. ¡°Very soon¡­that¡¯s all I can tell you,¡± Chuah responded. ***** Shawn spun around and tried to bring his weapon up, but it was too late. Knowing that he had the man, Ivan Rakov smiled and fired his weapon. The twin darts from the M26 Taser hit Shawn squarely in the chest, sending 50,000 volts of electricity surging through his body, effectively immobilizing him instantly. The charge sent Shawn sprawling to the floor, and his whole body went rigid. Ivan was on top of him before he could recover as Shawn tried to fight back with limbs that didn¡¯t quite fully respond. Ivan placed a handheld Taser against the side of Shawn¡¯s neck, and another surge of electricity jolted through his body. With his captive in complete control, Ivan relieved Shawn of his weapons, bound his arms behind his back with plastic ties, and then did the same to his legs. Satisfied with his job, Ivan spoke into this lip mic and informed Mr. Smith that he had Harris secured and under control. Ivan grabbed Shawn by his shirt collar, dragged him down the staircase, and purposely banged his head against the stair treads several times on the way down. Smith, who had turned on the foyer lights, was waiting for him with Kim at his side. He had removed her gag and forced her to stay on the floor. She cried softly at the sight of the man she loved being mistreated. Shawn looked up at Kim, and he could see the agony on her face. His heart was broken at the sight. Her face was bloodied and bruised, and he felt ashamed that he couldn¡¯t protect her. He did a quick scan of the room and was a little confused when he didn¡¯t see Kasam or Choi or any blood on the floor. Mr. Smith looked at Kim with unmoving eyes and said to Shawn, ¡°This could have all been so easy¡­unfortunately, you wanted to do it the hard way. Ivan, please help Mr. Harris off the floor and hold him from behind so I can talk with him politely face to face and man to man.¡± Ivan let out a small laugh and complied with Smith¡¯s request. Ivan roughly pulled Shawn off the floor and held him firm by his arms. Smith moved forward until he was face to face with Shawn and asked in a very calm tone. ¡°Now that I have your undivided attention, why don¡¯t you spare yourself and your friends a lot of pain and give me what I come for¡­otherwise I¡¯m going to let my sadistic associate have his way with your girlfriend, and after he¡¯s through with her¡­well you¡¯re a smart guy¡­I¡¯m sure you get the idea. Now, I¡¯m only going to ask you this one time. Where is the document?¡± ¡°What have you done with Choi, my housekeeper and gateman?¡± Shawn asked with more than a bit of concern in his voice. ¡°Mr. Choi is no longer among the living. I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s what happens when you play with guns. As for your housekeeper and you¡¯re so-called security man, they are tied up and safe for the moment,¡± Smith lied. Shawn looked at Kim, who was shaking her head. He knew that these men would kill them the instant they got what they wanted, but he wasn¡¯t going to let the ugly Russian touch Kim. His only hope was to distract the asshole standing in front of him. Smith was too close, and Shawn saw his opportunity. Despite being held tightly by Rakov, Shawn lunged forward and head-butted Smith squarely on the nose. The surprise move caught Smith off guard, and he instantly backed up and touched his bleeding nose. In the blink of an eye, he was all over Shawn. He pummeled him repeatedly with blows to the head and body until his rage subsided and his cool demeanor returned. Smith looked at Ivan coldly and said, ¡°I told you to hold him. Was that too much to ask?¡± Ivan didn¡¯t respond, although inwardly, he was very pleased with himself. Smith then brought his attention back to Shawn and said, ¡°So I take it by your response that your answer was a ¡°no¡± or were you just showing some bravado for your girlfriend?¡± Shawn spit a glob of blood from his bleeding mouth and said, ¡°Fuck you¡­ go to hell, you prick.¡± ¡°Oh, that was quite novel. You disappoint me, Shawn. From someone of your background, I was hoping for a well done. You bested me fair and square. I¡¯m very disappointed in you, Shawn. You sadly responded like all the men I¡¯ve beaten¡­with vulgarity in the face of defeat. Oh, and another thing, I personally don¡¯t believe in hell¡­but if there is such a place, I¡¯m almost certain that I have a reservation waiting for me, although I¡¯m pretty sure that it¡¯s not for today.¡± ***** ¡°The gates are just ahead,¡± Chuah announced. Jesse looked up as they finally turned off the main road and onto the private drive. Thirty yards ahead, Jesse could see the black wrought iron gate illuminated by the SUV¡¯s lights. He hoped to have eyes in the sky, but that was not in the cards. He would not have a satellite over Shawn¡¯s home for another half hour. They would have to go in blind. The gate was closed, and Ken was out of the vehicle before it stopped. With his flashlight, Ken found the gate switch and the jumper wire still attached at two different terminals and concluded that the intruders must have bypassed the gate alarm. Ken hit the gate switch and hoped it would still work. Nothing happened; the gate remained closed. Chuah jumped out of the SUV and was about to assist Ken when he heard a soft click and the hum of an electric motor as the gate started to open. Chuah waved at Ken, and both men got back into the SUV just as the gates were fully open. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ***** Smith nodded at Rakov, who sneered with delight because he had just been given permission to do what he loved, inflicting pain on others. Knowing what was about to come, Shawn lunged backward and caught Ivan off guard, driving him into the stairs. Ivan let out a groan as Shawn landed on top of him. Shawn tried to turn and face Rakov so he could use his bound legs and head against the man, but Rakov was too strong. He easily pushed Shawn away, pulled out his handheld taser, and delivered another burst of electricity through his body. Immobile and helpless, Ivan went after Shawn with a vengeance. Smith held Kim, who was openly sobbing now at the sight of her man being beaten to death. Smith had finally seen enough. ¡°That¡¯s enough, Ivan.¡± Rakov ignored his command and continued to inflict more punishment on Shawn. Smith yelled out, ¡°I said that¡¯s enough. I need that document, and I want him alive so he can tell me where it is. He can¡¯t tell me if he¡¯s dead, you idiot.¡± Ivan stopped and glared at Smith until he looked away and backed off. Smith was concerned that Harris¡¯s housekeeper had somehow slipped out of their hands. If he had gone for the police, they didn¡¯t have much time and searching for the document wasn¡¯t an option. He wasn¡¯t even sure that Harris had it at his home. Smith told Ivan to hold Kim and not hurt her, and then he bent down to look at Shawn. His face was bloodied and starting to swell, but he still remained defiant. ¡°Is he supposed to be your muscle asshole? Because if he is, you¡¯re in trouble, he hits like a fucking little girl.¡± Smith grinned. He had to hand it to the man. He was ballsy. ¡°Shawn¡­I hope I can call you by your first name. I feel like I know you so well.¡± Shawn didn¡¯t respond to his obvious sardonic rhetorical question. ¡°Well¡­I¡¯ll take that as a yes then. Shawn¡­I honestly don¡¯t want to hurt you anymore.¡± Smith let out a long sigh. ¡°But if you don¡¯t give me what I want¡­you will force me to. Now, if you just give me the document, this will all be over, and my associate and I will leave.¡± Shawn had no delusions as to the nature of the man before him. Despite his soft-spoken, pleasant demeanor, this man was a stone-cold killer who took great pleasure in inflicting pain and suffering on others. What these men would do to them after they got the document in their hands wasn¡¯t hard to figure out. He knew he would eventually give in to the pain, but he was going to remain defiant until that moment came. ¡°Why don¡¯t you and your sadistic butt buddy go fuck yourselves?¡± Shawn said through blood-stained teeth. Mr. Smith¡¯s face boiled with rage, but he quickly composed himself. He pushed himself off the floor and motioned for Rakov to continue, much to the delight of the ugly Russian. ***** Chuah drove with his headlights off up the winding drive that led to the top of the hill and Shawn¡¯s home. Jesse was the first to spot him. A man limping was leaning on a broken tree branch as a crutch on the road ahead. He had no visible weapon in sight. Jesse ordered Chuah to stop, and both Jesse and Ken were out of the vehicle with guns drawn in seconds. Kasem immediately dropped his crutch and threw up his hands with a forced smile, a smile that was mixed with fear. Who were these men? Whoever they were looked far more dangerous than any policeman he had ever seen. The conversation only lasted a couple of minutes, and with each passing second, Kasem¡¯s heart rate came down, from threatening to explode from his chest to a mere cardiac arrest. Jesse told him to wait in the guard shack but warned him not to call the police even if he did get a signal. Kasem didn¡¯t argue; he simply nodded and stepped back from the vehicle as it moved forward. Leaving Kasem behind, they soon came upon the assault team''s vehicle. Jesse told Chuah to stop. Jesse got out and checked to see if the keys were in the ignition. The doors weren''t locked, and he found no keys. He then removed his tactical knife and cut the valve stems on the two front tires. He got back in the SUV and told Chuah to proceed. The house came into view, and Jesse said, "Cut the engine and use your emergency brake to stop. I don''t want them to see the brake lights. And take the keys out of the ignition." Chuah complied, and they came to a stop. Once outside the vehicle, they locked, and loaded their weapons. Ken took the lead in a fast sprint, and within seconds, they were outside the main entrance of Shawn''s home. The only light emitted from the inside was in the main entry foyer, and they could see that four people were concentrated there through the opaque glass. However, there was no way to tell the good guys from the bad. Ken tried the door. It was locked. Through a large broken-out window just a short distance from the main door, Jesse could see where some of the men had entered, and he quickly ruled that out. The broken glass would give them away and take away their tactical advantage of surprise. Jesse split up his men and had Ken enter the home through one of the third-floor balconies while he and Chuah entered through the lower level on the backside of the home. He was about to ask Ken if his shoulder was good enough to climb, but he knew that Ken would lie rather than admit that he wasn¡¯t healthy enough, so he let it pass. Ken found the ladder rope the men had used to gain entrance to the top-floor balcony and climbed it with ease, although it bothered his sore shoulder just a bit. He made his way inside the home and entered through a guest bedroom. He found a dead man lying on the floor just inside the doorway with no apparent injury. He checked for a pulse and found none, then stepped over the man and quickly looked into the hallway. At the top of the staircase, he could see an unmoving figure on the floor. The rest of the hallway was clear. He could hear men speaking and the sounds of a woman softly crying. The hallway was dark except for the defused light coming from the main foyer. He stepped into the hall and tested the floor for any unwanted sounds. Finding none, he swiftly moved to the open landing and the unmoving figure beside it. One look at the man¡¯s face, and he knew he didn¡¯t have to check for vital signs. He was clearly dead and informed Jesse very softly of his finds through his lip mic. Ken dropped to the floor and crawled the last few feet, where a large potted palm was placed right next to the edge of the staircase. When he was in position, he peered through the palm branches and staircase banisters to the floor below. ***** Shawn tried to avoid the blows, but with his hands tied behind his back and legs bound, there wasn¡¯t much he could do. He had no idea how he would get out of this bad dream, yet he was determined to try. He decided to just let it go and take the pain because he knew that Smith wasn¡¯t going to let this go on forever. Finally, Smith ordered Ivan to stop again and wondered how much more Harris could take. He again asked Shawn to give him what he wanted, and he told him to go fuck himself in no uncertain terms. Now, Mr. Smith¡¯s patience was running out. ¡°Well, I truly have to commend you on your resolve, Mr. Harris, but unfortunately, my time is running out. I could resort to waterboarding or use a gas mask like the Russians, but in my humble opinion, they¡¯re much too crude. I know, I know, it worked on KSM, but I believe that you are a much tougher man than that pussy ever was.¡± Smith walked over to Shawn and sat on the floor in front of him with his legs crossed. ¡°Now, Shawn, I can¡¯t afford to be here all night ¡­ so I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ve left me with no choice.¡± Mr. Smith waited for a smart retort. When none was forthcoming, he cocked his head sideways to study his captive for a moment, and then he suddenly jumped to his feet. He walked over to Kim and pulled her to her feet by her hair. He removed her gag and asked her to persuade Shawn to give up the document. When she refused, it left him with no option. ¡°Shawn, if you don¡¯t give me what I want before I count to three¡­ I¡¯m going to blow her brains out. It¡¯s your choice, Shawn.¡± After waiting only a few seconds for Shawn to respond, Mr. Smith started to count. ¡°ONE ***** Jesse and Chuah ran to the west end of the home and spotted the cantilevered balcony that jetted over the side of the hill. Directly below it was a pebbled stone apron and patio area surrounding one swimming pool. Jesse spotted a tree very close to the outermost point of the balcony, and from the look of the branches, it appeared to be an easy climb to the balcony railing. Jesse had no way of knowing who the dead men were that Ken had found. They could have been the intruders or with Shawn. Jesse told Ken to key his mic once and leave it open when he got into position and just monitor the situation. He was given the green light to take out the bad guys if any of the hostages were in immediate danger of death, but only under those circumstances. Otherwise, he was only to observe, stay out of sight, and wait for them to get into position. He wanted to take the men alive if possible. They needed answers. From his vantage point, Ken noted that there were two staircases that led to the third floor. One that led to the west side of the home and one that led to the east. They were also connected by an open hall that looked down onto the foyer. The main entryway was wide. Ken estimated the distance to be about thirty feet, with a vaulted ceiling above him. Ken was just off the east staircase landing and he could only see one person in the foyer. It was a woman sitting on the floor with her arms tied together. Then, a man came into view and stopped before he could get a full look at the man. He was mostly hidden by a large group of potted plants and what appeared to be a flowing stream or water garden that Ken guessed to be the central point of the foyer. Suddenly, the conversation stopped, and the partially hidden figure walked from behind the water garden and over to the woman. He pulled her to her feet by her hair and shoved a gun into the side of her neck. He was tall and blond with a hard, chiseled body. The man looked like he could handle himself quite well. He roughly removed her gag and spoke to her, although he couldn¡¯t hear what he was saying. But his next forceful words he did understand. Jesse and Chuah climbed the tree quickly and were on the balcony and heading for the open door when they heard Smith start to count from Ken¡¯s open mic. Ken didn¡¯t know if the man was bluffing, although he suspected he wasn¡¯t. He stuck the short barrel of his assault rifle through the palm and just back from the balusters, then placed the crosshairs on the side of Smith¡¯s head. Ken was a highly trained professional and an expert marksman. He had no problem with taking out the target below him. He hoped Jesse and Chuah could get into position because he couldn¡¯t see the second target. Smith jerked Kim¡¯s head back and yelled out, ¡°ONE.¡± With her head tilted backward, Kim noticed the barrel of a rifle poking through the palm branches and what appeared to be the face of a black man behind it. She instantly knew that this man wasn¡¯t with Smith and his men, and to Smith¡¯s utter surprise, Kim yelled out, ¡°Do it.¡± Mr. Smith looked down into her eyes and said in a confused tone, ¡°Why are you so eager to die, my dear?¡± He pulled her hair back harder and shouted, ¡°TWO.¡± However, when Kim yelled out even louder, ¡°DO IT NOW,¡± Smith had a very bad feeling come over him. He finally realized she wasn¡¯t speaking to him. Chapter 68 Chapter 68 Mr. Smith quickly looked in the direction that Kim was focused on and saw the rifle barrel. His mind told him to move or to just shoot the woman; however, his body didn¡¯t respond. Harris was screaming at him; however, it didn¡¯t really matter at that moment. He knew that he was screwed. ***** Once he was compromised, Ken had no choice, and he gently squeezed the trigger. Smith didn¡¯t see the muzzle flash or feel the impact of the 5.56 x 45 mm NATO cvround as it passed through his brain and blew out the back of his head a millisecond later. He died instantly. But Mr. Smith was wrong about one thing. His reservation was for today, and Ken had just punched his ticket on the express train to hell. Rakov was in his element. He wanted to see the bullet spray the bitch¡¯s brains out. But when the gun report sounded, it was Smith¡¯s head that exploded in a cloud of blood and brain matter, not the woman¡¯s. At first, he was confused; although it didn¡¯t take him long to figure out what happened. Given the direction of the spray pattern, he figured that someone had shot Smith from the upper balcony. Then the bitch started to scream, ¡°There¡¯s another one over there!¡± and she was pointing at him. Seconds later, a man dressed in black came running down the staircase with an assault rifle in his hands, and his self-survival mechanism instantly kicked in. Ivan cursed himself. Like an overconfident amateur, he had propped his assault rifle against the lower staircase railing a few feet away. He could have easily killed Harris with his own gun that he had relieved him of, but he had to pull it first from his waistband, and he was more concerned with the man that was coming down the staircase and a new development. The bitch had picked up Smith¡¯s handgun and was pointing it directly at him. To make matters worse, Harris had rolled up on his legs and was trying to pull him down. ¡°Fucking bitch¡± Ivan muttered to himself. He pulled himself off of Harris and kicked him in the side just as Kim pulled the trigger. ***** The Russian was only a few feet away from Kim, and she was determined to kill him. She wasn¡¯t an expert shot by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, she hated guns. But as she pointed the gun at the man who had terrorized her, she couldn¡¯t hold the gun steady. ***** The bitch had missed him by some miraculous act of the gods, and he knew that his luck was about to run out if he chose to stick around and fight. He felt that he had only one option left, and that was a hasty strategic retreat. He ran down the lower staircase. Ivan grabbed his assault rifle off the railing on his way down the stairs, not bothering to turn and shoot. As his foot hit the second tread, another slug from the Smith¡¯s automatic just missed his hand and sent splinters of wood spraying up into his face and neck. Rakov let out a curse in Russian and raised his weapon to kill the bitch when the man dressed in black rounder the corner. He stepped in front of the woman and opened up on him. Ivan dove down the stairs just in time as the staircase railing started to disintegrate. He tumbled down the stairs as debris rained down from above. Just before Rakov descended the stairs, he saw two dark figures enter the hallway and knew the man hadn¡¯t come alone. When his feet hit the bottom of the stairs, he was out the lower level door seconds later and didn¡¯t bother looking back. ***** When they heard the gunshot, Jesse and Chuah had just entered the living room. Ken shouted out that one bogy was down and that he didn¡¯t have a shot at the second man. Both men then ran through the large, dimly lit living room, and Jesse almost stumbled over a body lying on the floor. As he stopped to look down, he heard another gunshot go off, followed closely by the sound of someone moaning. He noticed another man lying just a few feet away in a dark corner. Both men appeared to be dead. Then he heard the moaning again, coming from the man in the darkened corner. These men were not his immediate concern, and he turned and entered the darkened hallway just as a man sped by the east end twenty-five feet away. They rushed down the hallway, and after taking several steps, Jesse heard Ken¡¯s assault rifle open up on full auto. When the firing stopped, Ken yelled into his lip mic that one of the men had escaped to the lower level. Seconds later, Jesse and Chuah entered the large foyer and spotted Shawn on the floor and a woman at his side. Shawn looked nothing like the man he once knew. He was bound and bleeding, but he was alive. He fought the urge to go to his friend. However, he still had work to do, and he held back. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. After the shooting stopped, Kim dropped the handgun and rushed to Shawn¡¯s side. She virtually fell on top of him and began hugging and kissing him even though it hurt her mouth to do so. Her tears of sorrow had now turned to tears of joy. ¡°Are you all right?¡± Shawn asked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯m fine, but I¡¯m worried about you. You look terrible.¡± ¡°Thanks. I feel terrible. Where¡¯s Kasem? Did they kill him?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, baby. I haven¡¯t seen him. Maybe these men know. Who are they anyway; they don¡¯t look like the police?¡± Shawn glanced at the men and their gear and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡± Ken wanted to go after Rakov and voiced his displeasure when Jesse ordered him to stand down. Jesse''s main concern at the moment was the residents of the home. He gave Ken and Chuah orders to secure the rest of the house and to search the other bodies for ID''s. Ken wasn''t happy but was a good soldier and immediately obeyed his superior''s orders. Jesse bent down and searched Mr. Smith''s lifeless body for any identification. He found none. Jesse was about to turn his attention to Shawn when his sat-phone vibrated. He took the call and walked out of earshot. The call was from Reston, and they wanted to know the outcome at Shawn''s home. He filled them in on the developments and asked about the man who escaped. They had acquired a new satellite link on Shawn''s home, and Jesse was told that a lone figure was heading toward the opposite side of the peninsula. He was also informed about the approaching storm and that they would lose their thermo imaging capabilities very soon. As Kim continued to fuss over Shawn, he finally looked closer at the men who saved their lives. He watched as all three men spoke in soft tones. However, he couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying. He had no idea who these men were; nevertheless, he knew one thing. They weren¡¯t the Thai police. They looked like hired assassins. The conversation soon ended, and the big black man and the much smaller Thai left the room to carry out there orders. When the two men left, the last man took out what looked like a cell phone, turned his back on them, and walked to the far end of the foyer. He could hear the man speaking in low tones, yet not loud enough for him to make out any words. The conversation was short, and then the man turned and faced them once again. The man was much older than the other two men and was obviously the leader. He was dressed from head to toe in black tactical clothing, and although he couldn¡¯t see it, Shawn could tell the man had on a tactical vest. He wore a black baseball-style hat, tight to his brow, with no logo. His hair appeared to be light and graying at the temples. Shawn guessed his weight to be just over two hundred pounds, but it was hard to tell with all the equipment he carried. His clean shaving face was painted in camo paint, and it was hard to fully make out his features. The man didn¡¯t say anything as he approached them, but there was something very familiar about the man. Without saying a word, he bent down and pulled out a tactical folding knife and quickly cut Kim¡¯s hand restraints, then started to work on Shawn. As soon as Shawn¡¯s hands and feet were cut free, Chuah returned with two hot washcloths and a hand towel and gave them to Kim. She thanked him and helped Shawn sit up as Jesse stood and stepped back a few paces while Kim wiped the blood from Shawn¡¯s swollen face. Irritated with all the fuss, he finally said, ¡°That¡¯s enough, honey. I¡¯m fine now. Why don¡¯t you go and clean yourself up? I need to talk with these men.¡± Kim shook her head, took Shawn¡¯s hand, and said, ¡°No, I¡¯m not leaving you.¡± ¡°Please do this for me.¡± Kim reluctantly nodded her head and squeezed his hand, and then she kissed him tenderly. Shawn slowly stood up and walked up to the man and finally got a good look at his face. He hadn¡¯t said a word and stood quietly with a thin smile. As he got closer, the thin smile turned into a broad smile. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are, but I want to thank you for saving us,¡± Shawn said as he extended his hand. ¡°I¡¯m just returning a long overdue favor,¡± Jesse said as he took his hand with a firm grip. At first, the strange answer the man gave him didn¡¯t register. Then, he started to connect the dots. That face, those eyes, that voice. Suddenly, a rush of joy filled him, and he forgot his pain. ¡°Oh my God¡­is that you, Jesse?¡± Shawn said with excitement in his voice. Jesse nodded and said, ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s me, bro. I heard that you were looking for me.¡± Shawn rushed forward, and despite the pain in his body, he embraced his old friend, ¡°Man, I thought you were dead,¡± he said with a cracked voice. ***** Kim hadn¡¯t left the foyer yet, and she watched with quiet reserve as the two men hugged each other. She didn¡¯t know who the man was and was surprised when the two men embraced. She had never seen Shawn cry before, but now she saw tears streaming down his face as if the rusted floodgates were finally pried open. Chapter 69 Chapter 69 The night had turned noticeably cooler, with a strong breeze coming off the ocean from the west. Ivan could hear the rumble of thunder from a rapidly approaching rainstorm. What little light the crescent moon provided was quickly evaporating as the storm clouds moved in. The strong breeze suddenly turned into a strong gale as the front reached the mainland, and the sky above him turned very dark and ominous. As planned, if things went south, they would head for the peninsula''s north side to a remote stretch of beach where they would be picked up by boat. Ivan was fairly sure that the man that killed Smith would come after him. He just didn''t know how many men would be with him. The one thing that he didn''t know was who these men were and how they found them. Perhaps the kid at the security gate had spotted them and called it in when he got out of the cellphone jammers range, but he didn''t think so. Ivan was positive they weren''t the local police because the Thi police simply didn''t have big black men. Moving down the hill, Ivan slipped and fell several times on the dark, unstable ground. Lightning started to flash all around him, and he had a strong feeling of D¨¦j¨¤ vu come over him. The last time he was chased in a thunderstorm, it hadn¡¯t turned out well for him. He tried to pick up the pace and put some distance between himself and his pursuers, but the footing was too treacherous. Ivan fell again, and this time, he landed on his tailbone against a large, sharp rock. The impact sent a wave of pain through his whole body. He pitched sideways, and his right knee struck another rock, ripping open his pant leg and inflecting a large gash on the side of his knee. Ivan cried out in pain, but he quickly caught himself and sucked it up through clenched teeth. He stopped to rest and jumped as a lightning bolt struck with a terrifying crack just up the hill from where he was sitting. Just when he thought that things couldn¡¯t get worse, the sky opened up, and it started to pour, unlike anything he had ever seen before. ***** The two men separated and Shawn asked, ¡°How in the hell did you find me? And don¡¯t tell me that you just happen to be in the neighborhood dressed in full battle gear and ready for a fight.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid that will take much too long to answer right now. First we need to take care of the man in your living room. He¡¯s going to need medical attention. If I¡¯m not mistaken, I believe he¡¯s one of you house quests. It looks like he killed one of the intruders and was shot in the process. One of my men informed me that a bullet just grazed his head. It looks like he lost some blood and I¡¯m sure that he has a concussion but at least he¡¯s alive.