

### The Hermetrius Conspiracy

### A Novel by

### J. D. German

Copyright 2016 by J. D. German
E-Books by J. D. German

Fiction

_The Hermetrius Conspiracy_ – Lynn and Jack Preston Series #1

_The Forsetti Solution_ – Lynn and Jack Preston Series #2

_Revenge, Inc._ – Lynn and Jack Preston Series #3

The Malthus Strategy

Hostile Takeover

Peacekeeper

The Priceless Linen: A Fictional History of Christ's Burial Cloth

Non-Fiction

Christian Principles – Food for Thought

Random Thoughts of an A.D.D. Mind

The above books can be downloaded free from _smashwords . com / profile / view / jdeegerman_ (no spaces). They are available in formats that can be read on a PC, tablet computers, and E-readers.

The Hermetrius Conspiracy

Jackson Preston just retired from the Federal Remediation Agency, a clandestine arm of the U.S. Government that "fixes" problems, after 30 years as an "Adjuster". Without his wife, there didn't seem to be a reason to go to work anymore. So he retired to a lakeside cabin in the mountains of West Virginia to enjoy nature, and heal his emotions. One bright spot was an email from Lynn, a woman he knew in high school, that has turned into an electronic relationship of sorts.

Then he got the letter warning him he was being watched – some unknown entity had him under surveillance. To find out who and why, he went through the records of his old missions and found one file that stood out. What he found in that file led him to a conspiracy to take over the country by controlling the next Presidential election, and turned him into a wanted fugitive.

Lynn and three others joined him as they are chased around the country while working to uncover the details of the conspiracy. Once they realize how deep and sinister the plot is, they create a plan to expose it and send the leaders to jail. But the leaders were ready for that.
**C** **hapter 1**

Jack opened the screen door and walked out onto the covered wooden porch, a cup of strong coffee in his hand, and eased his 6 foot 3 inch frame into the oversized rocker with a murmured groan. All the old injuries made their presence known on a crisp October morning like this, with a mist rising off the lake in the distance. He rocked and sipped for awhile, then his mind went to the e-mail he had received the previous night. It was from someone named Lynn . . . Lynn what? Miller, Moore, Martin – that was it, Lynn Martin. She claimed to have known him back in Coal Creek High School and remembered a hot dog cooker made out of a pine board, a couple of nails and some lamp cord that he had demonstrated to their science class. She said she wanted to make one for her granddaughter but wasn't sure how.

He vaguely remembered making something like that, but couldn't place anyone in the class named Lynn Martin. It was a small community where you got to know everyone in school during the first couple weeks, so he should have remembered her. He wondered if the e-mail was a lie, an attempt to get his credit card number, or even steal his identity. Or maybe it was a disguised come-on from one of those on-line 'dating' services, soliciting him to join and spend his money searching for a new life partner.

That brought his mind to Helen again, his wife of 32 years who had died what . . . was it almost a year already? Maybe that was it. Maybe this Lynn had read about Helen's death and thought he might like some companionship. But how would she know about the hot dog cooker? He needed to decide whether to ignore the e-mail or respond to it. Right now he didn't want to let anyone into his life, on-line or otherwise.

As he sat there, letting his mind drift, his thoughts came back to the job he had retired from six months ago at the Federal Remediation Agency, the FRA. The FRA, or the Agency as those involved called it, was tasked with making problems go away. Problems that couldn't be solved thru legal channels. Their charter included using unconventional means to deal with troublemakers, drug lords, illegal corporate activities, extremists, politicians on the take, and terrorists to name a few.

He had always liked his work, and was very good at it. But with Helen gone, there just didn't seem to be any reason to get up and go to work in the morning. He realized when he retired that he was depressed and not in the right mental state to make such a decision, but he went ahead with it anyway.

After Helen died he sold their house in Falls Church, and bought this cabin in the eastern mountains of West Virginia. It was in good condition, with a large garage and a great view of the lake. No one else lived on the lake so he thought of it as 'his' lake. With the leftover cash from the Falls Church house and the money he had been putting aside to retire comfortably with Helen, he had quite a nest egg that, at his present rate of spending, would last him until he was at least 130 years old. He loved the solitude, but it wasn't good for his mental state. Now, with the help of antidepressants, he was starting to come alive again and missed the excitement of his job. But not enough to give up this peaceful existence, at least not yet. Maybe he should try to get out more, to merge back into a more active life. If he kept this life up, his brain would turn to stone. That brought him back to the e-mail from Lynn Martin. What's the harm in answering it? He could always cut off communications with her if things got suspicious.

He sat at his desk in front of the large screen laptop computer and logged on to the e-mail service. He only had the one message from her. Other than an occasional message from one of his three sons checking to see how he was doing, he seldom got any e-mails. That's what made him wonder about this one from Lynn. If she was who she said she was, how did she find out his email address? Very few people knew it, and he avoided using the internet for purchases to keep it that way. He knew there were places on the Internet where you could find out anyone's email address, but he wondered how accessible these were to the average non-geek. He thought, 'Well, I've got nothing better to do today. Here goes.'

He wrote that he did remember the hot dog cooker demonstration in Mrs. Fisher's 9th grade science class, but he couldn't remember her, and asked how she got his on-line address. He clicked SEND and wondered if he would ever hear back from her.

As he was logging off, his job came to mind and the high-level security clearance it required. He remembered the frequent admonishments from his security officer to always be alert for strangers who try to strike up a friendship with you. Any of them could be working for some undefined agency from some unidentified country that would do anything to get access to what he knew. He always suspected that being paranoid was a prerequisite for security officer positions. Jack realized that, even though he was 'retired' he was required to report this contact from Lynn if it went much further. You were never really retired when it came to the stuff he knew, the things he had done, and the people who hired him to do it.