¡± Shawn was taken aback by this news and he had no idea if it was Choi or Kasem. He wanted to find out immediately. Upon hearing this news, Kim rushed to the living room followed closely by Shawn and Jesse. Kim entered the living room and found Choi sitting up with his back to the wall. Shawn turned on a table lamp that had miraculously been missed by all the gunfire then bent down to check on his condition. The left side of his head and neck were covered in blood and Shawn asked Kim to get some warm water, towels and bandages. Jesse¡¯s phone vibrated again and he stepped aside to take the call. ¡°How are you, Tim? Shawn asked. He was deeply concerned for his friend. ¡°I have a killer headache. What happened?¡± ¡°It looks like you traded shots with one of the bad guys, and you come out on top.¡± ¡°He¡¯s dead?¡± ¡°If he isn¡¯t, that large hole in his forehead will give him a bigger headache than what you¡¯ve got.¡± ¡°What happened to the rest of them?¡± ¡°One got away. The rest are all dead.¡± ¡°Did you take them out?¡± ¡°Not all of them; we had some unexpected help.¡± Tim looked at the man dressed in black and asked. ¡°Who¡¯s the guy talking on the phone?¡± ¡°He¡¯s one of the good guys¡­.I¡¯ll explain that later. Right now, I just want you to rest. We¡¯re going to clean you up and get you to the hospital. Do you know what happened to Kasem?¡± ¡°The last time I saw him was when I helped him over the deck¡­.and I don¡¯t need to go to the hospital. I¡¯ll be all right; I just need something for my headache.¡± Shawn had seen enough head trauma in Vietnam to know that Choi needed to be in the hospital, but he wasn¡¯t going to press the issue at the moment. Jesse finished his short call and overheard Shawn asking about Kasem. He informed Shawn that he was safe and only slightly injured. When Shawn asked about his man at the gate, Jesse told him they saw him leave on a motorbike just before the bad guys arrived. Shawn pondered this for a minute, and then let it go. He had much bigger fish to fry. Kim arrived with the supplies, and they moved Choi to the sofa, where they cleaned and bandaged his head. A few minutes later, Chuah entered the living room with Kasem, who was still favoring his good leg, and soon they were all gathered around Choi. Kasem leaned over and whispered in Shawn¡¯s ear, ¡°I was waiting in the guard shack like those men told me when Charlie pulled up on his motorbike. He told me that he left his post for just a few minutes to get something to eat. He said he tried to call, but no one answered the intercom, and he had no cell phone service. He feels terrible about what happened.¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Shawn nodded and rubbed the stubble on his chin. ¡°Thanks, Kasem; I¡¯ll have a talk with him later. By the way, where is he now?¡± ¡°We left him to watch the gate.¡± ¡°Good.¡± ¡°I found their jammer and disabled it. Our cell phones should work now if the approaching storm doesn¡¯t take it down again.¡± Chuah said to Jesse. Shawn overheard this and said, ¡°Jammer?¡± in a questioning tone. Jesse explained, and Shawn nodded and said, ¡°Well, that explains some things.¡± Ken entered the room. He approached Jesse and said softly, ¡°Rakov is the one that got away. Are we going to track him down?¡± Jesse didn¡¯t answer him immediately; first, he wanted to get these people medical attention. ¡°Shawn, I¡¯m going to have one of my men drive all of you to the hospital. We have your home secured and will stay and clean up until you return. I have a team of men coming to care for the bodies.¡± Shawn looked at Jesse skeptically and asked, ¡°I overheard your man. What are you going to do about the Russian?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got that under control,¡± was Jesse¡¯s short answer. Shawn looked at him skeptically and said, ¡°So as soon as we¡¯re gone, you and your friends are going to track the bastard down without me. Is that it?¡± Jesse let out a deep breath. ¡°I think that you¡¯ve been through enough tonight, Shawn. Let me handle this.¡± Shawn looked Jesse in the eye and said, ¡°Hell, I¡¯m just getting warmed up, and you¡¯re not chasing him down without me. I¡¯ll tell you that right now!¡± Jesse didn¡¯t like it, but he knew Shawn wouldn¡¯t take no for an answer. After a long silence, he finally said, ¡°Okay, have it your way, you stubborn old bastard?¡± Upon hearing these words, Shawn¡¯s hard, unbending stare slowly turned into a smile and said, ¡°Look who¡¯s talking, old man.¡± ***** Ivan cursed the rain. The treacherous footing made it impossible to keep his feet planted securely on the ground. He had fallen so many times that he finally just stopped, found a large rock to sit on, and waited for the rain to let up. He could taste blood in his mouth from a blow he sustained when his head hit the side of a tree. He had tried to grab it after he slipped and fell. The strong wind was whipping the trees, and the rain was coming at him sideways, striking him squarely in the face. He turned his back and raised his collar against the torrent of wind and rain, but it did little to protect him from the elements. Like a small stream overflowing its banks, the deluge washed everything down the hillside, and at one point, a surge almost washed him off his perch. Water, leaves, twigs, and mud flowed over his legs and feet. He was completely soaked, and despite the relatively warm temperature, he felt chilled to the bone. Another loud crack of thunder made him jump as another lightning bolt struck nearby. He had no way of knowing how far he had traveled, or how far the shore was that he had to reach. The only good thing was that the rain also hindered his pursuers. ***** Shawn took four ibuprofen and washed them down with two cans of beer. He then helped Kim load Kasem and Choi into Kasem¡¯s Toyota sedan. When the two men were seated and buckled up, Kim approached Shawn, reached up, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him tenderly. When she pulled away, she said, ¡°You be careful. I want you back in one piece. You got that, mister?¡± Shawn smiled and said, ¡°I got my old wingman back. He won¡¯t let anything happen to me. I promise.¡± Kim returned his smile and squeezed his hand. Jesse said nothing as he watched the car drive away. When it was out of sight, he turned to Shawn. ¡°Are you positive you¡¯re up for this?¡± ¡°Absolutely, if we find him¡­I won¡¯t be on the receiving end this time.¡± ¡°All right, but I have to warn you, this man is a very dangerous killer. His name is Ivan R¡ª¡° Shawn cut him off, ¡°No need to warn me; I know all about Ivan Rakov. One of Choi¡¯s friends at the police department filled us in on him after he attacked Choi at his office a few days ago.¡± ¡°Then you know you shouldn¡¯t take him lightly.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just go and find the asshole first. Do you know where he headed?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a pretty good idea. He was heading down the hill on the north side of your property before we lost contact with him.¡± Jesse said. Jesse pulled out his iPad, got the screen up, and handed it to Shawn. It showed Ivan¡¯s last position before the storm rolled in. He stared at the unmoving image on the screen, but he had no idea what he was looking at until suddenly, it dawned on him. ¡°Is this what I think it is?¡± Shawn asked. ¡°You¡¯re looking at a thermal image of Ivan Rakov, and it looks like he¡¯s about a third of the way down the hill from your home.¡± Shawn didn¡¯t know what to say; he just stared at the image on the screen. Rakov appeared as an orangish-red glow, while the rest of the image was cast in shades of yellow and green. Finally, he looked at Jesse and said, ¡°So is this live?¡± Jesse slowly shook his head. ¡°No, it¡¯s his last position before the storm moved in. The satellite can¡¯t see through the storm clouds.¡± ¡°Boy, you must have some serious clout to pull off something like this. I can¡¯t even imagine what this will cost.¡± ¡°I do have some connections, but this came from someone much higher up the food chain. As far as cost¡­.let¡¯s just say that it¡¯s the price we pay for keeping us free.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m impressed, and I hope I don¡¯t get a bill.¡± Jesse chuckled and said, ¡°I don¡¯t think you have to worry about that. What¡¯s the terrain like on the North side of your property?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not easy to walk even in the best of conditions. I assume it would be nearly impossible in this rain.¡± ¡°Good; I hope that will give us time to get into position.¡± ¡°What did you have in mind?¡± Jesse reached out and motioned for Shawn to hand the iPad back to him. He switched to a military version of Google Earth. The image was much more detailed, and he could zoom in and read the pages of a book if one was lying open on a table. But at the moment, he was only concerned with one thing. Jesse pointed to the house below his property, just above the beach. ¡°Is there a quick way to get to that house and stretch of beach?¡± Jesse asked. ¡°Unfortunately, there is no quick way. We¡¯ll have to loop back to a road that crosses the hill further down. But I think I can get us there before he reaches that house, that is if the rain doesn¡¯t let up.¡± ¡°Then let¡¯s head out; our vehicle is parked out front.¡± ¡°If I¡¯m going to dive, I want to drive something that I know. We¡¯ll take my Range Rover.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine by me,¡± Jesse answered. Then Jesse turned to Ken and Chuah, who had just returned and said, ¡°Chuah, I want you to drive your SUV to the front gate and guard the home against any further unwanted visitors. Ken, I want you to come with us.¡± Both men acknowledged his commands, and soon, they were all on their way. The rain was coming down harder as all three men got into the Range Rover. After everyone was buckled up, Shawn backed out of the garage stall and into the dark, windswept rain. Chapter 70 Chapter 70 Shawn maneuvered around the disabled SUV and out through the open gate. Chuah, who was standing next to Charlie under the guard shack eave, waved them by. Shawn drove slightly slower than he would have liked because of the rain-slicked roads, but they still made good time. He had a lot of questions about Jesse¡¯s recovery and what he had been doing all these years, and Jesse filled him in as he drove. The main road branched off to a secluded road as they got close to their destination. There was no security gate to block their way. Only a sign warning that you were entering a private drive. The road was cut through the dense foliage just up from the beach. As they approached the home, the rain stopped as if someone had suddenly turned off a spigot, and within minutes, the sky rapidly cleared. The short drive led to a home built into the side of the hill, and Jesse could see that lights were on inside. ¡°It looks like someone¡¯s home. I know you¡¯re not exactly neighbors, but do you know who lives here?¡± Jesse asked. ¡°I only met him once,¡± Shawn said. ¡°He¡¯s a wealthy Chinese businessman from Singapore. Kim and his wife are somewhat close friends. I¡¯ve met her a few times at the club, although I don¡¯t think they spend much time here. They could have live-in help, or the lights are on timers.¡± Shawn pulled the Range Rover into the main driveway staging area in front of the three-car garage, and the outside security lights came on. Jesse turned to look at Shawn and said, ¡°Why don¡¯t you see if anyone¡¯s home while we get our gear together?¡± When Shawn returned, Jesse and Ken were standing by the Range Rover, looking at his iPad. ¡°Well, is anyone home?¡± Jesse asked. Shawn turned up his hands and said, ¡°No one came to the door.¡± ¡°Good, that¡¯s one less thing we will have to worry about.¡± ¡°I take it that the satellite feed is working again. Did you pick up Rakov yet?¡± Shawn asked. ¡°No, the satellite has passed out position. We are on our own for now. But I would wager that Rakov will be heading straight for the lights of that house.¡± Jesse said as he pointed to the house in front of them. Jesse noticed that Shawn¡¯s right eye looked worse and was starting to close. ¡°We should have put some ice on that eye. How do you feel?¡± ¡°Like someone beat the shit out of me, but the painkillers are finally starting to kick in.¡± Jesse nodded and said, ¡°Good, let¡¯s get into position.¡± Jesse threw a vest at Shawn and told him to put it on. Then he directed Ken to take up a flanking position thirty yards away. When Shawn had his vest secured, Jesse handed him a weapon and told him to follow his lead. All three men moved into the dense foliage where they could observe the home and driveway. As they waited, the timed outside security lights went off, and the jungle around the house was again cast into darkness. ***** Ivan¡¯s hopes were raised when he could see the lights ahead, but just as quickly, they were dampened when he came upon a ten-foot security fence. Unknown to Ivan, the former owner of Shawn¡¯s property had a kidnapping attempt on his only daughter. After that, he took great precautions to protect himself and his family at all his properties. After some searching, Ivan finally found a downed tree leaning up against the fence, and he started climbing. The bark on the tree was slippery even before the rain started. But now it was like climbing up a slippery eel. Ivan struggled to stay on the tree and fell many times before finally taking off his tactical vest and placing Shawn¡¯s automatic into a side pocket of his pants. He finally reached the top of the fence, and he was no longer cold. He was hot and sweating and very uncomfortable in his wet clothes. He rested a few minutes and cursed the man who built the fence. After finally cooling down and regaining some of his strength, he continued. The fence had a cantilevered razor wire top section that protruded outward to prevent unwanted visitors from climbing over the top, and Ivan eased his way to its edge. He finally reached a point where a large limb branched off the main tree trunk and was past the razor wire. Grabbing hold of the limb, he swung his legs over the side of the fence. As he did, his rifle strap got snagged on the razor wire. He tried to pull it loose, but his hand slipped from the branch in the process, and he started to fall. He hit the ground hard. When he finally got to his feet, he looked up and saw his rifle dangling in the air. He searched the ground for something long enough to unhook it from the fence. Not finding anything, he decided to move on with only Shawn¡¯s automatic and a pocket knife as weapons. Ivan finally reached the back of the house. He could see where all the rain and debris had been diverted away from the back of the home by a concrete barrier designed to protect the structure''s foundation. The windows were too high for him to see anything inside, so he moved around the side of the home and tried to look into the lighted rooms, but drapes or blinds covered them, emitting light from around the edges. Ivan kept moving until he arrived at the front of the home. ***** Shawn was the first to spot Rakov as he emerged from the shadows. ¡°There¡¯s the asshole, and it looks like he¡¯s heading straight for the Range Rover,¡± Shawn whispered to Jesse. ¡°He¡¯s probably going to check to see if the keys are in the ignition,¡± Jesse replied. Looking him over, Shawn said, ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like he has a weapon with him. Didn¡¯t Ken say he had an assault rifle?¡± ¡°Yeah, he did.¡± He said he saw him grab an assault rifle just before he went down the staircase.¡± ¡°Well, he doesn¡¯t have one now.¡± The motion detectors turned on the security lights again, and Shawn and Jesse got a good look at Rakov as he moved toward the vehicle. When the lights hit him, Rakov immediately turned toward the front door, looking for any sign of trouble. He saw no one at the door or in the windows and finally realized the lights were turned on by a motion sensor. ***** Before Jesse could stop him, Shawn was up and heading straight for Ivan. As his feet hit the paved driveway, Shawn shouted at Rakov. ¡°Hey, asshole¡­now it¡¯s my turn.¡± Ivan turned and was stunned to see Harris step onto the driveway, followed closely by a man who was pointing a laser-guided weapon straight at him. The man yelled out, ¡°Don¡¯t move, or you¡¯re a dead man, Rakov.¡± He thought about pulling the 9mm, but under the circumstances, he did as he was told. ¡°Take that weapon slowly out and throw it over here,¡± Jesse yelled with authority. Ivan complied and watched as Harris removed his shoes. He had no idea what he was doing but suspected the man wanted a pound of flesh. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what, you piece of shit. If you can kick my ass, I¡¯ll let you go. I suggest you accept my offer because you won¡¯t get better odds elsewhere today.¡± At that moment, another man came out of the darkness with his weapon aimed at him. It was the black man he had seen coming down the staircase after he shot Smith. Something about him was familiar. Then it finally dawned on him. It was the black asshole from Prague, the one in the helicopter that had punched him in the face. Ivan turned and looked at the other man. It was his partner with camo paint on his face. What the hell. Who were they? Certainly not Prague police. But now he had to deal with this fucker. ¡°And if I kick your ass, these fuckers are just going to let me walk away?¡± Ivan said skeptically as he pointed at the two men. Shawn answered without looking at Jesse, ¡°Yes, they are.¡± Ivan grinned, took off his wet shirt to give him more freedom of movement, then tossed it to the pavement. His body and arms were covered in Russian mafia tattoos. Some were professional, and some were prison art. Most of it was demonic. Smith hadn¡¯t told him much about the man standing before him, but he knew one thing. The man was more than twenty years older, and there was no way he was going to kick his ass. No way in hell. But on the other hand, he was a little leery about the man. He knew that the man was in excellent shape, and he sure as hell didn¡¯t lack confidence. He only hoped that, after he made short work of the old bastard, the other man would honor his agreement. At this point, he had nothing to lose. The two men stood only eight feet apart, studying each other. Ivan was used to overpowering his opponents quickly; this man would be no exception. Harris didn¡¯t move toward him. He just stood his ground with his knees slightly bent and was moving from side to side on the balls of his feet. His hands were just above his waist, waiting for him to make the first move. Then Ivan came in hard. He charged Shawn like a bull, intending to use his brute force to overpower the man and drive him to the ground. To his surprise, the man didn¡¯t even flinch. He didn¡¯t bring his hands up to protect himself or back away. He simply held his ground. Ivan changed his tactics when he saw the opening, an easy shot to the man¡¯s head. He would send him to the ground with one punch and be all over him. The fight would be over quickly. Unfortunately, his hopes for an early victory promptly vanished as his fist only pushed through the humid night air, leaving him off balance and out of control. Shawn watched him move and could tell that he wasn''t a fighter. He was a brawler, and he anticipated his first move. Just in time, he pushed back and easily slipped Ivan''s would-be knockout punch. Shawn had earned his nickname for being very quick, and although the years had taken some of his speed away, he was still very fast. As Ivan''s intended blow missed, it exposed the right side of his head. Shawn didn''t miss the opportunity. He cocked his left hand back and then sent a short, powerful punch that caught Ivan in the side of his head. The sound of flesh crunching against hard bone caused Ken to say to Jesse, "Oooh, I''ll bet that hurt." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. The blow didn¡¯t put Ivan down, but it staggered him. Ivan could take a punch better than most men, but after the single blow, Ivan saw stars, and it rocked him. He had been hit hard many times in his life, but not many as hard as this man had just hit him. He even hit harder than the black asshole. Was it a lucky punch, or was he too overconfident in an easy victory? He wondered why Harris didn¡¯t follow up with a barrage of other blows, so he assumed it was a little bit of both. Regardless, he had a little more respect for his opponent, and he had to take this guy a little more seriously. He shook his head to clear out the cobwebs, and a trickle of blood ran into his right eye from a cut at the corner of his eyebrow. Ivan turned to look at Shawn and taunted him. ¡°My fuckin grandmother can hit harder than that old man.¡± Shawn chuckled and said, ¡°Well then, she must be one fucking big bitch. And if she looks anything like you, she must be one ugly fucking big bitch.¡± Ivan didn¡¯t charge this time; he came in slowly and cautiously, looking for an opening in his opponent¡¯s defense. However, he was amazed when Harris dropped his hands as if to say hit me if you can when he got to within an arm¡¯s length away. Instead of a haymaker, he tried a quick right jab to the head. To his utter surprise, the bastard slipped the punch easily and countered with a right hook that landed squarely on his chin and nose. The blow wasn¡¯t as hard as the first one, but it snapped his head back, broke his nose, and busted his upper lip. After the second blow connected, Ken lowered his weapon to his side and relaxed a bit while Jesse kept his weapon at his chest. Ken said, ¡°Ouch,¡± after Shawn broke Ivan¡¯s nose and blood gushed out. Jesse just stood and watched in awe at his old friend in action. The man still had it. Ivan was still on his feet, and blood was running into his open mouth from his ruined nose and lip. Ivan spit out a glob of blood and moved his tongue over his teeth. He was happy to feel that his new bridgework was still anchored soundly. Enraged now, Ivan charged Shawn again, intending to drive his head into his chest and take him to the ground where he could pummel the man, but Harris was like a phantom. When he thought he had him, he only got a handful of air. For his trouble, he was hit on the left side of his face just in front of his ear by what must have been a sledgehammer. The blow caused him to see stars again, and he stumbled and fell to the ground. It took a moment for the earth to stop spinning and for him to regain his senses. When he finally did, again, he was surprised that Harris hadn¡¯t continued his attack when his opponent was on the ground and dazed. This was an opportunity that he would never have passed up. Show no mercy on your enemy. Give no quarter. Kill or be killed. Ivan turned to get up, and he looked at Harris. He was saying something to him, although he couldn¡¯t make out the words because of the ringing in his ear. He¡¯d only been hit with three punches, which felt like a dozen. And he hadn¡¯t even hit the man yet. Now, his confidence in an easy victory was quickly slipping away. Ivan was no quitter, and he knew that he could take a lot more punishment, but he also knew that he couldn¡¯t take too many more blows like the ones he had just received. He now knew that he needed to be more cautious and that he had to find an edge to use against this man. He decided to come in slow, protect his head, and wait for an opening. He had taken many men down with a single punch, and he was confident that if he connected, this man wouldn¡¯t be any different from all the others that had fallen before him. He got to his feet, moved in, and waited for Harris to make his move. All he needed was one good shot to the head or body, and if the opportunity came up, he would tackle Harris to the ground where he wouldn¡¯t be able to dodge his blows. He came in low like a wrestler, and Harris made no attempt to move out of the way. Instead of throwing a punch, he went for the legs. But just as he was about to grab them, they vanished, and a split second later, his head and body were rocked by a series of blows. Without really knowing what happened, he found himself on the ground again. Blood was running into his mouth and both eyes as he tried to sit up. His right eye was now closing fast, and it would be useless to him in a matter of minutes if not seconds. To make matters worse, his left eye wasn¡¯t far behind. Now, he was left with no alternative. He cleared the cobwebs out of his head again and looked for any weapon he could use against the man. The ringing in his ear was starting to subside, and he could hear Harris taunting him. ¡°You have no trouble hitting defenseless women or men that are hog-tied, but you seem to have some trouble when someone hits you back,¡± Shawn mocked him. Ivan¡¯s jaw tightened, and he glared at Shawn. ¡°What, no smart comeback. You know¡­I heard that you were supposed to be some sort of tough guy. But instead of a tough guy, I got a fucking pussy. Is that what you are, asshole¡­a fucking little pussy?¡± Ivan¡¯s glare disappeared, and he came at Shawn from a low crouch. At first, it looked like Harris was turning to run, but then he saw him pivot on his left heel. A split second later, Ivan felt a stabbing pain on the right side of his chest where the heel of Shawn¡¯s right foot had just struck his ribs. The vicious kick knocked the wind out of him, and he found himself on the ground again, unable to catch his breath. When he did, the pain was so intense that he was sure that some of his ribs were broken. He spat out another glob of blood and tried not to breathe, but it was impossible not to. ***** Ivan had never been beaten this badly without inflicting some hurt on his opponent. Even when he was sent to the infamous boy¡¯s prison camp at Bashkortostan at the age of twelve, he had fought boys much older and bigger than himself and had often come out on top, and if he lost, he had always inflicted some pain on them and gained their respect. But the man in front of him was an enigma. He was much too fast for an old man, and he hit with the force of a mule kick. ***** Ivan was lying on his stomach, and he turned over on his side to push himself up when his right hand pushed into some mud and debris that had washed up on the driveway. Ivan had found his edge. Leaning on his right arm, he wiped blood from both his eyes with his left hand while eyeing Harris the whole time. He turned his body to conceal his action for Harris. Clenching his fist around the mud, he staggered to his feet. He could see that Harris''s right eye was partially closed, and he moved away from it in a circular motion and looked for an opportunity. Finally, he saw it. Harris had taken his eyes off of him for a split second to look at his friends. Ivan cocked his arm back and threw the mud at Harris''s face. As fast as Shawn was, he wasn''t able to avoid it. He tried to close his eyes and turn away, but it was too late. Ivan''s throw was perfect, and the mud caught both of his eyes. He instantly turned and tried to wipe the foreign matter out, and Ivan seized the opportunity. He loaded up his right fist and drove it into Shawn¡¯s kidney as he turned away. Ivan had taken a lot of punishment and felt immense joy as he heard the man groan in pain. Ivan wasted no time in this small triumph. He immediately sent another right hand to the same spot and a left hook to the back of Shawn¡¯s head. Now he had him. All he needed to do was to get him on the ground and pin him down. Ken was pissed when he saw the tactic that Ivan had used on Shawn. He started to move forward to intervene when a hand reached out to stop him. He looked over at Jesse who shook his head. ¡°As much as I¡¯d like you to help him¡­I don¡¯t think he¡¯d like that.¡± Jesse said. Shawn had to admit that the fucker could hit hard. His already bruised kidney felt like it was stuck with a hot, burning poker, and the back of his head felt like it was hit with a baseball bat. But his immediate concern was the mud in his eyes. He remembered seeing a water fountain in the garden between the main entrance and the garage. He had to get there and wash out his eyes before Rakov could do any further damage. Ivan continued to pound Shawn from behind, and he finally got him to the ground. With no way to protect himself, Ivan¡¯s blows were starting to take their toll. More blows were raining down on him when he felt Ivan¡¯s left hand grab him around his neck, pushing his face into the ground. Finally, Shawn had had enough. He reached back, grabbed one of Ivan¡¯s fingers, and bent it backward until it snapped out of its socket. Ivan howled out in pain and released his grip. Shawn didn¡¯t hesitate; he spun over onto his back and kneed Ivan in the groin in one quick movement. Ivan tried to stay on the offensive, but the pain was too great. He curled up and grabbed his balls. They felt like they had been crushed in a vice. Shawn immediately pushed Ivan off of him and got to his feet. He could barely make out the bastard on the ground. He was only a blur. The more he rubbed his eyes, the worse his vision became. He needed to clear his eyes before it was too late. With his opponent on the ground groaning in pain, Shawn headed toward the water fountain. He could hear the water flowing from its tiers and followed the sound to its source. He finally found it and plunged his face into the somewhat warm water, but it was still refreshing, as he washed out the dirt from his eyes. With his eyesight starting to return, he glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Rakov coming at him fast. Shawn¡¯s left eye, though not perfect, but was good enough to see. He ran his big hands through his hair and moved toward his adversary with a whole different intent now. He decided that playtime was over. While Ivan was on the ground comforting his groin he remembered the folding knife in his pocket. He didn¡¯t want to use it, thinking he could beat the man easily and he was going to hold Harris to his promise. But now he doubted that the black prick and his partner would let him walk away even if he did beat Harris. Ivan was resolved to get some satisfaction. He was going to gut the bastard. He opened the blade and cuffed it in his right hand to conceal it. Not wanting to be fooled again, Shawn looked at his hands to see it there was any foreign matter in them. He spotted no mud this time, but he did see the partially hidden blade. He saw it just briefly, but he knew what it was. As he got closer, the blade dropped down from his palm, and the four-inch blade was fully revealed. Ken started to step forward when he saw the knife, but Jesse stopped him again. ¡°Let them fight, Ken.