The next few days went by uneventfully, just like every day now. With no one to talk to his habit of carrying on conversations with himself was getting more frequent. But it helped him wrestle with tough problems. He would question himself, then answer with whatever popped into his head. Sometimes the answer was humorous, although few others would understand the humor; sometimes it was irrelevant to what he was working on; but occasionally it provided an insight that led him deeper into the problem and an ultimate solution. That insight was one reason he had been so good at his job – he had a great store of accumulated knowledge that his unconscious mind seemed to access better than his conscious mind could. When he talked to himself at work, he kept the conversation in his head. He didn't want others to hear him mumbling and think he was loosing it. But now that he was alone, he spoke out loud to himself and enjoyed the added sense of freedom in doing so.

It was starting to rain as he poured his first cup of morning coffee, so instead of going out on the porch, he sat down at his computer to check the news headlines. He scrolled down past the latest political rhetoric, an earthquake in Japan and a blog about how it was caused by global warming, and a 13-year old boy who was a science genius, which made him think of his hot dog cooker, which made him think of Lynn Martin. He had forgotten his answer to her e-mail and hadn't checked for a response. He opened his mail screen and found her reply, sent the day after he had sent his message. That was four days ago and she hadn't sent any "Are you there?" follow-up messages yet. Maybe she wasn't a spy after all.

Her e-mail was brief, but explained that her maiden name was Spence. That rang a bell. Lynn Spence. A snapshot popped into his mind of a green-eyed redhead, standing in front of a classroom window, the sunlight filtering through her shoulder-length wavy red hair. She was smiling at him. That brought back more memories. He remembered being captivated by her back then, but he couldn't remember how well they knew each other. Most likely he had admired her from a distance, with a 14-year-old's fear of making a fool of himself keeping him distant from her. She explained that she found his email address by searching whitepages.com where she got a hit on his son, Jack Junior. She called him and got his father's email address.

Jack would have to talk to his son about that. Well, at least he could place Lynn Spence in his life, so she must be who she said she was.

#

Frank Wright was in the middle of a fantasy daydream when the computer angrily interrupted. As he watched the letters appear on the screen he pulled the headset microphone nearer to his mouth and said "I've got something here. You may want to watch this." Garcia's voice came through the headset. "I've got it. It looks like he's answering her e-mail. Are you recording this?"

An hour later, Wright and Garcia were joined by the rest of the team to review the new communication. "What do you think?" asked Jim Patterson. "Is she for real? No one could make this stuff up. Hot dog cooker from junior high school?"

"I don't know" Wright replied. "It could be some kind of code. We're expecting our unknown subject to try to contact him. Maybe that's who she is."

"Have we been able to find out where she lives yet, Garcia?"

"I've searched online and identified 342 people named Lynn Martin, but none with the name Spence associated with it. It's going to take us a few days to check them all out. We probably should get headquarters to dig into the classified data bases."

Jenkins, the team leader broke in. "Not yet. I don't want to alert them until we know more. We'll see what we can find out about the 342 hits and hope she replies to Preston with more information for us to go on. Has anyone checked out Coal Creek yet? How many of those could there be?"

"I've found eleven in ten states so far" injected Garcia.

"You mean there's a state with two Coal Creeks in it?"

"Yeah, Kentucky has two, both in the eastern end of the state. That's coal mining country. But we'll need more information to narrow down the search"
Chapter 2

Lynn was sound asleep, deep in a dream about a horse she used to have when she lived in Texas. She loved that horse. After her divorce, she gave all her love to that horse. Not that she had wasted much love on her husband before the divorce. He had become distant very early in the marriage, so she had to look for other outlets for her love. She would have been a lonely woman if it wasn't for her three children.

But now, in her dream, Wild One nuzzled her neck and snickered. Lynn gave her the rest of the carrot and patted her cheek. The horse nuzzled her neck again. She had never ridden the horse. The old hands around said it couldn't be ridden because it was "green broke", whatever that meant. But Lynn wasn't into horseback riding. That would be degrading to Wild One, to be forced to do the bidding of a rider. Lynn didn't want to control the horse, she just wanted to be close friends.

As she turned to look the horse in the eye, Wild One said "You'd better wake up or I'm gonna be late for school." Lynn dragged herself up from her dream to a semi-awake state. Her granddaughter, Selena, was tickling her neck gently. "Finally, you're back from the dead. Get dressed, I have a test this morning and I can't be late."

Selena lived in Telluride, Colorado with her aunt Ellen. Lynn's daughter, Betsy, died having Selena. Betsy's husband, Don, had no clue what to do with a baby so Lynn kept her until she was four. By that time Don had married again, to Ellen, and they took her back in. Lynn kept her for a few days a month to let Don and Ellen have some alone time. On mornings like this she wished Selena was back with Don and Ellen already so she could sleep in. 'Having her around breaks up my morning routine and gives my day a rocky start.' Lynn thought.

Lynn rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. With only 15 minutes until she and Selena had to leave, it would have to be a short one. Some days her shower was her favorite time of the day; a time when she could enjoy the caress of the warm water for as long as she wanted and let her mind drift to her special place. But not this morning. In and out of the shower, makeup on, into her jeans and old blue shirt, and ready to go out the door right on time.

But of course, Selena wasn't ready yet, so Lynn stopped by the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee for the road. As she walked past her computer, where she spent an hour or two a day exchanging e-mails, reading her favorite blogs, and shopping for things she couldn't find in the local stores, she remembered her e-mail to the guy from high school science class. His answer to her first one was short and formal, but he hadn't responded to her reply yet.

"I guess he doesn't remember me, even though he was my first date." They had gone to the local movie theater to see _Love is a Many Splendored Thing,_ but she didn't remember much about the movie. She was too excited at sitting that close to him, hoping that he would hold her hand. That was O.K. on a first date, wasn't it? With no older sisters at home to tell her about these things, she didn't really know what to expect.

Selena came rushing out of her room saying "Grandma, we're going to be late!" like it was Lynn's fault they weren't on the road already. After getting her granddaughter to school with 3 minutes to spare, Lynn headed back home. As she hung her keys on the hook, she saw the computer again and thought, "I'll check one more time. If he hasn't answered I'll quit bugging him. He's probably a very busy person. I wonder what he does?" She didn't need to know how to make the hot dog cooker anyway. That wasn't really why she contacted him.

As her e-mail display opened, she smiled. There was an answer. She moved the mouse arrow over his message and paused "What if he blows me off. Doesn't remember Lynn Spence at all. Do I want to know that?" With a quick prayer, she clicked the e-mail open. He did remember her! And he was definitely being friendlier than in his first e-mail. She scanned the lines and saw that he had a picture of her in his mind. That was a good sign. He asked about the hot dog cooker and told her no matter what, don't touch the hot dog when it's plugged in. He closed with a cordial offer to answer any questions she might have. Oh, she had lots of questions, but those would have to wait.

She wrote a carefully thought out, friendly reply, asking if there were any other dangers she should worry about, like the hot dog exploding all over her kitchen. She went on with a little more history, reminding him that she had moved from Coal Creek shortly after they started 10th grade and, by the way, did he remember going to a movie with her.

She told him a little about Selena and her interest in science and how they planned to have several of Selena's friends over to try out the hot dog cooker for the first time. She thanked him for taking the time to answer her and, if he had time, would he tell her a little about himself. She clicked on SEND and wished she didn't have to wait for at least a day to hear back from him. The agony of waiting must have been unbearable back in the Pony Express days.

#

After spending the day cutting and splitting wood for the coming winter, Jack couldn't wait to get into the shower and scrub the saw dust off. Somehow it worked its way into his clothes and lodged in every crevice it could find. After the shower, he put on his comfortable "lounge around the house" clothes, opened a beer, and walked out to the mail box to see what was there.

There was the usual quota of ads from the local grocery and hardware store, 2 for 1 coupons for Uncle Jim's Country Pizza, and a solicitation from a bank announcing that, because of his excellent credit rating, he was already prequalified for a $5,000 line of credit. He wondered how that could be since he had never taken out a loan or used a credit card – at least not in his own name.

As he paged through the stack of mail, he came across a garden supply catalog addressed to Helen. A sob got past his defenses and caught in his throat. He wondered how long thoughts of her would have this power over him. Did people ever get over the death of a loved one, especially a sudden, unexpected death?

He forced his mind away from Helen, something he had been working on as an antidote to the depression he was struggling with, and looked at the final letter. It was addressed to Dr. Jackson Preston with no return address on the envelope. No one around here knew about him by that title; he had quit using it two months out of post-graduate school, when the Agency hired him. Maybe it was a letter from the alumni association, although he had been careful to disconnect himself for his past life when he moved up here into the mountains. He opened it and found a single sheet with one printed line that sent a chill up his spine:

"They know about the mission and they are watching you. Be careful!"

Jack thought 'Which mission. I've gone on more than twenty missions for the Agency. And why would they be watching me?"

#

Wright focused his eyes intently on the video surveillance monitor. He had watched Preston get the mail and sort through it but there was something about that last letter that caused a change in him. Right after he opened the letter, he had stopped walking, straightened up, and looked around. He picked up the satellite phone and called Jenkins.

"It may be nothing, boss, but I just saw something on video surveillance that was unusual, maybe even suspicious."

He told Jenkins what he had seen and asked "What do you want us to do, get inside when he's gone and get a look at the letter?"

"No, if the letter has something he doesn't want us to see, he would have hidden it by now."

"Is there some way we can intercept his mail before he sees it?"

"Not without a court order, and no judge can know what we're up to here."

Wright thought for a moment. "His mailbox is in plain view of the house, but we could try to sneak up and go through his mail as soon as the delivery truck leaves."

Jenkins thought about it for a minute. Trying to stay one step ahead of Preston was something nobody had ever been able to do.

"If the letter he got makes him suspicious, he'll be on high alert, so we have to tread carefully here. Let's continue to monitor his e-mail exchanges with this Martin woman and see what we learn there."
Chapter 3

Jack sat down with the letter to think. He tried to make a mental list of everyone he knew who might want to warn him – or play a joke on him. There were several men from the teams he had worked with on various missions, but he was never close with them and hadn't spoken to any of them in years. And as far as he knew, they were all either retired like him or they were dead. He couldn't remember even one of them with a sense of humor. In his business, everything was serious; it had to be. Everyone in the local community just knew him as Jack Preston and had no idea that he had a PhD in computer engineering. He had thought about creating a new identity when he retired, but he knew if anyone from the Agency wanted to find him, a new name wouldn't help.

To know about his PhD, the mystery letter writer would either have known him in the short time before he signed on with the Agency, or have access to his records within the Agency. If that was the case, it wouldn't have to be someone he knew, it could be just some clerk in the records section.

But why the warning then, if it was a warning. It could still be a joke of some kind, but an anonymous joke was an unlikely answer. Who could he contact for more information? . . . Kendrick – Bob Kendrick. They had been sort of friends at one time, brought together through Helen's friendship with Bob's wife, Charlene. They would get together once or twice a month for drinks and dinner at one house or the other.

Although Bob worked for the Agency, he was a white collar man and Jack had never worked with him in the field. But Bob was one of those information collectors in the Agency's bureaucracy who knew everything that was going on, even some of the classified stuff. He had once asked Jack over fried chicken at his picnic table about a deep black operation that was in the planning stages. Jack had shot him a stern look and Bob wisely backed off. Bob left the Agency a few years ago, but Jack would bet the farm that he still had inside contacts.