¡± ¡°Dude, the fucker pulled a blade!¡± ¡°Yeah, I know he did.¡± ¡°I thought that you guys were like brothers?¡± Jesse turned to look at Ken again and said, ¡°We were.¡± ¡°Well, if I¡¯m ever in a similar situation like this¡­please feel free to jump in and give a brother a hand.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll make a mental note of that if it makes you feel any better, Ken,¡± Jesse said with a bit of humor in his voice. ¡°Gee, thanks, boss.¡± When only a few feet separated the two combatants, Ivan crouched low with the blade out like the pincer of a crab. The pain from his cracked ribs hurt all the more when he bent forward, but his rage pushed it aside. The two men circled each other both looking for any opening. Ivan made a few false thrusts to throw Shawn off, although his vain tactic didn¡¯t work on Shawn. Finally seeing the distance close, Ivan attacked. He drove off of his powerful legs and straightened out his right arm in a classic fencing thrust aimed at his opponent¡¯s chest. Despite his age, Shawn¡¯s speed was remarkable. He spun three hundred and sixty degrees and thrust his right leg backwards to avoid Ivan¡¯s blade and his heel caught Ivan flush on the chin just as his leg was straightening out. The force of Ivan moving forward and Shawn¡¯s leg wiping from the side was like two steam locomotives colliding. Something had to give. The two witnesses watched in awe as they heard the crunch of bone on bone. Ivan didn¡¯t even know what hit him. The force of the blow snapped his head sideways and completely took him off of his feet. When he landed, he was out cold. Ken lowered his weapon and looked at Jesse. ¡°You ever get into a fight with this friend of yours before?¡± Jesse slowly shook his head and answered, ¡°No¡­and after what I just witnessed¡­I hope I never do.¡± ¡°That goes the same for me. That¡¯s one, tough old man.¡± Jesse was surprised by his answer and looked Ken straight in the eyes. ¡°Ken, I thought you weren¡¯t afraid of any man?¡± Ken grinned and said, ¡°I just made an exception.¡± Jesse nodded and chuckled in agreement then they started to move forward. Ken and Jesse walked up to Shawn and looked down at Rakov. His face was a bloody mess and his jaw just didn¡¯t look quite right. Ken said, ¡°The poor fucker looks about the same as we saw him in Prague, except that he¡¯s not covered in bat shit.¡± Shawn glanced at Ken with a questioning look and said, ¡°What?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a long story. I¡¯ll tell you about it later.¡± Jesse said. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Jesse was going to add ¡°old man,¡± but after what he just witnessed, he decided against it. ¡°I think I could use a drink right about now.¡± ¡°That makes two of us. Do you know any single women we could call up.¡± Ken replied happily. Chapter 71 Chapter 71 Greg Hunt and Aaron Eastling finally arrived on the island of Langkawi, where a helicopter was waiting to fly them to ¡°The Maltese Falcon.¡± After their gear was stowed on board, the two ex-special forces members boarded a Zodiac and were soon heading for the shore. The coxswain followed the GPS coordinates given to him and quietly pulled up on the beach just thirty yards from where Shawn had confronted Rakov. Hunt and Eastling weren¡¯t too happy to learn that they had missed out on all the action, especially when they were assigned to clean up detail. Rakov was hog-tied, and a black hood was placed over his head. He was carried to the Zodiac, where he was placed inside and secured to a seat by the coxswain and his shipmate. Hunt and Eastling eased the Zodiac back into the silvery liquid, and the coxswain started up the quiet outboards. Within a few minutes, the small craft was just a speck on the endless sea of darkness. While they were waiting for the Zodiac to land, Jesse had received a positive ID on Smith. He skimmed over the report and wondered how Smith and Rakov were connected. One thing that Jesse immediately gleaned from the report was that Shawn and his friends were fortunate to have escaped from a man like Smith. The former MI6 operative had a reputation as a stone-cold killer. ***** The drive back to Shawn¡¯s home was at a much slower pace. Kim called and told Shawn she was about to leave the hospital and would be home soon. Shawn laughed when she said to him that the admitting nurse had asked if they were all in an automobile accident. Kim insisted she was all right, yet the nurse wouldn¡¯t take no for an answer, and Kim¡¯s wounds were cleaned and dressed. Kasem¡¯s ankle had been severely sprained from his fall, and after he was treated, he couldn¡¯t wait to get out of the hospital and get back home. Choi, on the other hand, would have to stay. The bullet had plowed a three-inch-long groove along his skull from the corner of his eyebrow to just above and behind his ear. The doctor who treated him noticed his other relatively fresh bullet wound and asked how he acquired it. Choi informed him that he was a PI who often encountered some very unsavory people in his line of work. The doctor told Choi that he should think seriously about changing professions, to which Choi replied that he was seriously considering it. The doctor told Choi that he needed to stay in the hospital for at least twenty-four hours. He wanted to hold him for further observation because he was concerned with brain trauma and swelling. Kim agreed over Choi¡¯s objection, and in the end, Choi gave in after being outnumbered. After arriving back home, Kim needed a shower. She felt a great need to remove any trace of the Russian from her body. She set the water temperature as hot as she could possibly tolerate and let the hot water soothe her aches and pains. The emotional scars would be a bit harder to heal. But after surviving being sold into slavery and being homeless, these scars would heal quickly. Ten minutes later and feeling very refreshed, she stepped out of the shower, dried off, and changed into some clean clothes. She finally joined Kasem a few minutes later. He was hobbling around trying to clean up his house. They weren¡¯t worried about destroying any crime scene evidence simply because the police would never step foot inside their home. The Range Rover pulled onto the private road and stopped at the security shack. Shawn got out and had a brief conversation with Charlie, who genuinely seemed to be down on himself. Shawn wasn¡¯t hard on the young man because he knew that his appetite more than likely had saved his life. Shawn told him he could go home because the threat was over, and he had plenty of protection for the rest of the night. The pep talk seemed to take Charlie out of his funk, and Shawn got back into his SUV and drove up to the house. He pulled into the driveway and parked at the main entrance. Soon, all the men were inside the home, and despite his dirty clothing, Kim eagerly greeted her man at the entrance with a hug and a lot of kisses. Shawn was a little embarrassed by Kim¡¯s affection in front of all the hardened men, but he didn¡¯t tell her to stop. She finally pulled away and asked, ¡°Did you find him?¡± Before Shawn could answer, Ken gave her a synopsis of the entire event. Kim was very pleased and wasn¡¯t surprised by the news. She knew what Shawn was capable of. After thanking Jesse again, Kim was introduced to the two new members of his team. Hugging each man, she told them they might want to wash up because Kasem was preparing something to eat. She then turned and went to the kitchen to help prepare the food. After she left, Jesse gave his men orders to bag the dead and place them in the back of Chuah¡¯s SUV, where they would be transported to ¡°The Maltese Falcon¡± for identification. When his men left to attend to their unpleasant duties, Shawn asked Jesse, ¡°Would you like a drink?¡± ¡°Yeah, I think a drink would be great right about now.¡± ¡°Well, follow me; I think we¡¯ve got enough booze around here to float a battleship. Jesse chuckled and said, ¡°Somehow, that doesn¡¯t surprise me.¡± After Jesse had consumed some great food and slowly finished his first drink, he asked Shawn if they could talk privately. Shawn nodded, and he led Jesse out to the balcony. While Kasem was wiping off the rain and debris on the outdoor furniture and placing dry cushions on the chairs, Jesse and Shawn walked around the deck and looked out at the sea. After the rainstorm had passed, the night air was refreshing, and the sky was once again filled with billions of stars that twinkled in the night like distant fireflies in some magical fairyland far, far away. Shawn gave Kasem his request, and a few minutes later, he returned with a cart filled with some of the best-refined spirits that money can buy and a humidor containing an assortment of some of the finest cigars from around the world. The men sat down, and Shawn reached into the humidor, pulled out two Cohiba Esplendidos, and handed one to Jesse after cutting the tip. Shawn lit his cigar, pointed to the beverage cart, and asked, ¡°What¡¯s your poison?¡± ¡°That looks good.¡± Jesse said, pointing to a bottle of Jonnie Walker Blue Label, King George V. Ah....excellent choice." Kasem poured three fingers of the amber liquid into two highball glasses and served the drinks neat without asking if they wanted ice. ¡°You have a very nice place here, Shawn. You¡¯ve done very well for yourself. I¡¯m impressed and very happy for you.¡± Shawn gave Jesse a small smile and said, ¡°Thanks, Jesse.¡± ¡°I was also in your club earlier tonight¡­wow, is that an amazing place!¡± ¡°Ah yes, The Club¡­I assume that¡¯s how you tracked me down?¡± ¡°Well¡­not exactly. One of my men showed you¡¯re old army photo around town and someone recognized you.¡± ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t have any of this without Kim. She was the driving force behind everything we¡¯ve accomplished. She is the one who forced me to buy our first run-down club and turn it around. Everyone thinks I own the club and this home, but she¡¯s the legal owner of both, although she¡¯ll never admit it.¡± Jesse turned to look Shawn in the eye and said, ¡°Wow, humility¡­that¡¯s a trait I¡¯ve never seen in you before.¡± While Shawn was laughing, Jesse turned very serious. ¡°I want to leave Hunt and Eastling here for a few days just to be on the safe side.¡± Shawn thought about it for a few seconds and gave Jesse his answer. ¡°Kim and Kasem are my only family; I will do anything to protect them, so I have no problem with that.¡± ¡°Good, then it¡¯s done. I just hope they won¡¯t eat you out of house and home.¡± Just then, Jesse''s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, looked at the screen, and answered it. The brief conversation ended a few minutes later, and he put the phone on the table. "Well, we won''t be talking with Rakov any time soon. The ship''s doctor had to wire his jaw shut. Apparently, you broke his jaw in three places. He also sustained three cracked ribs and a broken nose." "What can I say; the man pissed me off when he went after Kim." "I could tell you were playing with him. It looks like you have gained a lot over the years. I think maybe you''ve gotten better." Shawn let out a short chuckle and said, "Well, I try to stay in shape¡­you never know when some fucking Russian assassins are going to break into your home." Jesse let out a small snort himself and held up his glass, "Amen to that brother." After taking a short drink, Jesse set his glass down, and neither man said anything for a short while. Finally, Shawn said, "So are you ready to tell me how you happened to show up at my door at the same time these pricks were pounding on my head because I''m very curious to find out? I must assume that General Bennett or David Choi contacted you." Jesse knew there was no way that Shawn could have known about the attack on Bennett, but he might have known about David Choi. He didn''t want to be the one to tell him if he didn''t. ¡°About two days ago, I was asked to meet with the director of the CIA at his office in Langley. Ivan Rakov was on the government¡¯s watch list after he supposedly assassinated a U.S. Diplomat in Germany two years ago. Someone in the Thailand National Police informed the CIA¡¯s assets in Thailand that Rakov and his friends had just tried to interrogate Tim Choi in his office here in Phuket. Because these men didn¡¯t succeed in their mission, these assets wanted to question Choi. They didn¡¯t care about Choi. They only wanted to find Rakov. But as you know, he went underground. They then dug into Choi¡¯s records and found that he had sent a series of e-mails to his grandson in the United States. I was informed that his name was David Choi, and that he¡¯s an L.A. police officer and a licensed P.I.¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Jesse was watching Shawn, who just nodded, so he continued. ¡°They discovered that someone hired David to find two people in the U.S. The first name was Colonel Paul Bennett, now a retired three-star; the second was yours truly. It just so happens that the director knew both of us personally, which is why I knew someone was looking for me, but at the time, I didn¡¯t know it was you.¡± ¡°To make a long story short, Bennett started a company that does a lot of business with the government, a company that gives its customers something that they seek more than anything else¡­fast results and deniability. We do a lot of business that the CIA used to do, but now has its hands tied by bureaucratic oversight and red tape. As a soldier, he was frustrated with the bureaucratic restrictions on how to engage the enemy. He felt that the government was one of the reasons the U.S. was losing the war on terror. That''s why I was asked to meet with the CIA director a few days ago. The e-mail between Choi and his grandson would have gone unnoticed except for several things. The first is "Because of the recent events in the United States," and the second is that my client has a document that could be very damaging to someone extremely high in the US government. Because this e-mail was sent shortly after the bombing in Connecticut, every correspondence that originated from a foreign country drew the attention of the NSA, especially if it was encrypted, as Choi''s was. I learned that the NSA had broken Choi''s encryption, but there was never any follow-up despite the fact that some of the phrases used in the e-mail should have drawn several red flags. The director believes a very powerful person or group planted moles inside the NSA for the purpose of data mining. He believes that one of these moles passed on Choi''s e-mail to these people, who then gave Rakov and his friends a directive to visit Mr. Choi. I assume the document mentioned in Choi''s e-mail is the encrypted letter I told you about. The one I saw in Dave Sanders''s hands just before our last mission with the Tigers?" Jesse looked at Shawn and waited for him to reply. Shawn nodded and said, "Yes, it is." "Would you like to tell me how you got your hands on it?" "It''s a long story¡­do you want to hear it?" "Absolutely." "Well, before I begin¡­I think we need another drink." Shawn got up, grabbed the bottle of Scotch off the cart, and set it on the coffee table in front of them. He poured two more drinks and then set the empty bottle down. Jesse didn''t want anything more to drink. He had a lot of work to do yet that night. But under the circumstances, he decided to indulge his friend. Shawn took a small sip and began telling Jesse everything he could remember about his last day in Xuan Loc while Jesse sat back and listened intently. He recounted the conversation that he had with Madame Chi about Sydney''s reported reputation and how he found the encrypted letter after he crashed the Jeep and was given another one at the motor pool. He told him about Sanders''s death and his encounter with Sydney at Sanders''s bunkhouse and talking with the gay CIA analyst just before he received his orders from Colonel Bennett. Ten minutes later, Shawn finished his story. Jesse had a few questions to clarify some points and now had a better understanding of what took place that day. Jesse was about to ask another question when his cell phone buzzed on the table. He answered it, got up, and walked to the hand railing. The call was short, and he walked back over and sat down. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that my time is just about up here. The ship I¡¯m sailing on got its orders, and so do I.¡± ¡°Man, I hate to see you leave so soon, but I understand that you have a job to do.¡± ¡°I do have one last request before I have to leave. Do you have the envelope and encrypted letter here?¡± ¡°Yes, I do. Would you like to see it?¡± ¡°Definitely ¡­I want to see what¡¯s caused all this trouble.¡± Shawn got up and walked into the house. Before long, he was back with the envelope, and he handed it to Jesse, who immediately recognized the torn piece of paper on the corner of the manila envelope as the one he had seen in Sanders''s hands. Jesse pulled out the single sheet of paper and examined the yellowed and faded document. Jesse was no expert on encryption, but he knew a few people who were. He placed the page back into the envelope, set it on the coffee table in front of him, and thought of Mary Jensen. Someone had killed her because she might have known something, or she might have held the key. Now, that was lost. As he looked at the envelope on the table, he decided that it was time that he told Shawn about the circumstances surrounding Mary Jensen¡¯s death. Just as he was about to speak, Kim stepped onto the balcony and approached the two men. She looked happy despite everything that had transpired that night. ¡°How are you two big strong men doing out here? Can I get you anything?¡± ¡°Shawn looked at Jesse, who shook his head, ¡°No, we¡¯re good. It sounds like you guys are having some fun in there?¡± ¡°Oh my god, Ken is a riot! He is soooo funny; I¡¯ll bet he keeps you in stitches.¡± Kim said to Jesse. ¡°Those wouldn¡¯t be my exact choice of words, but he does keep things lively,¡± Jesse said as he moaned inwardly at the thought. ¡°Well, okay then, I¡¯ll leave you to boys alone so you can hash over old war stories.¡± Kim bent down, put her arm around Shawn¡¯s neck, and kissed him softly. The two men watched her walk back to the kitchen. After she was out of sight, Jesse said, ¡°Shawn¡­a lot has happened since Tim Choi sent that e-mail to his grandson.¡± Jesse sighed, ¡°I¡¯m afraid that I have some bad news to tell you. When I was in the meeting at Langley, I was informed that David Choi was wounded in a gun battle in his apartment a couple of days ago. He sustained multiple gunshot wounds. The last information I received was that he was in critical condition. I don¡¯t know if it was connected to this, but the timing is very suspect.¡± Jesse had kept his eyes on Shawn, who was shaking his head in disbelief. "Apparently, David had contacted General Bennett, and they had scheduled a meeting for the next day. He never made that meeting. The very next night, two men entered Bennett''s townhome, and they tried to kill him. I don''t have all the details, but Bennett got into a gun battle with them, and he shot and killed both of them. Unfortunately, he sustained two gunshot wounds in the firefight. I did get an update on his condition not long ago, and he''s been taken off the critical list. The prognosis is that he''ll make a full recovery. I pray that David will recover also." As he was talking, Jesse could see Shawn''s head sink lower with every sentence. Finally, Shawn spoke with anger in his voice. "Oh my god¡­all because of THIS?" Shawn said while pointing at the envelope. "It''s not your fault, Shawn. There''s no way you could have known that this would happen." Jesse tried to shift the blame but knew Shawn wouldn''t buy it. "No, it''s my fault; I should have let sleeping dogs lie." "Evil men do evil things. I''m sure you''ve heard the famous quote, "All that is required for evil to flourish is for good men to do nothing." I know you''re a good man, Shawn, and you did what you thought was right." "Thank you for that vote of confidence, Jesse, but that term, good, can be very subjective. What''s sad is I''ve known Tim most of my adult life, and now I have to tell him that his grandson is in the hospital because of me and my foolishness." ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Shawn, I really am, but you¡¯re wrong. What you did exposed a group that more than likely had something to do with the bombing in Connecticut.¡± Shawn picked up his head, ¡°Are you saying that Sydney had something to do with it?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what her involvement may have been, if she was involved at all. She may or may not have been a willing participant. Only time will tell. But I think someone wanted her to be in the Oval Office, someone with a tremendous amount of money and power, the kind of power that can influence world affairs and the global economy. I believe that President Roberts was a threat to these people, and they planned his execution. I don¡¯t have a lot of time to explain, but Rakov was the key.¡± ¡°That piece of shit was the key?¡± exclaimed Shawn. For the next few minutes, Jesse explained the assignment President Roberts had given him, how they ran across Rakov in Prague, and what he was there to do. ¡°So, do you think Rakov is working for these same people?¡± Shawn asked. ¡°Yes, I do. I think these people are trying to protect their assets in the White House. From what you just told me, I would stake my life that Sydney knows what¡¯s on this document because after Sanders was killed, I think that she found the letter that he had placed in his pocket. I believe that Jensen was killed because he saw something that would ruin her. And knowing her like I do, she was not about to let that happen.¡± Before Shawn could comment, Jesse¡¯s phone buzzed again. He looked at the caller¡¯s name and picked it up. The conversation lasted just a minute, and Jesse rang off. ¡°From the look on your face, I assume that you have to leave soon,¡± Shawn said. ¡°I¡¯m afraid so. I wish I had more time to spend with you and Kim, but unfortunately, I don¡¯t. A Zodiac is scheduled to pick us up in thirty minutes. I don¡¯t know where this will lead at this point, but I believe you will be safe from harm from this point forward. With your permission, I¡¯d like to take this document back to Washington so we can try and decode it.¡± "Do you know if Jensen''s parents are still alive?" Shawn asked. Under the circumstances, Jesse decided not to mention Mary Jensen''s death. He didn''t want him to feel any worse than he already did. "What makes you think that Jensen''s parents can decode this?" Jesse asked. "I can''t remember his name, but I remember talking with that gay CIA spook after I found the envelope. I asked him who Jensen wrote to all the time. I recall asking him if he had a spook girlfriend. He told me that as far as he knew, he only wrote to his parents. I know it''s a long shot, but maybe Jensen''s dad was also a spook, and they wrote encrypted letters to each other. Hell¡­his mother could have been a spook for all I know." "I believe the CIA director is looking into that. Also, any friends or girlfriends that Jensen might have had at the time that he could have possibly written to. But if that''s a dead end, and I''m sure that it is, he''s going to give the experts at Langley or Quantico the shot at decoding it." "Before you leave, I need to ask you one more question." "I''ll answer it if I can¡­but I hope it''s a short one." "Do you know who these people are that are behind this? Because something tells me that you''re holding out on me?" "I''m not holding out on you, Shawn...although I do have my suspicions." Shawn could tell that he didn''t want to elaborate. "And?" "It''s complicated." "It always is." "I''m sorry, Shawn, I just don''t have the time right now. But I promise that you''ll know as soon as I do." ¡°Okay, I can live with that. Do you think Rakov knows anything, or is he just a hired thug?¡± Shawn asked. ¡°That¡¯s a good question. I seriously doubt it. I believe that Rakov is just a pawn. These people are cautious. He was probably hired by a middleman whom he probably never met. I¡¯m sure he knows nothing that can be traced back to the source, although I could be wrong.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re saying we¡¯ll never find out who¡¯s behind this?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m not saying that. It will just take a bit of digging, and there are a lot of people in Washington with big shovels.¡± Jesse¡¯s phone buzzed, and he read the text message. ¡°We have to saddle up. The bus is on its way.¡± Jesse and Shawn got up and slowly made their way to the house, where more laughter poured through the open door. The party broke up, and twenty-five minutes later, Ken and Jesse were down on the isolated stretch of beach where Rakov had been loaded onto the Zodiac. While Ken loaded their gear in one Zodiac and Hunt and Eastling loaded the dead bodies into another, Jesse embraced Kim first and then his old friend one last time. ¡°You know¡­I never had an opportunity to thank you for saving my life back in Xuan Loc.¡± ¡°I think you already have¡­and by the way¡­thanks for saving my sorry old ass.¡± ¡°All right, enough of this sentimental bullshit. The bus is loaded, and it¡¯s about to leave the station,¡± Ken yelled out. At that, Jesse left Kim and Shawn standing on the shore, and he jumped into the waiting Zodiac. He turned and gave them one last wave goodbye as Ken pushed the sleek craft back into the water and jumped in without getting his feet wet. Shawn and Kim watched as the two Zodiac¡¯s skipped over the calm waters until the dark, endless sea finally swallowed them up. Part V Chapter 72 Part V Unlocking the Mystery Chapter 72 After fighting the brutal D.C. beltway rush hour traffic, Jesse pulled into his driveway twenty-four hours after leaving Phuket. His head hit the pillow a few minutes after he opened the front door. He didn¡¯t bother to check his answering machine or even look at the stack of mail that had fallen on the floor from the mail slot next to the front door. He was exhausted from lack of sleep and the thoughts that continually ran through his mind after leaving Phuket. The new information provided by Shawn had filled in a lot of blanks. If the rumors that Madam Chi had heard were true, Sydney was involved in a whole lot more than prisoner interrogation, and Peter Jensen may have witnessed some things that got him killed. Now, the letter that Sanders had found so long ago made much more sense and explained why he was so upset. He recalled that Sanders had come under Sydney¡¯s spell like every other man had. He must have been struggling with the fact that he had in his possession a letter that would end her career and possibly send her to prison for a very long time. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t have to make that decision. Now he did. ***** Jesse got out of bed a little after 3:00 AM, and despite the early hour, he was wide awake after having slept for nearly nine hours. He made a pot of coffee and then checked his voicemail, text messages, and e-mail before jumping into the shower with a steaming cup of black coffee. Feeling refreshed, he made himself a breakfast of instant oatmeal with brown sugar and raisins. His meeting with General Jackson and the CIA director wasn¡¯t scheduled for another four hours, so he decided to go to his office, finish some paperwork, and do some research before heading to the meeting. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Sharply at 8:00 AM, Jesse walked into the secure meeting room at Langley and was quickly greeted by General Jackson, Tony Clayson, and the head of the FBI, Joseph Martinez. No staffers were present. After all the men were seated, Jesse handed the three men copies of his report on the events that took place in Phuket. Jesse gave the men a quick synopsis, then he reached into his briefcase and pulled out the envelope containing the encrypted document sealed in a clear Ziploc bag. Jesse handed it to Clayson, then sat back and watched as each man examined the document. Clayson was the first to speak. ¡°I want this kept off the grid. I don¡¯t have to tell you how sensitive this is.¡± Clayson let the sentence hang there for a minute before continuing. ¡°Joseph, because of your agency¡¯s advanced facility and forensic technique¡¯s, I have no doubt that you can handle this, but I need people that you have absolute trust in to keep this quiet, especially because of where this may lead.