The problem was how to find him. Jack knew he had taken a job with a private firm that solved the same kinds of problems for the petroleum industry that the Agency solved for the Government. But the last couple of Christmas cards Helen had sent to them had been returned "Addressee Unknown." Maybe he could find something on the Web.

He booted up, entered "Robert Kendrick" in the search box, and hit the search key. 542 hits! That would take him days to go through. He narrowed down the search by adding Charlene's name and this time got only 8 hits. They were all news items – three about her work with a local orphanage, two about a $50,000 donation she and Bob had given to the hospital building fund, and three about her death. All were from the Hartford, Connecticut Courier.

Now he had something to go on. He narrowed his search for Bob by adding Hartford and hit enter again. Six hits, but all of them were the same ones he got for Charlene. He opened up each hit and scanned them for anything he might use to get in touch with Bob. There was an address, but it was the same one that the Christmas cards had been returned from. No mention of where Bob worked.

Jack wasn't through yet. He went to WhitePages.com and entered the name and city. No hits on that one: Bob must have left Hartford after his wife's death. What next?

As he stared at the computer screen thinking, his e-mail server showed that he had one unread message. He opened it and saw it was from the Martin woman. He decided to read it to clear his mind from over-focusing on locating Kendrick. She struck a definite friendly tone in this one as she wrote about her granddaughter, where she lived, and the memory of going to the movie with him. She asked if he remembered.

He had another flash image of sitting next to her in some movie and sweating with . . . what? Nervousness, fear, anxiety? It was so hard to be around girls at that age, when your hormones said "put your arm around her shoulders" but your mind said "but what if she gets mad and leaves." Was that the only time they had gone out together? In eighth grade it wasn't really a date, but he couldn't remember much about her after that movie. He never was one to keep scrapbooks or yearbooks, but there were online sites where you could see copies of your high school yearbooks.

After a brief web search he found _myyearbook.com_ that listed the Coal Creek High School year books from the years he and Lynn were there. He started with his first year of high school, 10th grade, and looked for Lynn Spence in the photo gallery, but she wasn't listed. He paged through the rest of the book and stopped on a page that caught his eye. There she was! The face he recalled when he saw her maiden name in the email. She was part of a group photo of the sophomore class play cast. The one where Jack had the role of an absent-minded professor. He thought back and vaguely remembered seeing her a couple of times back then, but she definitely wasn't in their graduating class. He would have to ask her about that when he answered her latest email.

As he lay in bed trying to sleep – he had a hard time sleeping in a half empty bed – he recalled the warning letter and wondered who they were warning him about. He made a mental list of the projects he had worked on and tried to recall who might want to get even with him. He had worked a couple of dozen cases for the Agency during his career, but most of those ended with the subject dead or in a foreign prison for life.

Maybe it was one of the foreign espionage agencies he had outsmarted, but why would they hold a grudge. The spy business had it's own set of unwritten rules and revenge wasn't one of them. As he finally dozed off to sleep he saw an image of the Agency's headquarters in Alexandria, Virginia, where many of the D.C. Government offices had moved to. Maybe that's where the threat was.
Chapter 4

Morning coffee on the front porch of his cabin. He wondered why this never got old, never got boring. Maybe because of the wildlife show. Hardly a morning went by when he didn't see something up close – a few deer, some turkeys, hawks, an occasional eagle, squirrels chattering, trout rising on the lake. Mornings like this never got old for him.

A flash from among the trees across the lake! What was that. He didn't react immediately, but slowly set his coffee cup on the arm of the rocker – then rocked back so it would spill on his lap. Now he could jump up and rush inside, wiping the coffee off and swearing, without raising suspicion.

He headed for the kitchen and grabbed a towel, then stood by the front door drying the coffee off and stealing glances across the lake to look for more evidence of someone's presence. Nothing there now. He made a mental note to nose around over there tonight.

If he was being watched it was time to check out his security systems. He started inside the cabin with his Spyfinder scanner – a small camera-like device that shows the location of hidden cameras. After scanning every room without a hit he thought 'Well, at least they haven't gotten that far yet.'

Next he made sure his audio static generator was working. If anyone was listening over a hidden microphone they would only hear loud static while the generator turned on. He would leave it off for now and let them listen to his silence, unless he needed to cover up a phone conversation.

Next he checked his perimeter security sensors. He opened the voice activated door hidden at the end of his closet and went into a second closet where he kept his "hardware" – guns, ammunition, armored vest, spare electronic devices, and the brains of the perimeter security system. He woke up the computer and saw an overhead map of his 25-acre property with blinking dots identifying all the motion sensors and infrared cameras. All were blinking green, which meant they were working and active.

Next he popped up an array of images from the cameras. One of them showed a broken branch covering part of the view. He would deal with that tonight while he was reconnoitering the site of the glint.

With everything checked out he opened up his laptop to answer Lynn's latest email. He didn't want to give her any details of where he lived, or what he did before he "retired." He was suspicious that she might be part of whoever was watching him. Until he figured that out he wasn't about to share anything with her.

He worked hard to keep himself below the radar on the internet – no personal information of any kind, and using several false identities and credit cards with aliases he had established while he was active at the Agency. Every agent had false identities, complete with passports and bank accounts, that they kept secret from their employers. You never knew when your agency might turn against you. He sat down and started typing.

Hello, Lynn.

I do remember you as Lynn Spence, and have a mental image of a good looking red head in 8th grade, but your weren't in our graduating class. Thanks for filling me in on some of your life. I went to college at WVU after high school and got a degree in engineering. I worked at locations worldwide until last year when I retired to a cabin in the West Virginia mountains at the ripe old age of 56. I've kept in shape all my life and now it's paying off. I go for hikes in the mountains, chop wood, and work on property improvement projects to keep fit. I do some occasional consulting in the engineering field that keeps my brain alive and my creative juices flowing, and I tinker with just about anything I can get my hands on. I'm sort of a MacGyver – I can fix almost anything with parts on hand.

That's my life. Fill me in on your history.

Jack

That's done. Now it's time to address the watchers problem. He started by listing all of his operational assignments for the past ten years in one column. In the second column he listed the target of the operations – governments, both U.S. and foreign, corporations involved in fraud or cover ups, individuals with terrorist links, drug cartels and their leaders. For most of them, Jack's role was a behind-the-scenes manipulator who turned one faction against another to break up their operations.

Back up! Just who was the Agency? The Federal Remediation Agency. FRA. What was their mission? Who did they report to? Maybe he should dig into the Agency a bit. He wasn't going to find anything useful with a Google search. He would have to dig around in the Darknet – the underground version of the public internet. It was filled with hackers, information brokers, classified data sources, and the latest secrets that will hit the news tomorrow. Whenever Jack entered that world he used a special screen name, one that was trusted by most the inhabitants of the Darknet, with embedded digital codes that verified his fictitious identity.

The Darknet search engine was called Giggle – someone had a sense of humor – so he went there and entered FRA. He found a list of all their operations over the past five years with summaries of the missions. He clicked on a couple of his jobs and found innocuous descriptions of the objectives and relevant dates. The Mission Complete dates agreed with his recollection of when he had finished the work.

As he continued looking at his operations he found one from two years ago that didn't have a completion date. The unclassified name was Shiloh. There was only that one, but it seemed strange. Was it just a clerical error or did the Agency keep the operation open for some reason? He looked over dozens of operations by other agents and found a few others that weren't marked complete. So it probably wasn't a clerical error. Did these operations have anything in common?

He called up another site that gave him access to more FRA operations information and compared the details of his open mission with the others. There were six in all, including his own. All six involved surreptitious entry into a facility, but the locations weren't given. The dates all fell within a six month period starting with his mission in late 2012. So they did have something in common, but why weren't they closed? And who were the agents involved? To find out more details he would have to get into the FRA computers themselves, and even with his skills and special software that would take him awhile, so he put that off until tomorrow. There didn't seem to be any urgency at this point.

For now, he wrote down all the details he could remember about the Shiloh mission. It seemed unimportant at the time. The Agency had him break into a silicon valley company and swap some records with files the FRA supplied him. He had blackmailed an insider at the company to get the entry codes for the building and the file room. It seemed unimportant at the time. So why was it still open?

He checked his security system and found there had been no alarms set off, so he headed into town for some supplies. He wanted to stock up in case he had to stay in the cabin or leave in a hurry. The dirt road down from his place on the mountain was winding and narrow, with a few other small roads branching of to the sides.

When he first moved up here he spent some time exploring and had a good mental map of where all the back roads went. Some went over the ridge to the next valley to take hunters into the remote deer country, others ended at old coal mines, and some were alternate routes to the nearby town.

He stayed on the shortest route, but it would still take him 30 minutes to get to town. In bad weather, the mud doubled the time it took, even with his 4.6 liter Ford SportTrac Utility Truck. He had picked up a used 2008 model in dark green and kept it dirty so it wouldn't stand out among all the other pickups around. With the four-seat interior and a reinforced cover for the truck bed, he could lay the front seats back to sleep and have plenty of room in the secure truck bed for supplies and an assortment of weapons.

As he neared the highway into town he saw a black Explorer parked back in the woods to his left. After he turned onto the highway he drove slowly to see of the vehicle would follow, but it didn't. After he replenished his supplies he stopped at Mac's diner for a quick supper and headed back home. As he turned up the road to his cabin he looked for the Explorer but it wasn't there.

By the time he got back and unloaded the supplies it was dark enough to check out the site of the flash he saw this morning. Jack slipped out the back door into the forest and made his way silently around the lake. When he got near the site, he waited to see if there was someone there tonight. After 10 minutes he got his answer – someone coughed lightly. He circled the site and saw two men sitting on a log in front of a small tent with a good view of his cabin. There was a sniper rifle leaning against a tree.

Jack backed off and made a wider circle around the camp. He found the Explorer parked among some trees. He want to get a look inside to see if he could find any papers, but if he opened the door the overhead light would go on. He saw it had power windows so he took out the bent coat hanger he brought along, slipped it between the door and its frame, and maneuvered it until pushed the window button and heard the window lowering. He reached in and lowered both front windows all the way and crawled into the car.

He used his night vision goggles and an infrared LED flashlight to see what was there. Nothing in the back seat but the remains of several fast food meals. He looked over the papers in the glove compartment, but there were no registration papers or other documents that would tell him who owned the vehicle. He leaned across the back seat to look in the rear and saw some pistols, shotguns and an M-15 carbine assault rifle. Apparently these guys, and whoever they worked for, meant business.

He took out the Superglue he had brought along for just this kind of thing and gave the firing pins and trigger mechanisms a liberal coating. No one would be using these weapons any time soon. He slid back out the window, went around to the driver's door and raised the passenger window. Finally he pushed the button to automatically raise the driver's window and pulled his arm out.

As he crept through the woods back toward his cabin he stepped in some fresh bear crap. 'Damn. I just cleaned these boots.' That gave him an idea. He went home and got some fish out of the freezer to thaw and went to bed. The next morning he set up his 12X zoom binoculars in his bedroom and watched the site. Now that he knew what to look for he had no problem pinpointing them. He watched until midmorning and saw them take the sniper rifle and head in the direction of the Explorer. Time for a trip to town for some more fast food.

He put the four defrosted trout in a Ziploc bag and quickly headed for their camp. He put one fish in the back corner of their tent, another two in their sleeping bags, and the fourth one buried under pine needles where they leaned the rifle against the tree. Then he hurried back to the cabin, pulled a chair up to his binoculars, and waited to enjoy the show. Hopefully they would get back before the bear showed up.