¡± ¡°I can think of one person who fits the bill, and she also happens to be one of our best experts on encryption. There will be no work record, and her findings will be kept on an encrypted flash drive with a protected password and handed only to me. I will instruct her to work alone.¡± ¡°How long you have known this woman?¡± Clayson asked. Joseph smiled and said, ¡°I have known Janet Rockwell for over twenty years. She¡¯s a true professional. I happen to have a copy of her file with me.¡± Clayson raised an eyebrow and said, ¡°I¡¯m glad to see that you¡¯re on top of things. I guess you were pretty sure it would wind up in your lap.¡± ¡°It was the logical conclusion, Tony,¡± Martinez said with a straight face as he handed Clayson Janet¡¯s file. Clayson poured himself a cup of coffee for the carafe in the center of the table and read through Rockwell¡¯s file for several minutes. Satisfied that Martinez had the right person, he closed the file and handed it back to him. ¡°Very good; please inform me the minute you have something.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll know a minute after I do, Tony.¡± ¡°Good, now that that¡¯s out of the way, I want to move on to the people behind these attacks.¡± Chapter 73 Chapter 73 Jesse hated hospitals, and the thing he hated most about them was the smell. Every hospital he ever entered had the same smell, and it immediately made him want to run for the exit after just stepping through the doors. But today, he didn¡¯t seem to mind the odor because he was there to visit his old XO, boss, and friend, General Bennett. As he approached his private room, he noticed the beefy guard in plain clothes outside his door. Jesse didn¡¯t know the man. He was not one of the members of his company. As he drew nearer, the man gave Jesse his full attention. He had Special Forces written all over him, and Jesse could tell that this man was no stranger to violence. He had a tight smile, but it was all for show. Before he was within 10 feet of the man, Jesse pulled out his creds and held them up for the guard to see. Jesse was allowed to enter after verifying his credentials and checking with the General by two-way radio. He slowly opened the door and found Bennett lying on his bed, engaged in a lively conversation with a beautiful woman standing by his bedside. ¡°Hello General¡­I must say you look awfully good for a man that, by all accounts, should be dead.¡± Jesse said as he walked toward the bed and extended his right hand to greet Bennett but switched hands when he saw Bennett¡¯s right arm was in a sling. The two men shook hands as Bennett grinned and said, ¡°Well, it looks like I cheated that old grim reaper again. Jesse then eyed the attractive woman beside his bed and said, ¡°It looks like you¡¯re being well cared for!¡± Bennett turned his head to look at Miss Hottie. He smiled and was about to introduce her when she extended her hand across the bed and said, ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Judy Wright¡­one of Paul¡¯s neighbors.¡± Jesse leaned over Bennett¡¯s knees, and it took all of his self-control to keep his eyes on the gorgeous woman¡¯s face instead of staring at her ample cleavage that was now in his face as she leaned forward. He took her soft hand and was surprised by her firm grip. ¡°Jesse Taylor¡­the General and I go back a long way. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Judy.¡± Jesse couldn''t help but notice that the woman looked like a Vargas pinup girl for the 1950''s. She had a cute, dimpled smile and a gorgeous figure. Around her slim neck was a navy blue and white polka dot Hermes silk scarf that was tied in a sailor''s knot just above her tight-fitting white cotton blouse that was unbuttoned at the top and tied in a knot at her midriff. She rounded off the Vargas look with a pair of short, tight-fitting white shorts, navy blue pumps, and a matching blue Dooney and Bourke handbag perched on Bennetts''s bed. Jesse wasn''t even concerned about the hospital smell any longer because the perfume the woman was wearing was very pleasant and almost intoxicating. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure you boys have things to discuss, so I¡¯ll just go and powder my nose and get a cup of coffee.¡± Miss Hottie bent down, kissed Bennett softly on his lips, and whispered, ¡°Just give me a ring after you boys are through talking business.¡± With that, she winked at him and started for the door. As she passed Jesse, she said, ¡°It was very nice to meet you, Jesse.¡± ¡°The pleasure was all mine, Judy.¡± Jesse watched her leave, placed the first knuckle of his index finger into his mouth, and bit down hard, but he quickly removed it when she turned and waved before going out the door. When the door finally closed, Jesse said, "YOU''RE NEIGHBOR?" "Yeah¡­we just met recently." "You got to be shittin'' me?" "I shit you not, Major." "Do all your neighbors kiss you like that?" "No¡­ just her." Jesse shook his head and said, "Why can''t I have a neighbor that looks like that? I must be doing something wrong." Jesse was about to tell Bennett to be careful with this woman, but he knew he was a big boy and could take care of himself. Jesse also knew that Bennett was a prize catch, not because of his looks and well-kept body but because of his wealth. His sister and only sibling started working for Microsoft shortly after it was founded, encouraging her brother to invest in the fledgling company. Now Bennett was worth millions, although he didn¡¯t live like it. He was content with the simple things in life. But one of the things he did with his wealth was to start and fund the private company Jesse now worked for. Bennett had officially retired five years ago, although he was still actively seeking government contracts. ¡°What? I thought you were the lady killer.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid those days are long gone, General.¡± ¡°Shit, son, the day I give up on women is the day they put me in the ground.¡± ¡°From what I heard, you came very close. Scuttlebutt says that you came under some pretty heavy firepower from those men. I also understand they wore body armor, and you still managed to come out on top. I¡¯m impressed!¡± ¡°Well, they got in their licks before I put them down. I think I had a guardian angel watching over me. I also heard that you were in a little skirmish yourself the other day. It looks like you fared much better than then I did.¡± Jesse knew that General Jackson had filled Bennett in on the operation. ¡°Well, I was always a better soldier than you, sir.¡± Bennett snorted; ¡°Only in your dreams, kid.¡± At that, Jesse chuckled a bit before both men started to laugh. Suddenly, Bennett¡¯s laughter was cut short by the pain in his chest. ¡°Jesse you asshole¡­ don¡¯t make me laugh. It hurts too much.¡± Jesse finally got down to the real reason for his visit. He gave Bennett a firsthand account of the events that took place in Phuket. ¡°Has the Mossad been able to extract anything from Rakov yet?¡± Bennet asked Jesse after he had finished giving him his synopsis. Jesse shook his head, ¡°I spoke with Eli this morning. He said he believes Rakov wants to cut a deal, but they¡¯re having difficulty understanding him because his jaw is wired shut. Compounded by the fact that his writing skills are not very good. Yet despite all that, he still feels like they¡¯re making progress and should have something for us very soon.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°I¡¯m skeptical that he knows anything of any value. What¡¯s your take on him?¡± ¡°I have to agree with you, sir. But right now, he¡¯s the only lead we have that can tie this all together.¡± Bennett rubbed the stubble on his chin and nodded. Jesse had never told Bennett about his conversation with Sanders on his last day in Xuan Loc, and for the next few minutes, he relayed his story. Bennett listened respectfully and kept his opinions to himself during Jesse¡¯s entire disclosure, only asking a few questions along the way. When Jesse finished, Bennett said softly, ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t know about Sanders, but then again, you had your problems at the time. Back then, I did hear some rumors about Sydney. And from what I gathered, there was no significant proof that would hold up to any scrutiny. Now, it seems that the rumors may have been true. But I still have a hard time believing that she had anything to do with Jensen¡¯s death.¡± Jesse sincerely wanted to believe this, yet the facts didn''t bear that out. Despite everything he had learned recently, he still had a soft spot in his heart for her. Jesse left before Miss Hottie returned and promised to inform the General of any new developments. He walked out of the hospital and was thankful to finally breathe fresh air again, although the woman''s scent still lingered on his mind. Maybe it was time that he found someone. It had been a long time since he¡­well. He left the thought drift out of his mind. As he stood outside the hospital and breathed the fresh ocean air, he said aloud to no one in particular, "Lucky bastard." ***** Jesse¡¯s next stop was to visit David Choi, who was recovering at St. Thomas Hospital. He met with David and discussed everything that happened in his apartment and the events in Phuket. Jesse also took a picture of the two of them and sent it to Shawn and Tim Choi. Jesse spent some time with his doctor and was told that David would fully recover but would need extensive physical therapy before he could return to work. A few hours later, Jesse left the dry California sunshine for Minnesota''s warm and humid air. He arrived at the nursing home in Farmington in the late afternoon and was directed to a day area where he found Zed sitting alone. Jesse sat and talked with the elderly man and sadly realized that Zed was no longer the man he once was. Zed could remember only bits and pieces of his past, although nothing that could help Jesse in the least. He thanked Zed for his time and was soon heading for the exit. The nursing home administrator happened to see him leave, and she stopped him just before he made it to the exit. ¡°Mr. Taylor, thank you for coming by to see Zed. He hasn¡¯t gotten many visitors since his wife died, and he is such a nice man. I only wish you could have spoken with him before, well¡­you know. One of his nieces from St. Paul came in the other day and told me they¡¯re having an estate sale at Zed¡¯s farm today. Maybe you should go there?¡± Jesse thanked her for the information and shortly thereafter was driving for the small town of Castle Rock, just a few miles south of Farmington. The day was pleasant, with a warm breeze from the south, and Jesse enjoyed seeing the rolling hills in a sea of green. He saw a few tractors working the fields as the framers cultivated their crops of corn and soybeans in the warm sunshine. Nothing seemed to change in the country. He could imagine Peter Jensen as a young boy on one of those tractors working the fields as they were today. Following his GPS navigation, Jesse pulled off the tar road and onto a two-lane gravel road that led to the Jensen farm. He noted with amusement that most of the drivers that he passed waved at him, and he found himself waving back just to be polite. Soon, he saw signs for the estate sale, and within minutes, he was pulling into the Jensen¡¯s farmyard and parking his rented sedan along with about a dozen other cars and trucks in the farmyard. Despite not being raised on a farm, Jesse knew this was different from your typical barn and farmhouse. They were too new. Dressed in tan khakis and a simple short-sleeved white shirt, Jesse grabbed his navy blue sports jacket for the passenger¡¯s seat when he got out of his rental. He slipped it on and made his way to the main door to the farmhouse. He casually walked past the front yard, littered with old junk that was for sale that nobody probably wanted, and entered through the front door. Jesse was greeted by a bubbly woman about his age that carried a few extra pounds. The woman noted his clothes and said, ¡°Hello, thanks for stopping by. The sale is just about over, and I want you to know that the prices are negotiable now.¡± ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m here for another reason. Are you the administrator of the Jensen estate?¡± ¡°Why, Yes, I am. I¡¯m Susan Hustead, Mary, and Zed¡¯s niece. How can I help you, Mr.?¡± Jesse pulled out an official-looking badge he used for occasions like this and quickly held it up for Susan to see. ¡°Taylor Ma¡¯am, Jesse Taylor. I¡¯m with a branch of the U.S. Government that is currently investigating a closed incident that Zed may have been involved in years ago.¡± Jesse stretched the truth but wasn¡¯t far off. ¡°Oh my, is Zed in some kind of trouble?¡± Jesse kept a straight face and shook his head, ¡°No, Ma¡¯am, not at all,¡± Jesse said using a Jack Webb line. ¡°As you may or may not know, Zed¡¯s son worked for the CIA. This case involves something that he was working on back in the early 70¡¯s. Susan, did you find any old letters anywhere in the house¡­maybe in a shoebox or the bottom of a desk drawer? I¡¯m specifically looking for letters written to Mary and Zed from Peter while he was in Vietnam.¡± Susan thought momentarily, then said, ¡°There were some old letters in a desk drawer, but I don¡¯t recall who they were from.¡± ¡°Can you show them to me?¡± Just then, a man wearing bib overalls placed a few items on the table set up as a check-out counter and eyed Jesse before clearing his throat. Susan told the impatient man she would be with him in a minute, and then turned back to Jesse. ¡°Mr. Taylor, you¡¯re more than welcome to look through the entire home, even the marked private room. That¡¯s where you¡¯ll find the desk and other things I keep for myself. I¡¯d show you, but I¡¯m the only one working the checkout.¡± Jesse nodded and said, ¡°Thank you, Susan; I think I can find it myself.¡± Jesse knew that Clayson had already sent a team to search the Jensen home without Susan¡¯s knowledge, and they came up with nothing, but he wanted to look for himself. Jesse found the room marked ¡°Private¡± and entered. He quickly spotted the desk. Before he started his search, he noticed two pictures on the wall. Jesse had never seen a picture of Peter Jensen before, but he was sure he was looking at him now. One photo looked like it was taken from his senior year in high school, and another photo was of the same young man standing next to what appeared to be a younger teenager, although he stood a foot taller. It took Jesse about fifteen minutes to review all of the desk''s material. He found no letters from Peter or any notes or material remotely related to encryption. Everything he saw was recent. Jesse finished looking through everything else in the room and then looked through the rest of the home. Susan correctly stated that there wasn''t much left in the house for sale. He did find a stack of books, but they were primarily recent fiction novels mixed in with some Christian books, including several Bibles. He noticed several large paperbacks by Joel Rosenberg and knew none were published before 1975 because he had read a few. Jesse weaved his way around all the shoppers, and he finally came to the front door, where Susan was engaged in a conversation with a little old lady who was paying for several small items. From the sound of their conversation, the old woman knew Mary Jensen, and just because another customer was waiting, she wasn¡¯t about to finish talking anytime soon. She looked at Jesse up and down and kept talking about Mary even though she had received her change and had her items wrapped in newspaper and placed in a brown paper bag. Jesse finally had enough, and he butted in despite the irritated look on the old woman¡¯s face. ¡°Thanks again for all your help, Susan. I¡¯m just going to look around outside, and then I¡¯ll come back and see you before I leave.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t find what you were looking for, Mr. Taylor?¡± Susan asked. The old woman stopped talking and stared at the rude man who interrupted her. She glared at Jesse through squinted eyes, and her lips formed a tight, thin line, indicating her disapproval of his discourteous behavior. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t, but thank you for your help.¡± ¡°You¡¯re entirely welcome, Mr. Taylor. See if you can track down Nils. He should be somewhere outside or in the barn. You can¡¯t miss him; he¡¯s a mountain of a man. He was the Jensen¡¯s long-time neighbor helping me with the things in the barn and the outbuilding since I didn¡¯t have a clue about any of that stuff. Oh, by the way, Nils and Peter were childhood friends. I just thought you¡¯d like to know.¡± Jesse thanked Susan again and smiled at the old woman, who now had her mouth open and was staring daggers at Jesse. Just before Jesse walked out the door, he heard the old hag ask, ¡°Who was that rude man?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s confidential, Ma¡¯am.¡± Jesse simply smiled. Chapter 74 Chapter 74 Jesse crossed the farmyard and spotted a group of men in blue jeans and seed hats admiring an old green tractor parked just outside the closed barn doors. He noticed a sign on it that said, ¡°1947 John Deere Model A, Taking bids see Nils.¡± He walked up to the group and asked for Nils. One man told him that he could find him in the barn. Jesse entered the barn through a service door and ran straight into a brick wall made of flesh. The huge man was reaching for something on an upper-floor support beam. Jesse didn¡¯t have to look up to many men, but he had to tilt his head backward to look into his face. "There isn''t much left in here, mister, but you''re welcome to look around. We pretty much-sold everything except for some antique single-row implements if you''re interested in that sort of thing. We also have that 47 John Deere out there that we''re taking bids on. That beauty still runs perfectly, and it has an electric starter." Jesse watched the big man as he brought his hand down with a little ball of fur in it. The man held out this huge hand, and Jesse could see a tiny kitten inside it. He set the kitten down on the dirt floor, and it quickly scampered away in search of its mother. "Well, I''m actually looking for a man named Nils. I was told that I could find him in here." Nils looked at the man quizzically and said, "I''m Nils; how can I help you, sir?" Jesse stuck out his hand and said, "Hello, Nils, my name is Jesse Taylor. I understand that you knew Peter Jensen. I''d like to ask you a few questions, if you don''t mind." Nils stuck out his hand, and the two men shook hands. Jesse was amazed at the size of the man¡¯s hand. It was like a small child shaking hands with an adult. But despite his size, Jesse was surprised by the gentleness of his grip. Jesse figured that he had crushed so many hands and paid so many hospital bills that he was now cautious of any hand he shook. ¡°No, I don¡¯t mind at all¡­can I ask you why you¡¯re interested in Peter? Are you with the government? ¡°No, I¡¯m a private contractor representing the government¡¯s interests. I¡¯m looking into some letters Peter sent home while stationed in Vietnam.¡± Nils looked slightly confused by his answer and visibly relaxed when he heard his explanation. ¡°Well, Mr. Taylor, I don¡¯t know how I can help you, but I¡¯m willing to answer any questions you may have.¡± ¡°Nils, how well did you know Peter Jensen?¡± ¡°I suspect that you know that I live on the next farm down the road and that I¡¯ve lived there all my life. Well, sir, Peter was like a big brother to me. Peter was five years older, but there weren¡¯t too many other kids around, so we played together when we were kids. Peter was the smart one, though; he was the smartest person I¡¯ve ever met, except maybe for his father, Zed. When we were kids, we would go to the theater in Farmington and see all those James Bond movies, and I thought it would be the coolest thing in the world to be a spy. So when Peter got accepted to join the CIA, I thought he was the luckiest man in the world. But that all came crashing down when I learned that he was killed in Vietnam. That was one of the saddest days of my life, Mr. Taylor.¡± ¡°Nils, did Peter ever write you any letters when he was in Vietnam, or did Zed share any letters he received with you?¡± Nils looked at Jesse skeptically and asked, ¡°Mr. Taylor, can I ask you why the government is interested in something that happened so long ago?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but all it can tell you now is that my investigation is a national security matter, and anything we discuss today must be held strictly confidential.¡± If nothing else, Nils had a perfect poker face. For a long moment, he stood and looked at Jesse with a stone face before answering. ¡°Okay, I understand. Can I ask you if this has anything to do with that government lady who set fire to Mary and Zed¡¯s house and barn shortly after Peter¡¯s death? Because, as I recollect, she kind of asked the same questions you¡¯re asking right now, Mr. Taylor.¡± Jesse was stunned by his words. He said, ¡°What?¡± without even realizing it. He regained his composure and asked, ¡°What woman?¡± ¡°She claimed to be with the CIA. She came to see the Jensens shortly after they received the news of Peter¡¯s death. I distinctly remember her because it was the night that I got our tractor stuck in a ditch not far from our farmhouse. We went to the Jensen¡¯s to ask Zed for help because he had a big new tractor and could pull us out. When we got there, the CIA woman was leaving, and I remember standing awestruck at the sight of her. I was just a plain country boy, and I had never seen such a beautiful lady in all my life. I remember her saying something to me, but I was so tongue-tied that I couldn¡¯t say a single word in reply. I think it was the next day that Zed told my father that she claimed to be with the government and that she was asking about some letters that Peter had sent home just before he was killed, just like you¡¯re doing right now.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you remember her name or what she looked like?¡± Jesse watched as Nils shook his head from side to side and said, ¡°Sorry¡­.I don¡¯t remember her name, but she was pretty tall and had short blond hair.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sure her hair was blond?¡± ¡°Yes, sir, it sure was.¡± ¡°So what makes you so sure that she burned down their home and barn?¡± ¡°Because Zed told my father she did.¡± ¡°What¡­that night?¡± ¡°No, it was a few days later. Now, this happened a long time ago, but I remember it like yesterday, simply because it made me so angry. Zed told my dad that he suspected that she was the same CIA woman that Peter was so infatuated with in Vietnam. Peter had sent a picture of her in one of his letters. Apparently, Mary had made a comment that she looked like the CIA woman in the picture that Peter had sent home. At that, Zed said that she seemed to change instantly. She asked to see the photo, but Zed told her that he had destroyed all of Peter¡¯s letters along with the picture because the memories were too painful. He said the woman didn¡¯t seem to buy it, and that¡¯s when we showed up at his door for help, and the woman left soon after that.¡± ¡°Did you remember if Zed contacted the police about the incident?¡± Nils shook his large head, ¡°No¡­Zed said something about letting sleeping dogs lie. Besides, he got this new barn and that house over there with the insurance money.¡± Jesse smiled and rocked back on his heels as he heard the exact words that Shawn had used just a few days ago. ¡°Okay, do you know if any of the letters that Zed and Peter used to communicate while he was in Vietnam were encrypted?¡± Jesse watched as a smile formed on the big man¡¯s face, and he said, ¡°As far as I know, not all but many of them were!¡± Jesse was ecstatic when he heard this, although he hid his emotions and asked, ¡°Did Zed ever show you any of Peter¡¯s letters?¡± ¡°Sure, not all, but a lot of them. After Peter left, Zed hired me to do some chores for them, so I was over here almost every day, and he would show me the letters after he decoded them because he knew I would get a kick out of them. Some had squares and circular mazes, others with symbols, and still others with just numbers, and some with both. They were like something an alien from outer space would write.¡± ¡°I have just a couple more questions, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± Without waiting for a reply, Jesse asked, ¡°Do you know if the fire destroyed all of Peter¡¯s letters, and do you know if Zed has any code keys, reference books, or notes that he kept in the house?¡± ¡°Well, I can tell you that the fire didn¡¯t destroy all the letters, and secondly, Zed did have code and reference books and notes because I saw them. They were all in the fortress.¡± ¡°The fortress?¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s what Peter and I called it, but it was really a bomb shelter that was built sometime in the 1950s¡± during the Cold War when everyone was worried about the threat of nuclear war. I can show it to you if you like, but I have to warn you, it¡¯s quite a mess and doesn¡¯t smell very pleasant.¡± ¡°Please lead the way. I¡¯d love to see it.¡± As they walked, Nils related how he and Peter would watch Zed operate his Ham Radio in the shelter while the neighbor ladies met for their weekly bridge parties in the Jensen home. One of the persons he would talk to was a former intelligence officer like himself, and they would talk about encryption and all the new technology that was coming out. He recalled Peter being so enthralled by the whole encrypting thing that it was all he had wanted to do for a while. Then, when Peter joined the CIA, he challenged his father with new codes, which became a game between them. ¡°When Zed was still around, he kept the place in perfect condition. It has its own heating and air conditioning. And a fresh air purification unit. After Zed entered the nursing home, the door seals gave out, equipment broke down, and a lot of¡­well. You¡¯ll see. As they walked to the bomb shelter, they passed several men still milling around the old tractor, and one man asked Nils if he could talk for a moment. Nils stopped and spoke briefly with the man, then returned to Jesse, who was waiting for him. As they continued on their journey, Nils said, ¡°So, Mr. Taylor, you neglected to tell me if your investigation has anything to do with that woman?¡± Jesse cracked a thin smile. The man was sharper than he looked. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I can¡¯t discuss the details.¡± Nils nodded and said, ¡°I certainly understand, but just between you and me, I think you should look into her.¡± ¡°Thanks for your advice¡­I¡¯ll take it under advisement.¡± Jesse followed the big man to what looked like an ordinary workshed. Nils pulled open the door, and the two men walked in. Nils found the light switch and led Jesse over to a rope with a counterweight attached to it. He pulled on the rope, and a trap door opened on the floor. Jesse looked down the stairwell that was nine or ten feet below him and could see a closed door. ¡°Well, there it is¡­¡°The fortress¡±. Why don¡¯t you go and have a look while I go back and start the tractor for that man who stopped me? When you enter, the light switch is inside the door on the left side. But like I said, it¡¯s not a pretty sight.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. You go ahead and take care of business. If I have any questions, I know where to find you.¡± The two men parted, and Jesse grabbed hold of the steel railing and descended the crumbling steps until he finally reached the door landing. He could see that someone had recently opened one of the double doors because of the debris that had been swept aside after the door had been pulled open, although he doubted that it was Clayson¡¯s team that opened it. He turned the door handle and started to pull the door open. As he did, the unoiled hinges shrieked in protest until it was fully opened, and the irritating noise stopped. Jesse found the light switch and flipped it on. The room was instantly washed in the soft glow of fluorescent lights. Nils was right; it wasn¡¯t a pretty sight. Jesse watched as a dozen mice, some big and some small, scurried from the light while others just held their ground and weren¡¯t the least bit intimidated by the tall stranger standing in the doorway. As he stepped into the room, he felt like he had somehow traveled through a time warp. The place was a living monument of the fear that gripped the world in the face of global nuclear war. Jesse¡¯s mind raced back to the time when his elementary school teacher would direct the class to duck under their desks during a civil defense drill. Now, in the small town of Jamestown, NY, there was very little chance of a nuclear bomb being dropped anywhere near that hamlet. Still, your odds would significantly improve if you lived anywhere near a major population center, like Minneapolis or St. Paul. And that desk that you were hiding under, along with you, your classmates, and your teacher, would be instantly vaporized within seconds after the initial blast. Once inside, the smell of the toolshed, which could be a pleasant odor to some men, was quickly replaced by something a little less inviting. And after he scanned the deteriorating walls, he understood why. The concrete walls were lined with shelving that contained foodstuffs and other essential items that could sustain several people for months, if not a year or more. The only problem was that besides canned and dry goods, someone had stored home canned food jars that burst when the temperature dropped below the freezing point, and no one bothered to clean them up. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Jesse was so busy looking at the mess that he was unaware he had walked in a mess of cobwebs until he felt something crawling along the back of his neck. He quickly brushed the sticky substance out of his hair and expelled the eight-legged insect off his neck with one quick hand motion. But spiders weren¡¯t the only insects in abundance with him in the room. The floor, walls, and ceiling were crawling with thousands of insects. Centipedes, millipedes, crickets, beetles, ants, and other flying and crawling creatures filled the room. Jesse could see that the sacks of flour and other dried goods were being systematically devoured as the packages were either chewed or bitten open. As for the food in the broken jars, nothing was left except the broken glass and stains that covered the floor. The room was much larger than he had anticipated. He estimated the room to be about thirty feet square, and besides all the shelves, it was almost filled with furniture. There was a sofa and coffee table, two twin bunk beds, a large wooden desk, a Formica-covered kitchen table with four matching vinyl padded chairs, and several table and floor lamps. Across from the sofa was a table with an old tube-style television sitting on top of it. In the farthest corner, he could see what appeared to be the heating and air conditioning unit. And by the looks of it, it was the original unit. He wasn¡¯t sure what they planned for sanitation, although he didn¡¯t really care at the moment. Jesse slowly walked over to the wooden desk in the far left corner of the room and decided it was an excellent place to start. It was a big roll-top model with a dozen or more pigeonhole compartments that were mostly empty. In the middle of the desk sat an antique Commodore 64 computer with an external drive and an index box that contained a dozen floppy disks. Next to the old computer was a Smith Corona electric typewriter of the same vintage. Both were covered in a thick layer of dust. Jesse looked to his left and was greeted by a bookshelf filled with books, magazines, and a few dozen VCR movies. Subconsciously, he nodded when he saw the books and continued looking through the desk. After ten minutes of searching through all the drawers and compartments, he was very disappointed that he couldn¡¯t find any letters or notes remotely connected to codes or encryption. Not discouraged, he turned his attention back to the books. On the top shelf was an entire volume of ¡°The Book of Knowledge,¡± published by Grolier. He picked up the first book of twenty and looked at the printing date of 1963; then, he quickly paged through the rest of the book. What amazed him was that the encyclopedia wasn¡¯t written in alphabetical order. Instead, the topics were random, and the illustrations were amazingly beautiful. He placed the book back on the shelf and paged through several others in the volume before he moved on. He was pleased to find several books on encryption, but he expected that. What he wasn¡¯t expecting were the other books that he saw. There were books on chemistry, physics, math, and science, and all the publications were old. Then there was the fiction: Shakespeare, Poe, Hemmingway, Steinbeck, Whitman, Fitzgerald, Mark Twain, and many more. Jesse picked up a copy of Tom Sawyer and quickly paged through it before returning it to its original place on the shelf. One thing he noted about all the books was that they all smelled musty, reducing their value dramatically. Jesse took a tour of the rest of the room and noted nothing of interest except for a cheaply made gun case that now stood empty. Having seen enough and growing tired of the smell; Jesse made his way for the door and the fresh country air waiting for him outside. As he climbed the stairs, he could hear the distinct sound of a big, twin-cylinder tractor running in the distance. Nils was sitting in the tractor seat as several men stood around and listened for imperfections as it ran. Jesse waved at Nils, who shut down the tractor and walked over to meet him. ¡°I forgot to tell you that we took anything of value out of the shelter. What we thought wouldn¡¯t sell, we just left.¡± ¡°Well, it just so happens that there are some books that I wanted to talk to you about. I would like to purchase all of them along with some old computer floppy discs.¡± ¡°Did you find any of the letters?¡± ¡°No, I didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Well, if it was up to me, I¡¯d just let you have the whole lot and be thankful to get rid of them, but it¡¯s not. You¡¯ll have to ask Susan if she wants anything for them.¡± ¡°Ok, I¡¯ll do that.¡± Jesse started to walk to the house, then turned and asked Nils another question. ¡°Oh, by the way, there is a picture of two young men in a room that¡¯s marked private. Is that a picture of you and Peter?¡± Nils put a big grin on his face and said, ¡°Yes, it is; that was taken by my mother at our farm when Peter had just finished college. My mother had it blown up, and she gave it to the Jensen as a gift not long after their home burned down. She felt sorry that they lost all of their pictures of Peter in the fire.¡± Jesse nodded in understanding and said, ¡°Thanks Nils.¡± Then he turned and walked to the house to inquire about purchasing the books from Susan. Just before he entered, he watched as a new Ford F-250 pulled into the driveway and backed up to the front door. He went inside and found Susan still sitting behind her table. ¡°Hello again, Mr. Taylor. Did you find anything outside?¡± ¡°As a matter of fact, I did. There are about 50 books and a dozen or so old computer floppy discs in the storm shelter that I¡¯d like to purchase from you.¡± ¡°Oh, for heaven¡¯s sake; all those old smelly books, what on earth would you want those for?¡± Jesse didn¡¯t want to banter with the woman, so he came to the point, ¡°How much for all of them?¡± Susan shrugged and said, ¡°How does ten dollars sound?¡± ¡°Sold, but I don¡¯t plan on taking them with me. I¡¯m going to send some men to pick them up later. Will you still be here tomorrow?¡± ¡°Oh yes, I still have a lot of work to do here.¡± ¡°Good, then you can expect them tomorrow. I¡¯ll have them call first if you can leave me your cell number.¡± ¡°That will be fine. Do you want me to box them up for you?¡± ¡°No, they will take care of that, but thanks for offering, Susan; you¡¯ve been a big help.¡± Jesse took a ten-dollar bill from the wallet and handed it to the woman. ¡°Oh, no problem¡­I hope you find what you¡¯re looking for.¡± ¡°So do I, Susan, so do I.¡± Jesse felt a presence behind him, and he turned to see a short elderly gentleman with neatly combed, wiry gray hair smiling at him. ¡°Please take your time; I¡¯m in no hurry.¡± The man said. ¡°No, I¡¯m done here; she¡¯s all yours.¡± ¡°Thank you, my good man.¡± Jesse inwardly laughed. He hadn¡¯t heard anyone use that phrase except in old movies. Susan spotted the elderly gentleman and said, ¡°Oh, hello again. I held your things for you. I had a lot of interest in the cabinet. I could have sold it quite a few times.¡± ¡°Thanks for holding it for me. I really appreciate it.¡± At the door, Jesse turned and watched as the man handed Susan a handful of bills. Then he stopped when he spotted something on the floor behind Susan¡¯s chair. It was an old camera enclosed in a leather carrying case. Jesse continued to watch as Susan reached behind her, picked up the camera, and placed it on the table. "I''ll wrap up your camera while you load the China cabinet. By the way, do you need some help with it?" "No thanks, I brought someone with me." "You know, I''m actually surprised that someone would want this old camera now that everything is going digital. Can you still buy film for these old things?" "Oh yes," was his simple reply as he walked toward the cabinet. When the camera was placed on the table, Jesse noticed three initials burned into the leather case. He decided to take a closer look. He returned to the table and said, "I''m sorry, I couldn''t help but overhear your conversation. I know the camera has been sold, but I''d like to look at it if you don''t mind." Susan looked at the buyer, who had turned around when he heard their conversation, and he nodded his approval. "I guess it''s ok with the buyer, but I have to warn you it''s still a little smelly. Nils got it out of the bomb shelter along with some shotguns. They were the only things we thought we could sell. I''m surprised that gentleman bought it, to be honest with you." Jesse picked it up, and the first thing that he noticed was the initials ¡°PWJ¡± burned into the leather case. At that moment, he knew that the camera belonged to Peter Jensen, and he wondered if it was the one he had used in Vietnam or if it was an older model he had left at home. He recalled that a camera and all of Jensen¡¯s film disappeared from his room after he was killed. Jesse undid the snap on the case and removed the camera. Jesse had never owned an expensive film camera, so he had no clue as to what he was looking at or how old it was. Right at that moment, two men were making their way to the front door with the cabinet in their grasp. When they reached the front door, they set the cabinet down and rested for a minute. Jesse took this opportunity to ask the new owner if he had a minute to talk. ¡°Sure, just as soon as I get this into the back of my truck.¡± Two minutes later, the man returned, and Jesse engaged him. ¡°It seems that you¡¯re the new owner of this camera. What can you tell me about it? Do you have any idea how old it is?¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s an old Professional Nikon F2. I believe they were made from about 1960 to the mid-1970s. This particular model was made in 1974 because the serial number starts with 736. I have a Nikon reference book in my truck, and I looked it up. It¡¯s in excellent condition, and I shouldn¡¯t have too much trouble selling it.¡± ¡°It sounds like you know a lot about old cameras. What line of work are you in?¡± ¡°I used to own a camera shop in Cannon Falls. Now I have a consignment and antique store there.¡± Jesse turned the camera over in his hands and pondered if this camera could have been returned to the Jensen¡¯s after Peter¡¯s death. Jesse handed the camera to the owner and asked Susan. ¡°Did you find any pictures or film with the camera?¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so. You can ask Nils if he did.¡± ¡°There is some undeveloped film in the camera,¡± the new owner said casually. Jesse turned and said, ¡°Excuse me, what did you say?¡± ¡°There is some undeveloped film in the camera. In fact, I¡¯d say that three out of ten cameras I buy at estate sales have undeveloped film in them. The frame counter shows that 24 of the 36 frames have been exposed.¡± "Can you show me?" Jesse asked. "Sure, no problem." The antique dealer showed Jesse the frame counter. "Do you have any idea how old the film is?" "No, I won''t know that until I remove the film." "Can you do that now without damaging the film¡­ let''s say if it''s very old?" "Well, it depends on how old the film is and the conditions the camera was exposed to during storage. The film could break when I manually roll the film out of its case, but it wouldn''t affect the exposed film in the roll itself." "Would the pictures still be good, let''s say, if it was taken in 1975?" "Well, that depends." "On what?" "Just like a bottle of red wine, it would depend on temperature, moisture, and the quality of the film itself. I''ve heard of a twenty-year-old film that was developed and still came out looking good." "I see; can I ask you what you plan on doing with the camera?" ¡°Of course, I plan on reselling it once I get it working properly.¡± ¡°Can I ask you what you plan on selling it for once you do that?¡± ¡°With the extra lenses, I was hoping to get around 300 to 400 dollars.¡± Jesse was sure the price was high, and he didn¡¯t pay nearly that much. However, he was left with no alternative. He wanted to buy it with the film still inside. He was taking a gamble that Peter took the film inside while he was in Vietnam, but it was a gamble he was willing to take. ¡°How much would you take just for the camera the way it sits right now?¡± Just by his questions, he knew the man wanted the film and not the camera. He didn¡¯t want to scare off the potential buyer, especially when he knew he could make a fast buck. ¡°I guess I¡¯d take 200 just for the camera. Why are you interested?¡± ¡°I might be, but I need to check with someone first. Give me a few minutes, and I¡¯ll be right back.¡± ¡°No problem.¡± Jesse shot out the door and spotted Nils talking with the man interested in buying the John Deere tractor. Nils watched him approach and knew that he had another question judging from the look on his face and his fast gate. Both men stopped talking when Jesse finally closed in on them and waited. Seeing this, Jesse said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for interrupting, but I just have a quick question for Nils, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± The potential buyer nodded, and Jesse said, ¡°Nils, the Nikon camera you found in the bomb shelter has Peter¡¯s initials on it. Do you know anything about it? Did Peter use it in Vietnam?¡± ¡°Yes, the camera belonged to Peter. It was shipped back from Vietnam with the rest of his belongings after¡­.you know.¡± ¡°Are you absolutely positive?¡± ¡°I sure am. I was helping Zed with the chores when the box arrived. The funny thing is the camera wasn¡¯t in the box when we first looked through it.¡± Shawn looked confused and asked, ¡°The camera wasn¡¯t in the box?¡± Nils started to chuckle. ¡°That is until Zed remembered that Peter had a carpenter make a box with a false bottom for him. He had some camera equipment stolen from him before and didn¡¯t want that to happen again.¡± ¡°Do you still have the box?¡± ¡°I put it outside with some other junk by the barn. Let¡¯s take a look. I think it¡¯s still there.¡± Jesse followed Nils past assorted worthless junk until Nils said triumphantly, ¡°There it is.¡± The box wasn''t big. It was two-foot square and painted olive green. On top was Peter Jensen''s name stenciled in bold black letters with his MN address below it. A rusted piano hinge was attached to the lid and back panel, and a rusted hasp in front for a padlock to secure it. Nils bent down and opened the lid for Jesse to see. It was empty. ¡°It took Zed quite a spell to figure it out, but he finally got the false bottom open. Do you see what looks like little vent holes toward the bottom of the side panels?¡± Nils asked. Jesse nodded, waiting for Nils to continue. ¡°Well, sir, that carpenter must have been a pretty clever fellow because of all those holes, you had to push in two to open the inside lid. But you had to do it in the right sequence. Let me show you. I¡¯ll be back in a jiffy.¡± Jesse watched as Nils walked over to the barn and returned in less than a minute. He inserted a two-inch nail into one of the holes on the right side and then into the next one in the front of the box, four holes down from the corner, Jesse heard an audible click and the inner lid popped open several inches on a unseen spring loaded hinge. Jesse was amazed and said, ¡°How did you remember which holes to push after all this time?¡± Nils chuckled again and said, ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­I remembered that Zed marked the holes with a pencil.¡± Nils pointed to the pencil marks with a sly grin on his large face. Jesse smiled back and said, ¡°That makes sense. I would have done the same thing myself.¡± Now Jesse reached into the box and fully opened the inner lip to reveal an amazing sight. On the bottom was a thick foam pad, now quite yellowed with age, with cutouts for two camera bodies and several others that looked like camera lens cutouts. A foam pad was also attached to the bottom of the lid that compressed into the bottom pad, securing the cameras in place. ¡°Were both cameras in there when you Zed opened it?¡± Jesse asked. Nils shook his head, ¡°No, just the one in the house, two lenses, and a lot of gold coins.¡± Jesse snapped his head toward Nils, ¡°Gold coins?¡± ¡°Yes sir¡­gold coins, thirty in fact¡­twenty dollar 1882 Liberty¡¯s to be exact. They were in a purple sack with a pullstring. You know, like the ones you get when you buy that whiskey or whatever it is.¡± ¡°You remember that it was an 1882 Liberty?¡± Jesse seemed surprised that Nils still remembered the coin after all those years. ¡°Yes, Sir...Zed gave me one. I worked for Mary and Zed that same summer, and Zed gave me one gold coin before I went back to school. He said that it was a bonus for all my hard work. I still have it today. I never sold it.¡± Jesse slowly lowered his head and nodded as if he was in deep thought. The analogy of the thirty pieces wasn¡¯t lost on him. He finally looked up and asked, ¡°Do you know if Zed ever used Peter¡¯s camera?¡± Nils started to laugh and said, ¡°Not that I know of¡­but I can tell you for a certainty that I have never seen the man take any picture with any camera in my life. I don¡¯t think he even owned one. Besides, the camera and lenses were still in the box when I pulled them out last week. I thought Zed sold it, but apparently, he didn¡¯t.¡± Jesse stuck out his hand and said, ¡°Thanks for everything, Nils. You¡¯ve been a great help.¡± Jesse found the man waiting patiently outside his pickup truck. ¡°I suppose you¡¯d like cash?¡± The man smiled and said, ¡°Cash would be just fine!¡± Chapter 75 Chapter 75 Ali sat in his favorite garden spot under a large Travelers Palm. If anyone happened to observe him, he appeared to be very calm and contented. But in reality, that was far from the case. Inwardly, he was fuming. He read the coded and encrypted e-mail for the third time, folded the paper, and placed it in his breast pocket. Ali had no idea how this could have happened again. The report stated that the operation in Phuket must have failed. There had been no word from Smith or any of his men and no police report of any disturbance at the Harris home. All of Smith¡¯s men were instructed to place a coded message in an untraceable e-mail drop box if anything happened to Smith, but none was placed. Smith¡¯s handler attempted to contact him on a clean, one-and-done cell phone. Smith didn¡¯t pick up. It was inconceivable to Ali that one man could have wiped out all these highly trained killers by himself. Ali paused to think¡­unless? He waved at his personal assistant, and the young man approached him immediately. Within seconds, he was standing before the Sheik. He never made eye contact and bowed his head in his presence. Ali was unaware of a young man. His head was lowered in deep thought. He finally noticed the boy and said, ¡°I would like some fruit.¡± The young man bowed his head lower and spoke softly in Arabic, ¡°Yes, Your Excellency.¡± Could Harris have gotten help from the U.S.? Ali doubted it. All his sources in Washington had assured him otherwise. Then there was Bennett. His miraculous survival skills baffled him. Now, Harris seemed to have possessed the same abilities. His moles inside the CIA had heard nothing. More than likely, the help was acquired in Phuket somehow. Still, there was an outside chance. Yet another possibility accrued to him. Could Smith have switched sides? The more he thought about this, the more he doubted it. He was paying the man far too much for him to turn. Besides, he knew how much Smith loved things money could buy. He also knew the man had no ideological concerns about right and wrong. He was a hedonist who loved money regardless of where it came from. Now, as the young man returned with his stainless steel food and beverage cart, he wondered what his precious asset in the United States was thinking at that moment. ***** Janet had done this hundreds of times, yet everyone was different. The trick was to filter out everything except the target text. Joseph Martinez¡¯s confidence in her abilities was not unfounded. She had established himself as someone who could find a needle in a haystack. She possessed extremely high analytical skills and was never detoured by a complex task. In fact, she enjoyed the challenge. But what made Janet a bit nervous was the level of secrecy that Martinez had placed on the document. She was to work alone in her lab without any assistance. He made it completely clear that her findings were to be shared with no one but him and only on an encrypted and password-protected flash drive. No record of her finding was to be found anyplace else. In all the years that she had known him, he had never requested this before. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Janet looked at the yellowed page with all the random letters and numbers, placed it under a UV light, and quickly ruled out any hidden text written in security ink. Next, she used a highly sensitive laser scanner to search for any text or numbers that had been transferred from anything that had been written over it. The page was clean. She found no other writings. Janet set the page aside and concentrated on the envelope. Janet carefully cut the envelope at the seams into two separate pages. She started on the half that contained the closure flap, and using the same techniques she used on the yellowed page, she found no security ink. She did the same test with the other half of the envelope and got the same results. Then she scanned both halves for pressure imprints and wasn''t surprised to find that both were covered in text and hundreds of surface scratch lines as shallow as a few microns that were completely invisible to the naked eye. The next step was to take the images and filter out everything but the written text. After that, she could separate them further into coherent lines of text, knowing that many different lines of text were possibly written on the travel envelope that had been used repeatedly. Janet found that at least eight different hands had written something on top of the two envelope pages. With the use of a filter program, which she helped develop, she quickly separated the different handwritten notes or text by pressure depth and point width. Martinez had given her no background information or indication as to the content of the encrypted document. Her only task was to unravel its meaning. When the computer finished its task and arranged the separated text documents in order of length, she read the once-invisible text one by one. It took her only a short time to assess the documents'' time frame. Several notes were dated and addressed to high-ranking military and CIA officials. Some contained assessed VC and NVA troop movements and strengths in various South Vietnamese towns and cities. Janet finally came to the last and longest text document and immediately knew what she had. Above each word were very small numbers or letters that precisely matched the numbers and letters on the yellowed page inside the envelope. She leaned forward in her chair and read the document several times before leaning back and sighing. Janet had no idea who wrote the letter but felt pain and sorrow for whoever penned it. Chapter 76 Chapter 76 Within hours of leaving the green cornfields of Minnesota behind and despite the lateness of the hour, Jesse was personally met by the FBI director as his plane taxied to a stop inside a private hanger at Dulles International Airport. Just before he boarded his plane at the Joint Air Reserve Station at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, Jesse had gotten a call from General Jackson stating that the FBI had decoded the page, although he gave him no further information. Jesse pressed him, but he was told that Martinez would meet him at Dulles and that he would fill him in at that time. Now, all the material he had found in the ¡°fortress¡± seemed moot. He also informed him about finding Peter Jensen¡¯s camera, which still contained film. It was a long shot, but there might be something on the film that would point to a motive for murder. He also informed Jackson about the fire that consumed the Jensen¡¯s home and barn back in 1975 and his suspicions as to the person that might have caused it. Before their call ended, Jackson told Jesse he would pass this newfound information to Martinez and Clayson. ***** On the short two-hour flight, Jesse found it hard to believe that they had already deciphered the document so quickly, and he was extremely anxious to talk with Martinez. Jesse stepped off the plane and was greeted by the man with a warm smile and a firm handshake. ¡°Welcome home, Major. I understand that you had a very productive trip.¡± Jesse extended his hand to Director Martinez and said, ¡°Thanks, Joseph; it was great to see General Bennett again, and I was thrilled to hear that he¡¯s going to make a full recovery. I was also able to make some interesting discoveries at the Jensen farm, but I would like to find out what you came up with before we go into that, if that¡¯s all right with you, sir.¡± ¡°Very well¡­why don¡¯t we sit in my car? It¡¯s a little more comfortable and equipped with all sorts of little devices that will make our conversation much more private. Besides, I have some very nice brandy on board.¡± When the two men got into the back seat of the specialized Chevy Suburban, the driver opened his door and started to exit the vehicle when Martinez called out to him. ¡°Don¡¯t run off too far, Ronnie; we won¡¯t be long.¡± Ronnie poked his head back inside and said, ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting right outside the door whenever you¡¯re ready, sir.¡± After Ronnie closed the driver¡¯s door, Martinez opened a panel and pulled out a crystal decanter that was half full and two crystal highball glasses and set them on a pull-down shelf. ¡°Neat, or would you like some ice?¡± Martinez asked politely. ¡°Neat is just fine, sir.¡± Martinez handed him one of the glasses that held two inches of brandy and poured himself the same amount. ¡°Before we begin, I understand you have some film you would like to develop?¡± Martinez looked at the old camera case in Jesse¡¯s hands and said, ¡°I assume that¡¯s the camera in question?¡± ¡°Yes sir¡­indeed it is.¡± Jesse gave the FBI director a quick background on how the camera came into his hands, given the fact that Jensen¡¯s neighbor Nils was sure that the Jensens never used it after it was shipped back to them from Vietnam following Peter¡¯s death. It was a logical conclusion that Peter Jensen might have taken the film while stationed at Xuan Loc. ¡°So Joseph, the film inside could be worthless from excessive heat or cold over the decades since they were taken, or if the film is still good, the pictures could be nothing more than photos of¡­well, anything. But I know one thing for sure. Someone went to great lengths to find and steal all of Jensen¡¯s films after he was killed. I¡¯m just hoping that his killer missed these.¡± ¡°Well, I hope your hunch is correct, Major. Clayson has scheduled a meeting at Langley for zero nine hundred hours tomorrow. I¡¯ll have the film developed at Quantico before tomorrow¡¯s meeting, and we¡¯ll see what kind of photographer Mr. Jensen was.¡± Martinez lifted his briefcase onto his lap, turned the combination tumblers to the correct combination, pressed both tabs simultaneously, and the latches open simultaneously. He pulled a folder marked ¡°Warning, Highly Classified Material,¡± then pulled out two pages and handed them to Jesse. ¡°I think you¡¯ve earned the right to see this before tomorrow¡¯s meeting.¡± Jesse nodded and reached into his top pocket. He pulled out his reading glasses and put them on. The first document was a classified internal FBI report written by Janet Rockwell. Jesse read the document twice before switching pages and reading the second document. As he read the letter written by Peter Jensen, his mind raced back to the time he sat with Dave Sanders in his Jeep outside his bunkhouse. He was now reading that same letter. It didn¡¯t take Jesse long to see why Sanders was dazed and upset as he sat in his Jeep that day. The letter was disturbing. Jesse returned the documents to the FBI director, shook his head, and said. ¡°Is there any way we can verify any of this?¡± Martinez answered, ¡°We are looking into this as we speak. We might have some answers in the morning, but I am not hopeful after all these years. I hope there is something on the roll of film you found that will fill in the blanks.¡± Jesse nodded their head and then asked an obvious question. ¡°How were you able to decipher this so quickly?¡± ¡°Quite simple¡­Jensen wrote the letter on top of the travel envelope.¡± ¡°Are you telling me you used the old spy pencil on the writing tablet trick?¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s a little more elaborate than that, but yes, that is about the gest of it.¡± ¡°Unbelievable. I thought that it would be a whole lot tougher than that. Martinez hit the down button on his window. He said before it was even halfway down, ¡°I¡¯m ready, Ronnie.¡± Martinez turned back to Jesse and said, ¡°I have a lot of work yet to do tonight. I suggest you go home and get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a very busy day.