About an hour later he saw them walk back into camp and set the rifle down against the tree. Thirty minutes later two big black bears lumbered into the camp. One went straight for the tent and tore it up looking for the fish he smelled. The other sniffed the ground until he found the fish under the rifle butt, swatted the rifle into the woods, and ate the fish.

By this time both men, who were too stunned to act at first, got to their feet and ran for the Explorer. They came back armed with a shotgun and a pistol. They raised their weapons to fire but nothing happened. The bears, seeing them as competitors for the food, charged the men as they ran back to the Explorer. Jack didn't hear any screams, but he did hear an engine roaring as the Explorer crashed through the woods to escape.
Chapter 5

It had been a week since the bear incident. Jack checked the campsite a couple of times but saw no sign of their return. They may have set up their watching post somewhere else, but he saw no sign of it.

He had a special set of binoculars he modified by adding a small infrared laser pointer. If there was an optical lens – camera, binoculars, rifle scope –wherever he looked, the laser retro-reflected from it and displayed the location in his binocular view. A couple times a day he scanned the forest looking for optics but so far hadn't seen any. He almost wished he saw someone watching him so he could sick a bear on them.

He spent a few hours on the Darknet but found nothing new. He was putting the finishing touches on some software code that would let him hack into the Agency's computer and would try it out this afternoon. May he would finally get some answers about the guys who were watching him. He opened his lap top and saw Lynn's latest email. She sent it three days ago and he hadn't read it yet so he opened it:

Good to hear from you, Jack,

It sounds like you're enjoying your retirement. I guess growing up in the mountains is in our blood since we have both retired there. The Rockies are a bit different from the West Virginia hills – much taller and covered with snow year round.

I left Coal Creek in 10th grade because my family moved to Florida, so I graduated from high school there. After high school I went to Florida State and majored in business management. After I graduated I had a financial career with several different companies, and retired last year to our ski lodge in the Rocky Mountains. My ex-husband visits now and then, especially during ski season. My kids also ski. I guess that's why I moved up here. It lures the family up to the lodge a couple of times a year for a ski vacation and again in the fall when the aspens turn to gold.

I told Selena and her friends about the hot dog cooker and they can't wait to make one and try it out. They're talking about having a hot dog "cookout" once they get it finished. Thank you for taking the time to answer me.

Lynn

She sounds like an interesting person, and is probably who she says she is. But in this business you can't be too careful. He typed out a short answer, hoping to cut off further emails:

Glad to hear your life is going so well, Lynn. Let me know how the hot dog cooker turns out.

Jack

#

He woke up at dawn after laying awake for half the night thinking about his software design for hacking into the FRA computer. The software program he was writing hadn't hacked into the Agency's computer system yet, at least not all the way. Every time he tried her got a little deeper into their system. But he would keep making changes until he got deep enough into their system to get the information he was after. Once he got that he would have more pieces of the puzzle.

A cup of coffee on the porch should get his mind back in gear. A few deep breaths of forest air and he was feeling better already. He watched the trout rising for a bit and then was treated to a bald eagle swooping down to catch it's breakfast. He watched it soar high in the sky with a trout in it's talons and head for its nest across the lake.

As he lowered his gaze he did a double take. Was there something else flying high over the lake? It was too small to make out, so he got his binoculars. There it was. He zoomed the image and saw a small drone aircraft! Nothing big, wide wingspan, propeller driven, super-quiet engine. He watched it until it circled back for another loop over the lake and his cabin. He pushed the retro laser button and immediately got a glint back from the lens on the drone. So that's how they were watching him now.

His mind immediately ran through approaches to counter this threat. Maybe he could train the eagle to go after it. (Another wild thought from his creative A.D.D. mind. Get serious here!) He could build a jammer for the radio control signals. That would crash the drone in short order. Or he could pull out his 10-watt laser, mount it on a tripod with a rifle scope, and burn out the video camera. He had used that approach a few times on missions that required neutralizing surveillance cameras and it worked well.

Maybe that would be the best approach because they would have no clue what made the camera quit. They probably would just put in a new camera and send it back up so he could take out another one. After three or four camera replacements, they would conclude it must be the power supply. When they sent the plane up with a new power supply and he killed that camera, they would get a new camera supplier, and when he killed that one they would . . . He could keep this game going for a couple of weeks or so.

A week and four dead drone cameras later they quit sending them up. He would have to keep his eyes open for their next attempt to keep him under surveillance. He still wasn't any closer to figuring out who they were. And why would they watch him at his home? It wasn't to see where he went and who he talked to.

That's it! They must be watching for someone to come up here to talk to him. Who would want to talk to him? Maybe whoever sent him the warning letter. He, or she, knew where he lived, but they also knew he was being watched, so it's not likely they would come here, at least not in daylight. If someone was trying to meet with him he needed to give them an opportunity somewhere else. Time for a road trip.

#

His plan was to drive to the Washington DC area using the main roads and keeping an eye out for vehicles that might be tailing him. He had rigged his car with miniature video cameras built into the front and rear license plate frames. The images were fed into an on-board computer that read the license plate numbers and vehicle images of any car in front of or behind him. It stored them in a data base and if any of them showed up frequently, his laptop screen would alert him and display the vehicle information. He would keep varying his speed so traffic wouldn't stay behind him. If he saw any vehicles in the pack matching his speed variations, it was suspicious and he would keep his eyes on it.

If he positively identified a tail car he would drive to a place where he could loose them, then circle around and follow them back to their home base. Once he knew who they worked for, he would have a much better chance of finding why he was under surveillance.