¡± ***** Several hours later, Janet Rockwell entered Joseph Martinez''s office and handed him a flash drive that contained the film from Jensen''s camera. It had been developed, enlarged, and digitally enhanced. "Did you have any trouble developing the film?" Martinez asked. "The only problem I had was that the film was very brittle and had to be handled carefully. There were also some other issues. Some of the photos were taken indoors and some outside without the aid of a flash. I suspect the photographer used a long lens without a tripod and a large aperture with a slow shutter speed on some shots. This caused some of the photos to be blurred. I also believe some shots were taken outside and shot through a glass window that wasn''t exactly clear at the time, or the lens was very dirty, which I very much doubt. Other than that, it was a piece of cake." "Thank you, Janet. I appreciate you coming in on such short notice." "You''re very welcome, sir." Martinez didn¡¯t ask what was on the film, and Janet offered no insight. Now, she needed to get back home and try to get some sleep. But after what she saw in the photos, she knew that sleep would be hard to come by. ***** Martinez plugged the flash drive into his laptop, which had no network connection. When prompted, he entered the password Janet had also handed him and opened the files. For the next half hour, he carefully examined every photo. A lot of things were now falling into place, and he called Clayson, who was resting comfortably at his Virginia estate. The call lasted only several minutes, and within the hour, an armored SUV carrying four heavily armed CIA agents delivered the flash drive to his home. Martinez had told him about the photos but went into few details over the phone even though it was secure. After he viewed the photos, Tony Clayson was compelled to add several new players into the mix. He personally called each one and requested their presence at the morning meeting. Three had been appointed by President Roberts, The Attorney General, and the directors of the NSA and Homeland Security. He also called the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. All had tight schedules, but given the nature of his request, everyone changed their plans and planned to attend. He purposely left out two legislative branch members because of their strong ties to the current president. He debated whether to cut General Jackson and Major Taylor from the meeting. All the chips were now falling into place except for one, and Rakov was their only lead. But after giving it more consideration, he decided to keep them in the meeting simply because Taylor had too much skin in the game to cut him out now, and he felt that he could still use him because of his past relationship with the president. ***** Even though he had a lot of things running through his mind, Jesse was out the minute his head hit the pillow. The day had been long and arduous, and he was happy to be back in his own bed. He woke just minutes before the alarm clock was about to go off, and after a quick cup of black coffee, he jumped into the shower. Feeling rejuvenated, he made himself a breakfast of whole wheat toast and two eggs over easy and read the current news on his laptop while he ate. After breakfast, he checked and replied to several of his e-mails, phone, and text messages before he headed for the CIA headquarters at Langley. There were only two e-mails that he was pleased to receive. One was from his daughter, and the other was from his son, and his spirits were lifted after he read them. Jesse hated the morning traffic, yet it was the price one had to pay for living in DC. He pulled into the parking lot at Langley a few minutes early despite the gauntlet and several jackass drivers he had to endure getting there. Jesse checked in and was escorted to the same room as their previous meeting. Upon entering the room, he immediately knew something must have changed dramatically. The room was filled with Washington power players. No one was seated yet. At one time or another, he had met every man in the room except of the AG. He was greeted warmly by the CIA director. Getting no indication of what was happening; he approached Joseph Martinez and asked, ¡°Were you able to recover anything from the film?¡± ¡°As a matter of fact, our technician did, but I¡¯ll let Director Clayson go over that in just a minute.¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Is that why all these men are here today?¡± Martinez didn¡¯t answer; he just nodded. Jesse was frustrated when he got nothing more from Martinez. Although there was nothing he could do except wait. He had already waited this long; another few minutes wouldn¡¯t matter. He then made the rounds with all the power players in the room before the meeting started. ***** Like their last meeting, no staff aids were present, and after everyone had arrived and the greetings were over, Clayson asked everyone to take their designated seats. When everyone was seated, the meeting started. In front of every man was a folder that contained the usual warnings. ¡°Good morning, gentleman. First, I want to thank all of you for coming on such notice. I know you all have busy schedules, but I wouldn¡¯t have asked you here today unless it was extremely important.¡± Clayson then went on to inform the new players about all the events leading up until this point, including the camera and the film that it contained that was found at the Jensen farm. He also read the letter that Peter Jensen wrote just before his death. There were a lot of questions, and most were addressed to Jesse. When no one had any more questions, Clayson moved on to the photos. He flipped open his laptop and entered his password. A few seconds later, the first photo appeared on the large television screen mounted on the wall. The picture was of a much younger President Sydney Williams standing next to Dave Sanders, the CIA station chief, outside of the CIA field office in Xuan Loc. The next photo was just of Sydney standing by a Jeep. In both photos it didn¡¯t appear that she knew that her picture was being taken. The next six photos were of various CIA personal and ARVN troops and their equipment. Clayson asked Jesse to narrate for them and he made short comments on all of them before moving on. Without commenting further, Clayson moved on to the next photo of a man facing the camera. His features were much clearer now, and everyone could make out the three-inch scar that ran along the side of his face despite his weeks¡¯ worth of facial hair that was thick and dark. He appeared to be in his late thirties to mid-forties and as hardened as his Asian companions beside him. Sydney was in the background. ¡°His name is Jack Sullivan. He was a contract employee for the CIA who worked the Golden Triangle as a deep cover operative and one of the many hired mercenaries who fought against the communist group Pathet Lao in Laos. He had ties to Vang Pao, the Hmong leader who was running his opium trade through Thailand, Burma, and Vietnam to fund and fight against communist control of his country. We suspect that he was running drugs for Vang when his Air America C-46 Commando was shot down in the jungles of Cambodia either by the Viet Cong or the Khmer Rouge in January of 75. The wreckage was found not far from the Vietnam border. There was no trace of the eight men or the heroin that was supposedly on board. At the time, we believed that he purposely crashed the plane to throw Vang off of his tail. My guess is that he wanted to go into the drug trafficking business for himself, and he didn¡¯t want to be looking over his shoulder. It was also rumored that Sullivan was selling American and South Vietnamese troop movements to the NVA for drugs. But that was never substantiated and dismissed because he didn¡¯t have access to Intel. Now it looks like he may have had access through Sydney Perotti, and they were in business together, and things went south. We were able to interview a man who knew Sullivan well and to paraphrase his words; ¡°The man was an asshole that cared only about himself and would sell out his own grandmother if there was money in it for him.¡± In the next photo, it appeared that three more men had entered the room, and Sydney and Sullivan now had their backs to the camera. Two men were Military MPs with MP clearly marked on their helmets, and the third was a tall, middle-aged man in Army fatigues. Clayson continued: ¡°Bob Chandler was the man that just entered the room with the MPs. At the time, he was one of the U.S. Senators from Iowa. He was a Marine Major in WW2 and was nicknamed ¡°The Bulldog¡± by those who served under him. Chandler was part of Senator John Pastore¡¯s 1975 Congressional subcommittee that was empowered to investigate federal intelligence operations and determine if any agency of the Federal Government engaged in any illegal or unethical activity. From what I gathered, the Senator had a particular disdain for the CIA.¡± In the next photo, one of the MPs was pointing at Sullivan with one hand, and the other was on the butt of his M1911 Colt service pistol that was still in its holster. The other MP had a club in his hand. Sydney appeared to have moved to the side, but all eyes stayed on Sullivan. The following two photos were blurry. It was as if the person taking the photos could not hold the camera steady because of what had transpired. The last photo showed both the MP¡¯s on the floor and Sydney pointing her pistol at the Senator, who had his hands up in an attempt to stop her from shooting. No one said a word until Martinez spoke. ¡°As I recall, Senator Chandler was reportedly killed in an NVA ambush along with all of his staff between Saigon and Xuan Loc.¡± ¡°I did some digging, and that is true. Apparently, Chandler had no military escort when the attack happened, and that raised a lot of questions at the time.¡± Clayson stated. ¡°I also looked into the MPs stationed at Xuan Loc at the time, and there were two that went MIA and never accounted for.¡± After this statement, silence filled the room. Jesse hung his head. He didn¡¯t know what to say. He had no idea that Sydney was capable of what he just witnessed. Or, for that matter, drug trafficking, or worse, treason. The photos and Jensen¡¯s letter had just sealed her fate. After a long moment of silence, Martnez asked. ¡°Is there any evidence that the President and Sullivan knew each other before this incident?¡± Clayson responded. ¡°Our records show they knew each other for quite some time before he disappeared.¡± ¡°Then she could have been feeding Sullivan troop movements,¡± Martinez stated. ¡°That certainly is a possibility. We looked into NVA troop movements not long after Sullivan disappeared, and there is some evidence that they seem to mirror the U.S. troop movements, although that is not conclusive evidence. Spies were on both sides during the entire war, and troop movements were highly guarded. But we know there were leaks¡­especially on our side.¡± Jesse posed a question to no one in particular. ¡°Why would President Williams get involved in the drug trade? Her family was wealthy, and she certainly didn¡¯t need the money.¡± ¡°That was true at one time, Major. She was a child of privilege. Her father had powerful friends in Washington and was a power player on Wall Street, but he was financially ruined on a margin call in 73 that he didn¡¯t see coming. He never regained his wealth. Once she was accustomed to wealth, I assumed it was hard to give up that lifestyle. When she was nominated for the VP position, her financial statement stated that her net worth was over 450 million. We know that less than half of that was from her former husband. Her father set up a trust for her, which wasn¡¯t substantial. The bulk of her money came from her overseas business dealing that she did not have to declare in the U.S.,¡± Clayson answered. Everyone was silent until Jackson asked. ¡°With this evidence, is there any way that she can be prosecuted for the murders?¡± although he already suspected the answer. The AG cleared his throat before answering. ¡°First, I will talk about the crimes committed in Vietnam. Although the statute of limitations doesn¡¯t apply to murder, she can¡¯t be prosecuted in the U.S. for crimes that were committed on foreign soil unless it was on a military base or at a U.S. embassy, and we simply don¡¯t know where these photos were taken. Besides, the crime was committed in a county that technically no longer exists. As for the matter of drug trafficking and treason, I think that¡¯s out also; there are no witnesses alive to testify against her. Even with Jensen¡¯s letter and the photos, that is not enough without a live witness to testify because we don¡¯t have definite proof that she pulled the trigger and killed the two MPs. The photos obviously suggest that is what transpired, but there is no definite proof. Now, as for the crimes the President may have been involved in here or an accomplice to, namely the killing of Mary Jensen and the attempted murder of General Bennett and David Choi. As you know, a sitting president can¡¯t be put on trial while in office. It would be up to Congress to impeach her under Article 1, Section 2 of the U.S. Constitution. But as you also know¡­ that is not going to happen. In my opinion, we simply can¡¯t put the American public through that after what happened in Connecticut, even if she was involved. It would destroy this country and the confidence in its leaders.¡± When the AG finished, he looked at all the long faces and waited. Director Clayson was the first to speak. ¡°From what we¡¯ve been able to ascertain, I believe that President Williams was helped into power by someone or some powerful group yet to be identified. There are many powerful groups and nations that want to influence our elections and policies¡­especially the globalists who hate our financial dominance and geopolitical influence. It is not Russia or China who certainly have tried to influence our elections for a long time. I think North Korea is also out. When Rakov assassinated the U.S. diplomat in Germany, he was doing that at the behest of a Russian Olagart with no ties to Putin or the Kremlin. They would not have used the people involved in the attacks in Phuket and on General Bennett. These people were just low-level hired mercenaries. That leads me to believe that it is a small grope of men or organization, a person or group with a great deal of money and political influence.¡± Jesse finally spoke, ¡°I still find it hard to believe that President Williams was capable of what I saw in those photos. But, unfortunately, I was wrong. And if she was capable of this, she may be capable of things far worse. She worked for the CIA in the Middle East for years after Vietnam. She could have been trafficking drugs or doing something else that someone was using against her, such as blackmail. Like these photos, someone may have something similar on her that could put her in a foreign prison for a long time. I simply don¡¯t see her as being complicit in President Robert¡¯s assassination without someone holding something over her head. At least¡­I want to believe that.¡± Jesse was looking at Clayson when he said this. He nodded and said, ¡°That could very well be true. In fact, it¡¯s something that I considered myself. Before this meeting, I ordered a discreet investigation into her record, from her training at the Farm until she left the agency. Like you, Major, I hope that she was not involved in the assassination, but at this point, I have to believe she was. Ether willingly or unwillingly, it simply doesn¡¯t matter at this point. She may not have placed the bomb that killed the president, but if she knew it was going to happen, she¡¯s just as guilty. Now, this brings me to the next point. I would like you all to look at the report by the senior FBI investigator assigned to the bombing in Mystic, Connecticut. Congressman Becket was a very private person when it came to his personal life. According to friends and family members, no one knew of his terminal illness until the last stages of his cancer. It is his contention, and the evidence at the crime scene backs this up, that whoever was behind this had prior knowledge of Congressman Becket¡¯s illness. They used it to their advantage to plant the bomb that took so many lives, including that of President Roberts. When the investigators discovered that the bomb had been planted at least several months prior to the actual detonation, they started to look for anyone with prior knowledge of his illness. I¡¯m not going to go into specifics, but they did find one person, other than his immediate family, who had this prior knowledge. That person is the current President, Sydney Williams. They learned that Mrs. Becket hired a cleaning lady after learning of her husband¡¯s illness to help her and her husband with the household chores. This cleaning woman, whom Mrs. Becket instructed to stay out of sight when they had visitors, overheard Congressman Becket inform a woman of his terminal cancer not long after she was hired and long before his death. At the time, the cleaning lady had no idea who the woman was. She is an undocumented worker, and she asked no questions. It wasn¡¯t until Williams was nominated to run on the ticket with President Roberts that she realized who she was.¡± ¡°Was she questioned about this?¡± The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff asked. ¡°At the time, the FBI questioned everyone who knew Mr. Becket well. Sydney¡¯s father was one of Becket¡¯s oldest and dearest friends, and Congressman Becket apparently followed Sydney¡¯s career very closely. He also had a big hand in her nomination as Secretary of State. So, to answer your question, yes, she was interviewed, but at the time, she claimed that she had no prior knowledge of his illness. We have not questioned her since we obtained the information from the cleaning lady.¡± "That in itself proves nothing. And if that is the only thing that links her to the bombing, in my humble opinion, it''s thin at best." Jesse said. "You''re absolutely right, Major, it is thin. If it comes down to the word of the president of the United States and that of a Mexican National who''s in this country illegally¡­.well, you get my point. But it is a smoking gun. Coupled with the fact that a group of hired killers has tried to eliminate anyone who was connected to Jensen''s letter, it leads me to believe that she''s involved. Now, there''s only one thing left to do. And that is to discover who''s behind this. We are currently putting pressure on every mercenary contractor in the world. They guard their assets like Swiss banks, but I am positive we will find out who hired the four former MI6 operatives and Ivan Rakov very soon." Clayson answered. The phone in front of Clayson buzzed, and he picked up the receiver. He listened for a moment, asked a few questions, said, ¡°Do it,¡± and then hung up. He looked at all the men who fixed their eyes on him and said, ¡°Gentleman, that was perfect timing. It seems that we have a name.¡± Chapter 77 Chapter 77 Ivan sat in his cell and tried to think of a way out of his situation. He had no intention of spending the rest of his life behind bars. Unfortunately, he was on his own. He knew his employer had connections worldwide but not in this country. His employer probably had no idea where he was or what happened in Phuket because the counterattack came so quickly. He was on his own. The interrogation techniques used by the Israelis weren¡¯t as bad as he was led to believe. And the CIA interrogators were just a bunch of pussies. It was hard telling them to go ¡°fuck themselves¡± because his jaw was wired shut, but they understood the universal sign language. What he had a hard time figuring out was their line of questioning. He was wanted for murder in half a dozen countries, yet they didn¡¯t seem concerned with that, nor did they bring it up. No matter how they phrased or rephrased it, they wanted to know who hired him for the jobs in Phuket and Prague. Who hired you? Was it the same employer? How were you paid? How long have you worked for them? How did they contact you? The questions went on and on. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He had never met whoever it was behind the money. He was hired by Smith over a year ago, but Smith took his orders from someone much higher up the food chain. They were cautious about that. But on a night of heavy drinking, Smith let it slip who he was taking orders from. Now, he had a bargaining chip, and he intended to use it as a get-out-of-jail-free card. Chapter 78 Chapter 78 Gaza City, The Gaze Strip Ameen Hussein woke suddenly. He was breathing heavily, and his face was covered in a cold sweat. He had been dreaming. It was the same terrifying dream that had drifted into his subconscious after all the failed missions. The disappearance of Smith and all his men troubled him the most. But tonight, the dream was more terrifying than usual. It seemed so real. He was being chased by men dressed in black from head to toe. They always caught up to him and pulled him to the ground. When he turned to look at them, all he could see were their eyes. Their faces were completely black. He immediately reached under his pillow and felt the reassuring feel of the pearl-handled 9mm that never left his side. Ameen sat up and looked around the room. Everything was as it should be. He looked at the digital clock that glowed next to his bed. It was 2:05 AM. He felt like calling out to his bodyguard just outside his door, but he immediately felt foolish and thought otherwise. In his culture, cowards and sissies were not looked upon kindly. However, after Smith went missing, he doubled his security team. He was taking no chances. ***** Ameen was the great-grandson of Haj Mohammed Effendi Amin el-Hussein, The grand Mufti of Jerusalem, who had collaborated with the Nazis during WW2 to annihilate the Jews. Ameen was a true believer, and like his great grandfather, he had a deep hatred for the Jews and the Crusaders. He longed to see the world dominated by the true religion under a worldwide Caliphate. Ameen knew he would never see this occur in his lifetime, yet he hoped that all his hard work would pay off someday. The world would once again return to the glory days of the Ottoman Empire, and Islam would flourish again. Then, the Jews and infidels would once again be subjugated by the true believers. They would be forced to convert to the true and beautiful religion or be killed, leaving only the righteous to rule the world. Ameen always wept when he envisioned that glorious day and wept at the realities of the present, where the descendants of apes and pigs mistreated his brothers. There was a time when he thought that they could take back the land that the Jews and Crusaders had stolen, but that¡¯s when he was young and foolish. But now, as he grew old, he had to deal with the harsh realities. There would never be enough rockets fired at the Jews to drive them from the land. ***** Throwing back the light sheet that covered his slender body, Ameen sat on the edge of his bed and looked around the small room again. He was alone. He placed the pistol back under his pillow and walked to his bathroom, just a few feet away. After he relieved himself, he washed his hands and was about to splash water on his face when he heard a sound coming from his bedroom. It was ever so slight, but it made him freeze as the water slowly seeped through his fingers and into the sink. He quickly reached for a towel, dried his hands, and stood at the bathroom doorway. For several minutes, he listened intently without moving. Ameen¡¯s bedroom was on the top floor of a three-story building. One of the windows was slightly open, and a sheer curtain lazily fluttered in a cool breeze coming off the Mediterranean. Nothing was out of the ordinary, yet he sensed something was wrong. Then he heard the sound again. It was ever so subtle, but he was sure this time. He didn¡¯t know what it was but was convinced he wasn¡¯t alone. His only hope was to get to his pistol. He looked at the distance to his bed. It was so short, yet he knew he had to cover the ground quickly. Ameen broke from the doorway and dove for his gun. His hand was only inches from his automatic when he was struck from behind and driven into the mattress. Ameen turned to look at his attacker, and all he could see were his eyes glowing like coals in the darkness. His face was completely black. Soon, he was joined by two other men with glowing eyes and black faces. Both of these men grabbed his arms, and he felt a needle prick his upper arm. Ameen felt himself drifting away and yelled out for his bodyguards, but his cries for help fell on deaf ears. All of his men were dead. ***** Ameen awoke and found himself tied to a wooden chair. He couldn¡¯t move his arms or legs, and when he tried to move the chair, it didn¡¯t budge. It was bolted to the concrete floor. A dark hood had been placed over his head. He was naked, hungry, and thirsty. He also had a killer headache. Even with the hood covering his head, he knew that the room was dark because no light came through the cloth hood. He knew that they would be listening. What he didn¡¯t know was that an infrared camera was also watching him. Just when he thought that it couldn¡¯t get worse, it did. He heard the sound of machinery running, and a blast of cold air flowed over his body. He cursed the unseen men and called them every degrading name that he could think of. After a half hour, he gave up and shivered uncontrollably. He knew what these men wanted, but he would not give in. He would die first. The cause was too great. The Israelis had never broken him before, and they would not do it this time. Unfortunately for Ameen, he was wrong. ***** The meeting consisted of just two men. Jesse sat quietly in a comfortable leather chair while Director Clayson stood at his window and looked out at nothing in particular. He had just concluded a meeting with key government officials to discuss the information that was obtained from Ameen Hussein. They now had a delicate situation to deal with in Saudi Arabia. Not everyone agreed with the proper course of action, but they eventually reached the same consensus. Clayson finally turned slowly and looked at Jesse. ¡°Major, I felt it was my obligation to keep you in the loop since you¡¯re so deeply involved in this from the beginning, and quite frankly, we wouldn¡¯t have the information we have today if it wasn¡¯t for your insight.¡± Clayson paused and waited for a response but received just a nod from Jesse, who waited for him to continue. ¡°There have been many wars waged throughout history, and most have changed the course of the world. But in my viewpoint, the greatest one is a little-known battle waged over the city of Vienna in 1683. It was fought between the Holy Roman Empire and the Ottoman Turks. The Turks were defeated, and it marked the historic end of their expansion into Europe. It was a major turning point for the Ottoman Empire and a major blow to the expansion of Islam. Now, just over three hundred years later, Europe is no longer fighting with Islam; it is welcoming it with open arms through immigration. I¡¯m afraid to admit that I didn¡¯t know much about Islam before 911. But after the attack, I read volumes. I remember reading a report a few months ago that contained a speech given by Muammar Gaddafi on Al Jazeera radio. Many people in this government thought it to be the rambling of a madman, but I paid a great deal of attention to it. Clayson picked up a sheet of paper off his desk and started to read, ¡°Islam will take over Europe without violent force within a few decades. We have 50 million Muslims in Europe. There are signs that Allah will grant Islam a great victory in Europe without swords, without guns, without conquests. The 50 million Muslims of Europe will turn it into a Muslim continent within a few decades.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. The Director slowly placed the paper back down on his desk. ¡°Major, the world is changing very rapidly, and I¡¯m sad to say that his predictions are coming true. Through immigration and conversion, Islam is expanding in every European country at an alarming rate. In most of these countries, the birth rates for Muslins are more than triple that of their host countries. In the United Kingdom alone, Islam has grown ten times faster than the non-Muslim population. It isn¡¯t hard to see the handwriting on the wall. Europe will cease to exist as we know it in thirty to fifty years. You and I will probably be long dead, but our grandchildren will live in a completely different world.¡± Jesse listened patiently without saying a word because he knew that everything he said was true, and he didn¡¯t even mention the changes that were taking place in the U.S. Now; he wondered where all of this was leading. ¡°Thanks for bearing with me. Now, I¡¯ll get to the point. The people behind all these attacks are Muslim extremists.¡± Jesse sat up a little straighter when he heard this. He had no idea it had anything to do with radical Islam. Clayson continued, ¡°But they are not your average suicide bombers that inflict temporary pain on their enemies or not the fanatics that threaten global annihilation by means of nuclear war. These people have a vision, a vision of worldwide dominance under an Islamic caliphate, but not the same vision as ISIS, which wants to kill every nonbeliever and even the believers who don¡¯t interpret the Koran as they do. To do this, they not only have to take over a country by numbers but also need influence and power, which takes money. Money derived from oil. The main person behind this didn¡¯t want any interruption, interference, or even shared revenues from any other source. He planned to place key people in government worldwide as the means to his end. Because of President Roberts¡¯s alternative energy policies, this man viewed him as a genuine threat to his ultimate goal. Because of this, he had to be eliminated.¡± ¡°That may explain a few things, but I find it hard to believe that Sydney would be a willing participant in this. And I¡¯m damn sure that she hasn¡¯t converted to Islam or is even a Muslim sympathizer.¡± Jesse answered. Clayson had a slight smile after that remark, but that quickly vanished when he said; ¡°The Palestinian the Mossad captured and interrogated knew nothing about her involvement in the plot to assassinate President Roberts. His orders were to hire a team to prevent an encrypted document from reaching certain hands and to eliminate any person who knew of this document. This man also hired Ivan Rakov for muscle and another man who was a computer expert to spy on Dr. Chakinski and steal his research in Prague. This man also hired other men to do the same thing in many other countries around the globe. All of it related to alternative energy research.¡± Clayson stopped and took a sip of water. ¡°Did this Palestinian give them a name?¡± Jesse asked. ¡°Yes, he did¡­.he is a high-ranking Saudi National.¡± Clayson paused to let it sink in. Jesse raised his eyebrows, leaned forward, and said softly, ¡°The Saudis are involved in this?¡± ¡°No, as far as we know, only one man is involved. But he¡¯s untouchable¡­at least for now.¡± ¡°So what you¡¯re telling me is that you don¡¯t have proof of Sydney¡¯s involvement in any of this. And the only man that can implicate her is untouchable. Is that about it?¡± ¡°Yes, that¡¯s about it,¡± Clayson answered. ¡°Ok, who is this man?¡± Clayson shook his head. ¡°You know I can¡¯t answer that.¡± ¡°Well, it was worth a shot.¡± After a moment of silence, Clayson said, ¡°There¡¯s another reason I asked you here today.¡± ¡°And what is that, sir?¡± ¡°General Bennett discreetly told me about your past relationship with President Williams. That has not gone beyond this room, and it never will. What I am proposing is something that you¡¯ll need to think about. You¡¯re on a very short list of people who know anything about her involvement in this matter, and I want to keep it that way. The country is still recovering from the assassination of President Roberts, and I don¡¯t believe I have to tell you about the ramifications to this country if any of this was to get out. President Williams left this morning on a nine-day economic trade summit to Southeast Asia that President Roberts had set up months ago. After that, she¡¯ll travel to the Middle East to visit Saudi Arabia, The United Arab Emirates, and finally, Israel. I would like you to travel to Singapore and catch up with her before she leaves for the Middle East. Because of your history together, she might listen to you.¡± "And just what would you like me to say to her?" Jesse said quietly. Clayson leaned forward and handed him a flash drive. "I would like you to give her this. It''s Jensen''s letter and the photos that you found in Minnesota. It''s uncopiable, encrypted, password protected, and will self-destruct 10 minutes after opening." "And then what? Any errand boy can deliver this." "I don''t want any more people involved in this than what is absolutely necessary." "And what about her involvement with this Saudi¡­is that on the flash drive?" "No¡­but I''ll get to that in a minute. After she views the drive''s contents, I would like you to ask her to resign. She can use any reason that suits her. But I want her resignation within the next week, and I want her to confirm this before you leave your meeting with her." "And if she tells me to go and fornicate with myself?" Director Clayson seemed unamused by his choice of words. ¡°Then I want you to tell her that we have evidence that she¡¯s involved in a conspiracy against the United States, nothing more. She¡¯ll know it¡¯s a veiled threat, and we don¡¯t have the proof, but the threat to her will be real.¡± ¡°You know she will ask me who¡¯s leading this.¡± ¡°I suspect that she will.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°Tell her nothing.¡± ¡°Okay¡­and if she still refuses to resign?¡± ¡°Then we¡¯ll deal with her in another way. But either way, she will not stay in office.¡± ***** When the meeting ended and Jesse left the room, Clayson returned to his desk and removed a clean cell phone from his briefcase. He punched in the number and waited for the man on the other end to answer. He did on the second ring and said nothing. He was waiting for Clayson to speak. ¡°I may need some assets in Singapore for a very delicate job.¡± The man on the other end waited for the voice recognition equipment to verify Clayson¡¯s voice. When it was confirmed, the man said calmly, ¡°How soon do you need them?¡± Chapter 79 Chapter 79 Singapore Jesse looked out the starboard window of the Gulfstream C-137A as the private jet approached the island nation of Singapore. It was just approaching midnight, and Jesse marveled at the endless number of lighted cargo ships that dotted the warm waters of the Singapore Strait, waiting for their turn at one of the busiest shipping ports in the world. Thirty-six hours after his meeting with Clayson broke up; the private jet carrying the single passenger touched down on the runway of Singapore¡¯s Changi Airport and taxied to a private hangar where a familiar face greeted him. After an immigration official checked Jesse¡¯s credentials, the two men shook hands and went to a waiting Mercedes Benz limousine. ¡°I see you must have gotten your new official passport?¡± Jesse asked. Shawn nodded, ¡°Yes, I did. A man from the U.S. Embassy in Bangkok handed it to me personally when Chuah and I arrived at the airport a few hours ago.¡± ¡°Speaking of Chuah, how is the bodyguard thing working out with you two?¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s a waste of taxpayer¡¯s money to have three men guarding my home 24 hours a day, but Kim seems to like it, so I guess that¡¯s all that matters.¡± ¡°Well, after that evening of unwanted guests, I can¡¯t say as I blame her.¡± ¡°So, can you tell me why I¡¯m here? You didn¡¯t give me any explanation over the phone.¡± Jesse didn¡¯t tell him that it was his idea and that he invited him without Director Clayson¡¯s knowledge. However, he suspected that he already knew it. ¡°We¡¯re here to talk with Sydney.¡± ¡°She¡¯s here in Singapore?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you ever read the newspapers¡­oh, never mind. Yes, she¡¯s here for a trade summit.¡± ¡°Great, a Vietnam reunion of old friends; this ought to be fun. Do you think she will serve drinks?¡± ¡°Fun was not the term I was thinking of, and I seriously doubt that drinks will be served.¡± ¡°So you still haven¡¯t told me if you were able to unlock the meaning in all those letters and numbers that a lot of people wanted to kill me over? Apparently, someone in the government did, or we wouldn¡¯t be here today.¡± Jesse nodded his head. He explained how the FBI lab was able to pull the text of Jensen¡¯s letter for the CIA travel envelope. He told him about Nils and the bomb shelter and how he purchased Jensen¡¯s camera with the film still inside where the camera had rested in a hidden compartment at the bottom of Jensen¡¯s foot locker since 1975. He told him how the FBI lab had developed the film and that; indeed, the pictures were taken in Vietnam just before his death. However, he didn¡¯t go into the details of the photos, only that they corroborated Jensen¡¯s letter. Jesse purposely left out the events of Mary Jensen¡¯s death. He didn¡¯t want to heap any more guilt on Shawn than he already had. When Jesse was finished, Shawn asked, ¡°So you¡¯re not going to tell me shit, are you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Shawn, but I can¡¯t at this time. I know you¡¯re not going to like this, but it¡¯s a National Security issue, and I¡¯ve been sworn to secrecy. Hopefully, someday, I can. I wasn¡¯t even supposed to tell you about the film.¡± Shawn wasn¡¯t happy, ¡°That¡¯s bullshit, man. Your fucking government wouldn¡¯t have jack shit on that bitch if it weren¡¯t for me. I bled for my country. I still have shrapnel in my body from that godforsaken war to prove it. And you know it. I was beaten and shot at by mercenaries hired by that bitch. Tim and David Choi were shot. General Bennett was almost killed. And don¡¯t forget what that big ugly Russian prick wanted to do to Kim. I wanted to do the right thing after what I saw in Mystic, Connecticut, and this is the thanks I get. You can¡¯t even tell me what was in that letter?¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. After a long pause, Jesse said, ¡°I agree with everything you said, Shawn. You do have the right to know what was in that letter, and I pleaded with those involved to let me inform you. But it fell on deft ears. There is a very short list of people in the government who have this information, and because of the nature of this information and where it will lead; they want to keep it that way. I have to respect their wishes. At least until all this is over.¡± Shawn gave Jesse a hard stair and finally said with a sigh, "Well, I have to respect your integrity. You''ve always been a fuckin Boy Scout." Jesse turned to look at Shawn, who was now busy looking through the compartments in the limo. "What the hell are you looking for?" "Just what kind of cheap ass limo is this? I can''t find a fucking drop of liquor anywhere?" Jesse put his head down. The man would never change. And for that, Jesse was happy. ***** As the limo traveled to their hotel, the conversation was mainly about Sydney and all the attacks that took place in the U.S. Then Shawn abruptly changed subjects. ¡°Besides my passport, the man from the Embassy also handed me a letter from the General Attorney¡¯s office in Florida,¡± Shawn said casually. ¡°Yes, I was informed that you would receive one.¡± After a short silence, Shawn said. ¡°I never told you about¡­well, the incident with my step-father after I got out of the army. So I just want to thank you for¡­you know¡­getting the charges dropped against me for his death.¡± ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t have very much to do with it, but I did suggest it to the FBI director. After reading the report, he concluded that the charges were personally motivated by the prosecuting attorney and didn¡¯t have any merit. From what I was told, it didn¡¯t take much to get the charges dropped by the Florida DA.¡± ¡°That¡¯s been a cloud that¡¯s been hanging over my head for a very long time. I feared someone from the U.S. would come into my club someday and recognize me. I would be arrested, and I would lose everything that I worked so hard for.¡± ¡°Now, you don¡¯t have to worry about that anymore. I read the police report and it sounds like it was self-defense.¡± ¡°When I found him, I had every intention of killing the asshole, but the bastard pulled a gun on me. So I guess in a way¡­ you could say that it was self-defense.¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s all behind you now, and you can travel to the U.S. without a problem. Besides, you promised me that we would have a drink together in the copula overlooking Lake Chautauqua, and I¡¯m going to hold you to that promise.¡± Shawn looked at Jesse, slightly surprised, ¡°Your mother still owns that old Victorian house?¡± ¡°Yes, she does¡­well, actually, I own it, but it¡¯s still in the family.¡± ¡°Well then, I guess I¡¯ll just have to keep my promise.¡± Jesse grinned, ¡°I was hoping you would say that.¡± ***** The limousine transporting Jesse and Shawn pulled up to The Shangri La Hotel fifteen minutes later. After several security checks, they entered the massive lobby of the exclusive five-star hotel tower wing. All the heads of state and their staff attending the business conference were isolated in the hotel''s posh and elegant valley wing, where President Williams was offered the 4000 sq. ft. Shangri La Suite. Jesse¡¯s accommodations in the garden wing were not quite as luxurious, yet quite charming. Shawn got a connecting room, and after settling in, he joined Jesse for a drink on his balcony that overlooked one of the cleanest and safest cities in the world. Shawn took the chair next to Jesse, and they looked out into the beautiful night skyline of the gorgeous city. ¡°So, are you a bit apprehensive about seeing Sydney tomorrow?¡± Shawn asked. ¡°Somewhat¡­over the years, I¡¯ve seen countless photos of her as The Secretary of State, Vice President, and now, of course. I¡¯ve always wanted to see her again, but I thought she was always way out of my league¡­ until¡­until I saw those photos. Now, I have to agree with you that she¡¯s more than just a little scary.¡± After two more drinks, Jesse asked Shawn if he wanted to take a walk. He wanted to pass a note to one of Sydney¡¯s secret service agents stating that he wanted to meet with the President the next day. Shawn yawned and said, ¡°No, you go ahead. I¡¯m going to bed¡­I think the jet lag has finally caught up to me.¡± Jesse shot Shawn a look, ¡°You didn¡¯t even change time zones, you asshole. What is it¡­a two-hour flight?¡± "Well, you travel more than I do." Shawn chuckled. Jesse grunted and ambled over to the door. "Well, sleep tight then¡­and by the way¡­ I hope you choke on the rest of your fucking drink." After Jesse was out the door, Shawn held up his glass and said quietly, "Here''s to you, bro. You''re a good man, and I''m glad that God heard this poor sinners'' prayer all those years ago." Chapter 80 Chapter 80 Sydney looked at the note in her hand and read it over again. After informing her of the e-mail Tim Choi sent to his grandson in LA, she tried to locate Jesse through some of the discrete sources that wouldn¡¯t lead back to her. But all of her resources proved to be dead ends. In his line of work, it wasn¡¯t wise for anyone to find him easily, even if it was the president of the United States. Now, the man she once had a burning desire for was in a country that wasn¡¯t far from where they were lovers. Sydney put the note in her pocket and walked out onto her balcony. The daytime temperatures had cooled, and the evening air was very pleasant. She tried not to think of Jesse, yet all her efforts failed. She knew why he was here, which bothered her initially, but that soon passed because her mind drifted back to the days they had spent together. She wondered if he was still so handsome. After several minutes, she walked into the living area, instructed the secret service agent who had handed her the note to find Jesse, and asked him to meet with her at 1:00 P.M. the following day. The trade conference was wrapping up the next morning, and she was scheduled for a golf outing on Sentosa Island in the afternoon with several important leaders from China, South Korea, and Japan. It would give her enough time to meet with the man she knew was sent to destroy her. ***** At 12:45, Jesse and Shawn meet with Sydney''s secret service detail leader, Tim Slater, in the lobby of the valley wing of the hotel. Slater was instructed to escort Jesse to the President''s suite, but when he arrived with Shawn, stating that he was his aide, the man refused to take Shawn up. After looking at the tattoos on his forearms, Slater thought he looked more like a contract killer than a personal aid. Jesse asked Tim to call his boss, and a few minutes later, both Jesse and Shawn were cleared to see the President. Slater gave both men a full pat down before they entered the suite. Shawn wore khaki shorts and a light blue, untucked Polo golf shirt with sandals on his feet. His hair and beard were uncombed. Jesse was perfectly dressed in clothes fashioned by Brooks Brothers: Dark blue chino slacks, a white button-down shirt with no tie, and a linen sports jacket. On his feet were tan Ferragamo soft leather loafers without socks. Slater was surprised at both men''s firm, hard bodies despite their graying hairlines. Slater perceived the two men as an obvious threat to the President, and he was taking no chances. Much to Shawn''s amusement, Slater radioed for additional men to stand guard while they met with the President. Slater spoke into his lip mic and knocked lightly on the door of the Presidential Suite. It was opened by another secret service agent, who, after looking the men over and being given a nod by Slater, allowed them to enter. They were directed to a plush sofa where they were instructed, in a pleasant but firm tone, to sit and wait. One of Sydney¡¯s female staffers approached them and asked if they wanted any refreshments while they waited. Jesse asked for water, and Shawn said, ¡°Do you have any cold Budweiser?¡± ¡°I believe we do, sir. I¡¯ll bring one right away.¡± ¡°Can you bring two?¡± ¡°No problem, sir.¡± Jesse looked at him with a puzzled look and said, ¡°I don¡¯t want one.¡± Shawn said, ¡°Yeah, I know. And you said that drinks wouldn¡¯t be served.¡± The aid soon returned with Jesse¡¯s water, two cold bottles of Bud, a frosted glass, and a tray filled with assorted snacks. Ten minutes later, Sydney walked out of her large bedroom and entered the room where Jesse and Shawn were waiting. Jesse stood immediately at the sight of the gorgeous woman who entered the room while Shawn remained seated with his ankles crossed and one hand on a cold glass of Bud. Sydney barely glanced at Shawn and planted her eyes on the handsome older gentleman standing before her. Sydney wore a simple white cotton blouse and robin egg blue cotton shorts. Her hair was long and silky and pulled back in a simple ponytail. Jesse marveled at how well she looked in person¡ªthe years had been very kind to her. Jesse decided to forgo the usual title given to the most powerful person on the planet and call her by her first name. ¡°Sydney, you look absolutely stunning.¡± ¡°Thank you. Now come over here, mister, and give me a hug.¡± Sydney said as she held out her arms and noticed he wasn¡¯t wearing a wedding ring. Tim Slater, who was standing a few feet away, stared intently at the man who had just greeted the president like an old friend and the man who remained seated without giving her any respect. But what surprised him more was the long embrace she gave Jesse instead of a handshake. A flood of memories passed through Jesse as he felt her body next to his, and he thought he could still smell the intoxicating aroma of jasmine in her wet hair so long ago. Her warm embrace triggered a flood of emotions as if a dagger had been stuck in his heart again. He felt a lump welling up in his throat for what he was about to do, but he restrained himself before they parted. When they did, Sydney placed her hand on the side of his face and said, ¡°You¡¯re even more handsome than I remember. You¡¯ve lost some of your boyish good looks, but you¡¯ve turned into a very handsome man, and you look like you¡¯re still in very good shape,¡± she said as she squeezed his right shoulder. ¡°You must have women chasing you all over town.¡± Jesse put his head down, and much to Sydney¡¯s surprise, his face looked to be pained. ¡°I thought I could do this¡­but after seeing you again¡­ I don¡¯t think I can. Can we talk in private for a moment?¡± ¡°Sure, follow me.¡± Sydney turned and started to walk toward the balcony door, and Slater started to follow. Sydney opened the door for Jesse and held up her hand, stopping Slater in his tracks. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, Tim.¡± Slater nodded and positioned himself just outside the balcony door. He wanted to keep a close eye on the man. Sydney and Jesse sat across from each other on bamboo cushioned chairs with a glass-topped bamboo table between them. "They''re coming after you, Sydney. I was instructed to give you this." Jesse held out his hand with the flash drive in it. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Sydney held her hand and stopped him, "I know they are Jesse...and I''ve been expecting it. I assume they''ve sent you to ask me to resign." Jesse leaned forward, placed the flash drive on the table, and looked at Sydney with a sad expression. "I''m sorry, Sydney¡­they do want you to resign, although I''m afraid that it''s much worse than that. But I can''t be sure." ¡°I see¡­and if I don¡¯t resign?¡± Jesse said sadly, ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know,¡± yet in his heart, he knew what they would do. Jesse held no delusions of what the powers in Washington would do to permanently remove Sydney from office without jeopardizing the American public by displaying her dirty laundry for the entire world to see. Jesse glanced at Shawn through the glass door, and he saw him holding up a beer bottle in one hand and two fingers in the other. He chuckled slightly and turned his attention back to Sydney. ¡°I want to thank you for coming. When I saw your name on that note¡­, my heart raced with excitement. Then I saw that Shawn was with you, and I knew¡­.well, I guess I don¡¯t have to tell you. I assume you still work for the government; I would guess intelligence?¡± Jesse put his head down and then looked back up at her. ¡°Sydney, what are you going to do?¡± ¡°For once in my life, I really don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never told this to anyone in my life before. From an early age, I discovered I was not like other people. My mother was the same way. One day, when I was a little girl, my father asked me if I loved him. I told him that, of course, I did. Then he asked me what love was and I couldn¡¯t answer him. Jesse, the only time in my life that I felt a spark of love was when you and I were together.¡± Jesse nodded but kept silent. He couldn¡¯t speak if he wanted to. ¡°Do you remember telling me about your father?¡± ¡°Of course I do,¡± Jesse said, finding his voice when the subject changed. "Well, I envied you for that. Because you had so much love, compassion, empathy, and all these other emotions that I don''t have¡­and I wished I had them too. I honestly thought that by being with you, I could somehow feed off of yours. And then you were taken away from me." Jesse leaned forward in his chair and waited for her to continue. "I thought that if I could feel that spark of love once, I thought that I could find someone else that would give me that same feeling. But it never happened¡­and I regret to this day for not looking for you." Jesse watched as tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped her eyes with her hand and said, "See what you do to me." Jesse was silent for what seemed like an eternity before he spoke, "I''m sorry, Sydney." "Do you think there''s still a chance for us?" Sydney said longingly. Jesse slowly lowered his head and didn''t reply. After a long moment of silence, she realized his answer. Sydney then asked. "Will you do something for me before you leave?" Jesse looked up and said, "If I can." "Will you kiss me again like you did when we were lovers?" A slight smile ran across his face, and without saying a word, he stood and reached out his arms for her. The two embraced, and Sydney kissed him with a longing she had never experienced before, and Jesse didn¡¯t hold back. Over and over again, their lips met, and their tender kisses were mixed with their tears. As they stood and held each other, it was as if they had turned back the hands of time and were young again. For a brief, fleeting moment, nothing else seemed to matter in the world as they were lost in each other¡¯s arms, and their souls were one again. Finally still holding each other, Sydney whispered in his ear, ¡°Stay with me the rest of the day and make love to me.¡± Jesse averted her eyes and said, ¡°As much as I would like that, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea, Sydney.¡± Jesse then looked into her face, placed both hands softly on her cheeks, and wiped away her tears. ¡°Sydney, we had our moment in the sun, and it was a beautiful thing. We¡¯ll always have the memories of the time we spent together, and no matter what happens, no one can take that from us.¡± Jesse then kissed Sydney one last time lightly on her lips and said. ¡°Goodbye, Sydney. I wish you well.¡± Sydney¡¯s lips quivered, and she said in just about a whisper, ¡°Goodbye, Jesse. I¡¯m so glad that you came instead of someone else. I want to explain-. Jesse cut off her words as he put his hand softly over her mouth. ¡°You don¡¯t have to explain anything to me.¡± Jesse then took his hand away and turned to leave. As he did, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small piece of paper, and placed it under the flash drive. Then we walked through the balcony door and found Shawn smiling at him while Slater looked like he wanted to kill him. ***** Sydney turned and walked over to the balcony''s edge and felt the warm breeze on her face as she looked out at the modern, thriving city. However, her eyes saw none of it. She couldn''t bear to see him leave and walk out of her life again. As cold and hard as she was, the spark had been rekindled in that brief, fleeting moment. When she turned several minutes later, she saw that Jesse had left, and she did something that she rarely, if ever, did. She started to cry. Jesse entered the living area and found Shawn still sitting on the sofa with one empty bottle of Bud on the table and one perched on his lips. When he saw Jesse, he said, ¡°You ready to leave so soon? I was starting to get comfortable. You know I could wait here and bullshit with old Slater there while you and your girl-.¡± Jesse cut him off, ¡°I can do without your sarcasm, Shawn. Now get your ass off of that couch, we¡¯re leaving.¡± ¡°Ooh¡­a little touchy today, are we? Did the little lady strike a nerve?¡± Jesse eyed Shawn, who had a smile on his face that the Cheshire cat would have envied, and without realizing it, his smile had a calming effect, bringing him back to reality. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Shawn, you¡¯re right. I am a little touchy, and you didn¡¯t deserve that.¡± ¡°No problem, bro; women sometimes tend to do that to me, too. Do you want a beer? I can ask Miss Judy to get us two for the road. It¡¯s paid for by good ole Uncle Sam, you know.¡± ¡°No, we¡¯re leaving.¡± ¡°Whatever, man,¡± Shawn said and started to get up. Jesse looked at the beer in his hand and changed his mind. After seeing Sydney again, he needed something to calm him. He wanted something more substantial but decided that the beer would do. ¡°You know¡­ I think I¡¯ll take you up on that beer after all.¡± ¡°Now that¡¯s the spirit,¡± Shawn said as he slapped Jesse firmly on the shoulder. ***** With drinks in hand, Slater escorted the two men to the private elevator, and when the doors opened to the lobby, he was relieved to have them out of his hair. Jesse pointed to a set of chairs next to a cascading waterfall that emptied into a large pool filled with Koi fish and surrounded by lush tropical flora. Shawn waited for Jesse to explain what happened, but after a few minutes of silence, he couldn¡¯t take it anymore and said, ¡°So, how did it go?¡± ¡°Well¡­ not exactly like I planned.¡± ¡°I guess not, but you sure must have an effect on that woman. You should have seen the look on Slater¡¯s face when Sydney gave you that first hug. Then I thought the man was going to have a stroke when you two started making out. Oh, by the way, did you even get a chance to tell the bitch off for trying to have my nuts squeezed in a vice? Or did that slip your mind between all that kissing and foreplay? I thought for a minute¡­well, you know what I mean. I was about to tell old Slater to look the other way.¡± Jesse listened and watched the water flow in the pool, and then he looked at Shawn and said, ¡°You know, sometimes you can be such an asshole.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know, but I¡¯ve been called worse.¡± Jesse held out his beer bottle and said, ¡°Well, how about this one? Thanks for being such a good friend.¡± Shawn sat up, clicked his beer bottle against Jesse¡¯s, and said with a straight face, ¡°Now that hurts. You better knock that shit off, or I¡¯m going to start to cry.