He didn't see anyone following him when he left, but now that he was on the main highway he would have to pay more attention. Keeping watch was easier with four traffic lanes since he could change lanes and see who followed. If they were a few cars back and moved to a left to get in his lane the camera would get a clear shot at their car. If he didn't catch a tail on this trip he would try again in a few days.

He pulled off the freeway and into a gas station to see who followed. After a few minutes a grey sedan pulled in with two men who looked like they could be agents – shirt and tie, sunglasses. When he looked right at them they turned their heads. They must have been a few miles behind him – too far to keep him in sight. That meant there must be a plane overhead that was watching, and they were there to follow him if he left the highway.

He went inside, bought a roll and a cup of coffee, and went back to his car. As he stood by the car door he did some body stretches – twist left, twist right, bend forward, then bend backwards and scan the sky from that position . . . There it was, at about five-thousand feet and twenty degrees left of the highway. Not much he could do about that right now, so he drove back onto the highway and headed for Alexandria where the FRA headquarters were.

As he drove he thought about the aerial surveillance. They were spending big bucks to track him. What could be that important? When he got to Alexandria he would throw them a curve by disappearing. That should stir up the hornet's nest and flush out something he could work with. He could have his friends in the Darknet watch to see where the phone and computer traffic picked up.

He checked into the Alexandria Hyatt early so he could find a space on level 1 of the underground parking garage. He had booked a room on the first floor and he found a parking space underneath where he guessed his room was located. This would give the wireless video cameras enough power to be picked up by his laptop in his room.

He got into his electronics stash in the trunk and pulled out four tiny cameras. He had designed them to look like mud dauber nests so they were easy to hide. He stuck them on support posts and the back wall, then went back to his room to test them. They all worked fine. The cameras were motion sensor activated and would only be active when someone was near his car, so he wouldn't have to review hours of recordings in the morning.

#

He ordered supper brought up and started working on the latest changes to his hacking program. By midnight he was finished but he would have to wait until morning to test it. He only hacked when the network traffic was high to make it harder to detect the intrusion.

He was ready to call it a night when his email alarm went off. He checked and saw another one from Lynn. 'May as well have a look before I turn in.'

Jack,

The girls tried the hot dog cooker and it was amazing. They made it with four sets of nails to cook four dogs at a time. Four dogs in two and a half minutes! About the same as a microwave but a lot more fun to watch with all the sparks and popping. You should patent it. That made me think that maybe you have patented it, so I entered your name in a patent search. There was no hot dog cooker, but it looks like you have a few other patents. It could have been another Jackson Preston, but the inventor had your middle name, Joshua. How many people could have the name Jackson Joshua Preston? Your patents were for computer, video, and electronic gadgets. I knew you were smart.

The early October chill is starting to move into the high country. The first snow won't be far behind. I get snowed in up here often, sometimes for a couple of weeks at a time. I don't mind it, but I have to stock in plenty of food, get my propane tank filled, and get the generator serviced. I have a commercial freezer in the basement so there's room for lots of food. I can always ice fish if I run out of everything else. I have a couple of deer rifles and can go out hunting on my snow shoes if the snow is deep. I also have a snowmobile, but it doesn't do well in deep fluffy powder.

It's nice to have someone to exchange emails with. The house is pretty remote so I don't have neighbor to chat with.

Lynn

Well, maybe he didn't want to cut off the correspondence yet. She sounds more and more interesting. He typed an answer, throwing a couple of questions from high school to see if she couldn't answer them. If she could, she was probably who she said she was.

I'm glad the hot dog cooker worked. Try it with a big dill pickle in a darkened room. You'll get quite a light show.

Before I even got out of high school GE introduced a kitchen appliance that used the same principle to cook six hot dogs at once, so even if I wanted to patent it, they beat me to it. As for the other patents, I plead guilty. In my job, whenever I need something that doesn't exist I just invent it. I've only patented the ones with commercial potential.

After awhile I concluded that a patent is only worthwhile if you are willing to pay big bucks to protect it in court, and I wasn't interested in that. If big companies, especially overseas imitators, want to steal your idea, they have a permanent staff of lawyers whose only job is to defend their patents and steal others.

I have a machine shop and an electro-optics lab in my basement so I still create things – robotic vehicles, laser devices, and model rockets. I got into that in Coal Creek right after Sputnik was put in orbit. I saw a movie a few years ago, October Sky, that reminded me of my teen years in Coal Creek. It was a true story about a West Virginia mountain boy who started out making rockets and ended up a NASA scientist. It was pure luck that kept me alive back then. Especially during my bomb-making years. I used to make pipe bombs and set them off up the Coal Creek holler where no one could get hurt.

My best buddy in Coal Creek was part of all of this fun. Do you remember him? We used to hang out at that lunch room across from the junior high school. I don't remember what it was called, but every noon hour a bunch of the girls and some of the boys would go over there and dance.

As for my personal life, my wife died earlier this year. I have 3 grown boys and 4 grandchildren, but I don't see them much because they live all over the place.

I'll be on the road for a few days. I'll check my email when I can.

Jack.

He hit send and punched up the video monitor screen from the parking garage cameras. No action yet. 'It's time for bed. I'll check again in the morning.'

He woke at 3 a.m. to the beeping of his computer signaling the video cameras sensed human motion. He opened the video feeds and, sure enough, there were two men around his truck – one reaching under the frame and the other trying to pick the lock on the cargo compartment cover. Lot's of luck with that. He had a locksmith friend build a pick-proof lock for the lid. And the lid itself was a sandwich of steel and titanium that would take a carbide-bladed Skilsaw to penetrate.

Jack grabbed his camera and went out the back hotel exit to the parking garage exit ramp. He hid in a hedge next to the ramp and, as the two men left, he got photos of their license plate.

Back in his room he watched the recorded video. Then he went through the frames with face images and selected the clearest one of each man. Next he logged on to the Federal face recognition web site and entered the two faces.