¡± Jesse just shook his head and smiled. ***** Unbeknownst to them, a man seated in a dark suit not far from them was watching their every move with more than just mild curiosity. He took out his cell phone, had a brief conversation, and placed it back in his jacket pocket. The man then picked up a newspaper off the table in front of him, unfolded it, and causally held it in front of his eyes. To the casual observer, it would appear that he was reading the newspaper, yet he never took his eyes off the two men seated not far away. Chapter 81 Chapter 81 Sentosa Island, Singapore The two zodiac¡¯s carrying eight men, all wearing night vision goggles and black bodysuits, landed and unloaded their gear under a moonless sky in the dead of night. After the sentries were posted, four men carried a heavy watertight coffin like box made from CPVC the short distance to the perfect spot where it would be buried in the soft ground, awaiting its intended use. The box contained a storage tank that held five gallons of hydrofluoric acid, a pneumatic Teflon pump, PFA hose and spray nozzles, a pressurized air tank, a ball screw cylinder, a scissors lift, four one inch diameter precision ground shafts with matching liners bearings, two small servo motors, a programmable logic controller, its own power supply, and lastly, a very deadly weapon. Within an hour, the box was placed in the pre-arranged position, and the dirt that displaced the box was bagged and taken back to the Zodiac, where it would be dumped in the ocean. After this was completed, the ground around the box was tamped down solid, and the surface was manicured to match perfectly with the rest of the landscape. After completing their work, the eight men boarded their watercraft and headed for a boat waiting for them in the calm waters of the South China Sea. ***** After her brief meeting with Jesse, Sydney informed her assistant that she wanted to cancel her golf outing and stay in for the rest of the day. But after giving it further consideration, she decided that the game and some fresh air might take her mind off Jesse and the apparent problems she was about to face when she returned to Washington. ***** The President¡¯s motorcade was escorted through the blocked-off streets of Singapore by Singapore¡¯s elite police squads, who took extreme measures to protect the U.S. President and all the other dignitaries attending the trade conference. The motorcade passed over the Sentosa Bridge and arrived at The Sentosa Golf Club twenty minutes after leaving her posh hotel. Sydney was greeted by Peter Downie, the General Manager of golf operations, and several other high-ranking staff members. They gave her a short tour of the exclusive golf club hosting the Barclays Singapore Open, which attracts the top golfers from around the world every fall. The golf outing had been planned for weeks, and the foursomes were drawn by lottery. Sydney was slated to ride with Japan¡¯s Industry Minister Yukio Edano, while in the next golf cart was China¡¯s newly appointed Commerce Minister Chen Li and South Korea¡¯s Trade Minister Kim Sung-Hwan. Yukio Edano was a large, powerful man in his mid-50s who was blessed with a perfect golf swing and the experience of knowing how to use it. He was by far the best golfer in the group besides Sydney. The two other men hadn¡¯t played much golf and were just in it for business. At first, Sydney didn¡¯t have her head in the game, but as the play progressed, she found herself in a tight match with Edano, and her competitive nature kicked in and took her out of her funk. All the men spoke excellent English, although Sydney would have had little trouble speaking with each man in their native tongue. Security was tight, and every hole was lined with plain-clothed police and security forces. Sydney''s secret service detail had four men in two carts following at a discrete distance. One cart would advance down the fairway on every hole while the other stayed with the president and scanned every direction for any possible threat. Toward the end of the round, the players reached a large green area on the sea''s edge, surrounded by exotic plants and flowers. Sydney watched with sheer frustration at South Korean Kim Sung-Hwan¡¯s slow play. The man was a hack, yet he insisted on lining up his putts like he was Tiger Woods, looking for the break from every direction only to putt the ball either too short or too long, and then doing it all over again. She couldn¡¯t wait to get the round over with. ***** The sleep was over. The spotter activated the power supply, and the PLC was powered up. He then sent a signal to the small servo motor that drove the ball screw cylinder. The gear ratio was such that it raised the scissors table ever so slowly on the precision ground shafts. Moments later, the water-tight lid seal was broken, and a small amount of dirt and debris fell into the box, but that was fine; the box and everything in it had a one-time use, and there was no need for it to seal on the O-ring gasket again. The lid and the shallow earth on top of it all started to rise, and with it, a veiled curtain was built around the inside perimeter. When the scissors jack reached its maximum height of five inches, a switch was made, and the motor controlling the ball screw stopped turning. It blended in with the surrounding foliage so perfectly that it was almost impossible to detect unless you knew exactly where to look. The spotter activated the zoom lens and worked the two servo motors perfectly, adjusting the windage and elevation until he acquired his target. Now, all he had to do was continue to track the target and wait for the signal. If anyone looked hard, they might see something out of place, but it would take a trained professional to spot it. And if that person did, it might send chills down their spine if you were protecting the most powerful person on the planet. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ***** The Chinese Commerce Minister took the opportunity of the slow play of Sung-Hwan to walk over and talk with the American President. They had only spoken with her a few times during the course of the game. Now, they were alone, and he took the opportunity to talk privately with the President. "You know, I believe we''ve met before," he said in Mandarin Chinese. Sydney eyed the big man with graying hair with a bit of curiosity before she spoke. "Oh really, I have a pretty good memory for faces, but I''m sorry I don''t recollect yours. Where do you think we''ve met before?" "It was a very long time ago, so I didn''t think that you would remember, and although our meeting was very brief, it had lasting memories for me." At that very moment, the Minister''s cell phone buzzed in the pocket of his slacks. "Will you pardon me for just a moment, please?" Sydney nodded and looked back at the man lining up his putt with renewed irritation. She wanted to scream, "Just putt the damn ball, you hack," but she held her tongue. The Minister finished reading his encrypted text message and returned to his conversation with Sydney. "I believe we met in Vietnam." Sydney turned her head swiftly back to look at the man with renewed interest. "Oh really, I''ve never been to Vietnam. I''m sorry, you must be mistaken," but an epiphany came over her as the words just finished leaving her mouth. "Oh, I never forget a face, especially one as beautiful as yours." Sydney smiled, "You are very ingratiating, Mr. Li, but I still believe you have me confused with someone else." ¡°Actually, my name is Chen Li Tang, and no, it was at Xuan Loc in 1975, and I did my research on you. I believe you were working for your government¡¯s CIA at the time.¡± Sydney said nothing in reply this time. She just stared at the man, trying to recall his face. The man started to laugh, yet it was short-lived, and his features turned hard. ¡°I was your prisoner, and you removed one of my testicles because I believe you said that I killed your friend. I spent six weeks in a Hanoi hospital after the fall Xuan Loc because of you. You know it¡¯s rather funny. I had you in my rifle sights that day, but I chose to kill your big male companion leaning against a Jeep instead. It¡¯s a Pity¡­I should have killed you first, although I¡¯m about to rectify that mistake.¡± Sydney let out a short laugh and said, ¡°And just how do you intend to kill me? With you putter?¡± Now, it was Li¡¯s turn to laugh. ¡°No, I plan on killing you with the same type of weapon that I killed you partner with in Vietnam.¡± Sydney looked at all the security around her and turned her attention back to Li. She smiled at Li and said, ¡°Well then, I guess I just should have killed you that day instead of cutting off one of your testicles, Mr. Tang, or Li, or whoever your name is.¡± ***** Tim Slater continued to monitor the area in every direction; however, two areas concerned him the most: the water along the green and the dense foliage on the slight rise just above it. As he scanned the foliage, something caught his eye; a dark area looked a little out of place, and he started to move toward it. ***** Li noticed the secret service agent moving toward the foliage and not waiting for her reply, he lifted his putter on top of his shoulder. The spotter on a shipping crane 1200 yards away picked this up and immediately pressed the red button on his control panel. ***** Slater saw the slight reflection off the glass a bit too late. He tried to get between the threat and the President, but he knew that he was too late when he heard the sound of the suppressed weapon fire. Instantly, he turned to look at Sydney. To his immense relief, she was still standing. His command to get down wasn¡¯t even out of his mouth when he realized in complete horror that he had been mistaken. He watched helplessly as the President looked down at the small hole that was quashing blood out from her chest, and she dropped to her knees. The bullet had hit center mass just to the left of her sternum. It just grazed her left ventricle, but the hydrostatic shock had done its damage. The fatal bullet then ripped between two of her back rib bones before it finally exited her back and into the water behind her. Sydney lingered on her knees for just a few seconds before she finally fell on her side. ***** Slater started screaming commands into his lip mic as he ran to Sydney''s side. He was the first to reach her and was quickly joined by another agent seconds later. He turned her from her side and onto her back. He gently lifted her head and supported it with his arm. Slater tried to talk to her, but he knew the shot was fatal. Her lifeless hazel eyes stared at the blue sky, and Slater noticed that she had an odd look of contentment on her still-beautiful face. Then, looking at his county''s fallen leader lying with a hole in her chest, Tim Slater started to weep. ***** Having completed its intended task, a signal was given to the small motor that operated the ball screw, which lowered the scissors jack almost to its original position, and a blast of compressed air blew away most of the debris from around the lid sealing area before it closed. When that job was completed, a pneumatic diaphragm pump started dispensing the five gallons of hydrofluoric acid onto everything in the CPVC box, ensuring that by the time the investigators dug it out of the ground and opened it up, little, if anything would be left for them to find. Chapter 82 Chapter 82 Within hours of the assassination, the newly appointed Vice President, Randal Iverson, was sworn into office as the next President of the United States. And one week later, President Williams was laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery just across the Potomac River from Washington, DC. Ironically, she wasn¡¯t far from where President Roberts was interred. The nation was in mourning again, and many history pundits started to make comparisons between the two assassinations and the turbulent 60s when JFK, Bobby Kennedy, and Martin Luther King were all gunned down. And just like President Roberts''s assassination, none of the radical Islamic groups took responsibility for the crime. Many condemned the attack and claimed they had no part in it. At President Iverson''s first public press conference, he promised to bring not only President Williams''s killers to justice but also the persons or groups that were behind the assassination of President Roberts. The strange thing was that Wall Street and the rest of the world markets weren''t terribly affected by the tragedy, which baffled the mainstream media and cable network news channels. The markets took an initial hit but recovered within days. The American public also recovered quickly, and life went on as usual as if the assassination of their leader was just part of the global unrest that was spreading across Europe and the Middle East. ***** FBI investigators initially questioned the Chinese Commerce Minister and the other diplomats at the scene that day, and they all fully cooperated. All professed profound shock and outrage over the internationally charged incident, yet none more than Chen Li Tang. All the men turned over their cell phones for inspection except the Chinese Minister, who claimed it contained sensitive state material. The State Department and other prudent members of Congress, not wanting to alienate the country¡¯s top money lender, earnestly suggested that the FBI investigators not press the issue. ***** In the following weeks and months, the FBI investigators were no closer to solving the crime than when they had started. The CPVC box was shipped back to Quantico, where it was given top priority. However, the five gallons of acid in the reservoir had done its job, and they were left with few clues to identify the components, much less their origins. ***** The NSA found their moles, and they disappeared without a trace. ***** Christopher Bell couldn¡¯t get over his loss. Despite their age difference and the abuse that he took from her on a regular basis, he was deeply in love with the woman. He was not asked to stay on in the new administration and quietly slipped into obscurity. After the assassination, he never tried to contact Al Ali for fear that he would be targeted next. Just past midnight, he was sitting in the living room in a plush leather recliner when they came. His rural Virginia home was in a very affluent neighborhood boasting large estates with densely wooded lots and no neighbors. His security system was supposed to be the finest that money could buy, yet it was easily bypassed by the four men who entered his living room without a sound. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Bell was found the following day by his cleaning lady still sitting in his chair. There was no sign of a struggle, and a note was found on the table next to his body explaining his apparent suicide, along with a half-empty bottle of inexpensive whiskey that contained his fingerprints and an empty prescription bottle of OxyContin next to it. ***** Jack Sullivan was tracked down on the outskirts of Mexico City, where he was living in luxury and protected by the largest and most ruthless drug cartel in Mexico. One day, as he was leaving his twenty-acre compound in a heavily armored vehicle, a powerful explosion blasted his limousine into the air over twenty feet. Sullivan and no one else in the car survived. ***** Sheik Mohammed Bin Abdullah Al Ali sat in the mid-morning sun under his favorite spot in his lush garden, enjoying some tea and a Turkish pipe when the procession of cars approached his palatial palace just outside of Riyadh. Within minutes, the crown prince and two of his bodyguards were led to the garden, where they found the large man sitting next to a scantily clad young boy. Upon seeing the prince, the boy fell with his face to the ground. Ali was about to tell the boy to get up when he spotted them. Ali tried to stand, but his great girth made it difficult to do so quickly. Ali bowed and said, "Your Excellency, "As-Salam-u-Alaikum." When he got no similar response, he knew he was doomed. He watched as the prince made a hand jester to the boy, and he scurried off as fast as his bare feet could take him. Then the prince made another hand jester to his guards. They seized Ali by both arms, and he made no sound of protest. The prince then sat on the cushioned bench that Ali and the boy had previously occupied. The prince tipped over a fresh cup and poured himself a cup of tea as he looked at his captive with disgust. After he sipped hot tea, he said, ¡°You have brought great shame on our house.¡± Ali was about to speak, but the prince held up his hand and stopped him. ¡°The United States is our political friend and ally. Now, you have destroyed that trust. You are a fool to think your actions were in our best interests.¡± As he was speaking, another man approached with a stool in his hand. He set the stool down, bowed, and backed away. The prince then nodded to his guards. The prince watched as one tied Ali¡¯s hands behind his back while the other tied his feet. The two men then forced Ali to kneel and placed the low stool before him. Ali knew what would happen next, and he started to beg for his life, but his pleas for mercy were brushed aside. It was over in seconds. Ali was forced forward until his chest hit the stool. And in one swift blow from the very sharp scimitar, Ali¡¯s head was severed from his massive body, and it fell to the ground as blood gushed from the neck of his now headless corpse. Photos were quickly taken and sent with the most profound apologies. Within days, OPEC increased oil production, which lowered gas prices that hadn¡¯t been seen in years, much to the delight of the American public, who was completely unaware of its cause. ***** Jesse returned to Washington after the assassination and briefed Clayson privately on his meeting with the President. It was just a formality. Clayson was now more focused on who killed the President rather than why. After a brief visit with General Bennett and David Choi, Jesse returned to Phuket and had a longer visit with his old friend. Tim Choi had recovered from his head injury and joined the men for food and drinks one night. He was very pleased to learn that his grandson was recovering much quicker than expected and would return to work in less than three months. When it was time to leave, Shawn drove Jesse to the airport, where his private jet was waiting to take him back home. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he grabbed one of Jesse¡¯s bags and carried it to the waiting plane. As Jesse was about to climb the stairs, he put out his hand. Shawn did the same, and soon, the two men embraced like only brothers who have been through hell together could, while Kim watched from a distance in quiet reserve and thought how lucky Shawn was to have a friend like Jesse. Part VI Chapter 83 Part VI Closure Chapter 83 Shawn received a UPS letter at his home two weeks after Jesse left that required his signature. The letter was from an attorney in the U.S. named Fredrick Walker, stating that he was the sole beneficiary of an estate in Virginia. He didn¡¯t elaborate other than to tell him he wanted to travel to Thailand and meet him in person. He was given a number to call or could respond by letter or e-mail. At first, Shawn was skeptical and had Tim Choi look into the attorney and his law office in Virginia. The following day, he told Shawn the law office was legitimate and a well-established law firm with an excellent reputation. Satisfied with the information, Shawn called and set up a meeting with Walker at his home ten days later. The airport limo arrived on time, and the now full-time guard at the reinforced gate looked at Walker¡¯s credentials and phoned the home for instructions. Minutes later, Kasem greeted Walker at the front door and asked to follow him to the kitchen, where the homeowner would meet with him shortly. Kasem offered him coffee, tea, or bottled water, and the man thanked him and said that coffee would be just fine. Shawn entered the kitchen five minutes later wearing a lime-green Tommy Bahama silk shirt with ¡°Life¡¯s a Beach¡± and a Scarlet Macaw embroidered on the back, khaki cargo shorts, a light gold chain around his deeply tanned neck, a Submariner stainless steel Rolex watch on his wrist, nothing on his feet and an untidy head of hair. Walker got up when he entered the room and extended his hand. "Mr. Harris, Fredrick Walker, it''s a pleasure to meet you officially." Walker''s statement went over his head, and he said, "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Walker. I hope you had a pleasant flight." "Yes, I did. It was very long but pleasant." I took a minute for Walker''s opening words to register finally. When they did, he studied the small man a bit closer. Shawn guessed him to be in his mid to late 70''s or possibly older. He was dressed in a very nice dark suit, a simple white long-sleeved shirt, and a nondescript silk tie. His hair, or what was left of it, was completely gray, and his face looked to be very kind despite his profession. "You said officially, have we met before?" "Yes, we have. In fact, a few times over the years, but I''ll get into that in a moment." Shawn had met so many people and seen so many faces from around the world that nothing seemed to register as he studied the man¡¯s face. ¡°I assume you are still wondering why I couldn¡¯t give you more information over the phone, but as I said in my follow-up letter, my client¡¯s instructions were very explicit. He would only allow me to discuss this matter with you in person.¡± ¡°Ok, I¡¯m listening.¡± ¡°As I stated in my letter and during our phone conversation, I am the executor of a large estate in which you are the sole heir. The man that held this estate was my very good friend for far more years than I care to count.¡± Walker took a sip of his coffee and said, ¡°He also happens to be your father.¡± Shawn just stared at the man for a long moment. He slowly ran his big hands through his long hair and then his beard before he replied. ¡°Is this some sort of joke because I don¡¯t think it¡¯s amusing?¡± "I can assure you that this is no joke, Mr. Harris. Your father wanted me to tell you this in person and not by some letter or other means of communication. Your father was three years older than your mother, and he loved her very much. They made plans to marry after your father found out she was pregnant. But HIS father wouldn''t allow it because, as he put it, "she came from the wrong side of the tracks and would ruin his life." He was in his first year of college and you were born, he secretly made plans to marry your mother without his father''s consent, but it was too late. Your mother had already married another man. I met your father in college, and we have remained friends all of our lives. I studied law and your father''s business. Everything your father touched in business turned to gold, while his personal life, especially with women, turned out to be just the opposite. I started a law firm, and your father was my first client. As his wealth grew, so did his problems with women. He was married five times and lived with a few more. He never had any children of his own because he told me he didn''t love them enough to have children. He claimed that the only woman he truly loved was your mother. He instructed me to hire a private detective to find you after you disappeared following your stepfather''s death. Truth be told, you did something that he was contemplating also, but unlike you, he failed to find the man." Shawn stood and said nothing. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulled out a Tiger beer, and cracked open the bottle. ¡°Kasem,¡± Shawn called out. A few seconds later, Kasem entered the kitchen from the living room, where he was watching TV, and looked at Shawn. ¡°Please see to it that our guest is comfortable.¡± ***** While Kasem offered Mr. Walker something to eat and more coffee, Shawn headed out to the balcony to gather his thoughts. Before he did, he asked Walker one question. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Mr. Walker¡­what was his name?¡± ¡°His name was Sean Kelly, the son of Thomas Kelly, the Knox County magistrate.¡± Jesse nodded and said, ¡°I need some time to digest this. Will you give me a moment, please?¡± Walker looked at Shawn and said, ¡°Oh, course, take as much time as you need.¡± Shawn walked out onto the balcony and looked out over the great Andaman Sea expanse without seeing it. As he stood there in the warm breeze, some deeply buried painful memories crept back onto the surface of his mind. His emotions were rocked by anger, fear, hate, love, and sorrow. A single tear ran down his cheek as he tipped his head and held the bottle of beer to his lips. Shawn regained his composure and returned to the kitchen a few minutes later. He grabbed another beer from the refrigerator and sat across from the attorney, taking this all in stride. He acted like he did this all the time. Shawn pointed to Kelly¡¯s coffee cup and said, ¡°Would you like something stronger?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m fine.¡± ¡°How do you know that I¡¯m his son, and how can you give me whatever you prepared to give me without any proof?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get into that in a moment, but first, I want to explain some things.¡± ¡°Very well, please continue.¡± ¡°Well, Mr. Harris ¡ª.¡± ¡°Please call me Shawn. Mr. Harris, it sounds like you¡¯re talking to someone else in the room.¡± ¡°No problem, sir. After your father found out that you had moved to Thailand.¡± ¡°And just how did he discover that may I ask?¡± ¡°As I said, Mr. Kelly requested I hire a private detective. That detective contacted your sister and her husband on their farm just outside Middlesboro, and I offered them a deal.¡± ¡°And that was?¡± "I''m sorry, I''m not at liberty to say. All I can tell you is that they accepted my offer and kept their promise of silence under the contract we signed with them." Shawn wasn''t happy. He also had an agreement with them to keep his location a secret. Just before he traveled to Florida, he asked them to keep his 56 Chevy in their barn until he returned for it. Little did he know that he would be in Thailand for all these years. He paid them for storage until he had them ship the car to Phuket some twenty-odd years ago. "Okay, I''ll let that go for now. Please continue, Mr. Walker." "When your father found out where you were living, he hired a man in Phuket to keep him informed on your condition. Through this man''s eyes, your father watched you build your club from the ground up, and he was extremely proud of you and your accomplishments. Your father and I started to travel to Phuket about fifteen years ago to see you and your club firsthand." Walker reached into his briefcase and handed him several eight x ten color photographs. Shawn looked at the photos and recognized one man instantly. He was looking at himself. ¡°First, let me say that your father wanted to identify himself to you many times. On every flight we took to Phuket, he told me this. But in the end, he never had the courage. It wasn¡¯t that your father was a coward; he was one of the most fearless men I¡¯ve ever met. Nonetheless, I believe the only thing he feared in life was your rejection. He took these photos of you so he could feel close to you and had them framed all over his office.¡± Walker handed the last print to him and said, ¡°This was the photo he had on his desk. It just so happens that I took this photo at your club about eight years ago when a group of tourists were all posing with a picture of you and some of the stage dancers in costume.¡± Shawn looked at the photo and was stunned by the resemblance. The older man in the photo had a big smile, and his right arm was around Shawn¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s a photo of you and your father.¡± Walker watched Shawn¡¯s face as he studied the photo. He could plainly see that the man was tormented, and he was fully prepared for this. ¡°I know this must be very difficult for you, Mr¡­.Shawn, if you need some time¡ª?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m fine¡­.I guess I wasn¡¯t expecting this.¡± ¡°Now you asked about proof of your relationship. Your father didn¡¯t request this; however, I did take the liberty of having a sample of your DNA tested.¡± Shawn¡¯s eyes opened a bit further, and in a slightly raised voice, he said, ¡°And just how the hell did you manage that? And doesn¡¯t that infringe on my privacy just a bit!¡± ¡°Again, I¡¯m not at liberty to answer that. But for now, let¡¯s say the man we hired in Phuket got it from a young lady friend while you were sleeping.¡± Shawn finally found something to laugh about and said, ¡°Oh My God¡­ what is this some sort of conspiracy?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you can see some humor in all this.¡± Walker handed Shawn an official-looking piece of paper and said, ¡°This is the result of that test. You are definitely Mr. Kelly¡¯s son. The DNA match is 99.7 percent positive.¡± Shawn looked at the results on the page, which looked like it would require a team of lawyers to understand, and just nodded his head. Walker took this as a signal to continue, saying, ¡°And now, if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d like to show you a synopsis of your father¡¯s assets and net worth.¡± Shawn was handed the single page that contained a list of his properties, businesses, and partnerships, bank statements, foreign, domestic, and numbered accounts, stocks, bonds, and other holdings, and the last category of just other property. He looked at the numbers behind each one, then at the bottom line, and was shocked. Shawn finally said, ¡°You¡¯ve got to be fucking kidding me.¡± ¡°No, sir, I am absolutely not kidding you,¡± Walker said with a straight poker face. ***** Walker wrapped up his meeting with Shawn and took a cab to meet his next client. He could have merely sent the man his last check; however, he wanted to thank him personally for his years of service to Mr. Kelly. He climbed the stairs, walked down the hall to the office of Choi Investigations, and knocked on the newly installed security door that featured bulletproof glass and an electronic locking system. Choi had also installed a new security system and security cameras. He was taking no chances of someone surprising him again. After Kelly left, Choi opened the sealed envelope and was stunned by the size of the check. In their meeting, he told Kelly he would have done it for free because ¡°Shawn turned out to be one of his dearest friends, and no amount of money could replace that.¡± Choi¡¯s next task would be a pleasure. He logged on to his bank account and transferred a substantial amount into David¡¯s account in LA. ***** After Kelly left, Shawn called Kim and told her he wouldn¡¯t be coming into the club that night, giving her no explanation. He sat at the island bar in the kitchen and studied the man in the photo. He ran his finger over his father¡¯s face until the anger that was building up inside of him had to be released. He stood and picked up the bottle of beer he was drinking and threw it against the kitchen wall, where it disintegrated into a thousand pieces. He screamed at the top of his voice, ¡°I don¡¯t want you¡¯re fucking money, you bastard.¡± With his pent-up emotions released, Shawn fell back into his chair and looked at the picture of his father again. He looked at the man¡¯s arm around him, and the brilliant smile on his face, and a lump started to form in his throat until he finally burst, and the tears began to flow. ¡°I just wanted a real father. Why didn¡¯t you tell me? Shawn said through trembling lips just above a whisper. ¡°And now you¡¯re gone, and I never knew you.¡±