While he was waiting for it to run through all the face files for comparison he opened another web site to search for the license number. It was a Virginia plate, so it didn't take very long to identify that it belonged to an unlisted company . . . he sort of expected that.

Next he went to the parking garage and looked for the bug. He found two, which was standard procedure in the surveillance business. You put one where it could be found easily and another hidden in the framework beneath the car. Jack always smiled when movies showed the characters finding THE bug. Maybe he could get a consulting job as a technical advisor who has "been there, done that." He put the GPS bugs in his pocket, walked across the street to a truck stop, and stuck then on the frame of a semi. I wonder how long they'll track that truck before they figure out that it's not me making a run for it.

He returned to his room and saw that the face recognition search had found a hit on one of the men, Alex Cooper. The name didn't trigger any of his memory circuits, so he Googled it to see what came up. The guy was ex-Army and had served in Afghanistan as an intelligence officer. He lived in Silver Spring, MD with a wife and two children, ages 10 and 14. He had no felony convictions, but a couple of recent traffic tickets. His employer was listed as Blackworth Security, one of the top agents-for-hire firms in the country. They don't bother with adultery and divorce cases. They only do classified and deep cover work. The guy must be under contract to FRA.

After trying to hack the FRA computer for the next hour, he gave up. Every time he went in he got deeper into the system, but not far enough to get the full details of operational missions. Well, back to the drawing board. He made some notes about the next changes he would try.

Since he only got a couple hours sleep last night, he turned in early. He ran a check on the security system at home and found nothing suspicious. Just a deer tripping a motion camera. He thought about answering Lynn's latest email but he was too tired. Maybe tomorrow.
Chapter 6

Jack woke up, showered, dressed and went down to the hotel coffee shop. The brew-in-your room coffee in styrofoam cups tasted terrible. The hotel had a Starbuck's that would make it just the way he liked it. "I'll have a grande mocha latte, 115 degrees, and an apple scone." He took his breakfast and a morning paper, compliments of the Hyatt, to a vacant table. Nothing big. The paper had nothing big to report. An early snowstorm was about to move into the Colorado Rockies. He thought of Lynn and hoped she had stocked up for winter in time.

A man carrying a coffee cup sat down at the table behind him. Jack didn't get a good look but he didn't seem to pay any attention to him. Jack finished his coffee and was about to slide his chair back when he saw a napkin on the floor by his foot. He picked it up, meaning to return it to the man behind him but it has some writing on it.

I sent you the letter. Don't turn around, ignore me. Finish your coffee and leave. Come to room 342 at 8 pm tonight and we'll talk.

The napkin had a room key card taped inside. Jack slipped them in his pocket, drained his coffee and left. Back in his room he pulled out the note and read it again. Neat printing, definitely not a scribbled note after the guy sat down. He must have written it ahead of time on a napkin he got earlier. That, and the fact he has a room here, shows that he had things planned. Jack thought back to the warning letter: _"They know about the mission and they are watching you. Be careful!"_ Again, who's "they?" Maybe this guy can tell him. Jack thought this might be a trap, but if they wanted to grab him they have had plenty of opportunities. But just in case, he would go to the meeting armed.

He went down to his truck, lifted up the bed lid, and stuffed a few things into a leather bag. Back in his room, he took out a handgun, some used coveralls, and thin leather gloves. The pistol was a Walther PPK-22LR with a Yankee Hill silencer – standard issue for covert operations where a small, light, easily concealed handgun is needed.

He unfolded the dark green coveralls. They were well-worn with a few smudges of dirt and grease on them. He checked the pocket and found half a dozen patches for different types of service companies. He chose one that said "Professional Plumbers, Inc." and stuck it on the Velcro square above the breast pocket. He pulled out a John Deere ball cap and tried it on. With the bill pulled down low, hotel security cameras wouldn't be able to capture his face.

Jack packed his suitcase, computer, and the leather bag and took them down to the truck. He wanted to be able leave quickly if something went wrong.

At 7:50 Jack stuck the key card in the lock of room 342. He showed up a little early to catch the guy off guard, in case he was planning a surprise for Jack. He opened the door to an empty room and announced himself "Maintenance, here to fix your clogged drain." No answer. Jack headed through the bedroom to the bathroom to "fix the drain" and stopped in his tracks. There was a body on the floor. He checked the pulse to see if the guy was alive. He was definitely dead, but his body was still warm. From the marks on his neck he was probably strangled with something thin, maybe a piano wire. Good way to kill someone. No blood, no screams.

There was no wallet or other ID on him. As Jack studied the face, he realized he recognized him. It was the inside accomplice on the Shiloh mission. The one Jack had blackmailed to get the door combinations. A quick search of the room didn't turn up anything he could use. There was a laptop charger on the desk, but no laptop. Whoever killed him must have taken it.

He finished his search in the bedroom and found an Ipad under the mattress, which he tucked it into his coveralls. After one last look around, Jack left the room and hurried down the back stairwell to the first floor landing, checking to be sure there were no security cameras. He stripped off his coveralls and hat and put them and the Ipad into a cloth bag he pulled from the inside pocket of the coveralls. He calmly opened the door to the parking garage and walked to his truck.

He turned right out of the parking garage and drove through traffic for awhile, making moves to shake a tail in case someone was following him. Where to now? He couldn't go back to his mountain place because they would surely be watching that. To be safe he had to assume they might try to frame him for the murder, so he had to get out of this area.

He joined the late commuter traffic on I-95 south and drove a couple hundred miles. There weren't any roadblocks, so the police weren't involved yet. If "they" weren't trying to frame him, they may have removed the body themselves.

He took the next exit onto a country road and drove 10 miles until he found a small town and stopped at the Appalachian Trails motel. These local motels kept their guest lists on the office computer, so his location wouldn't show up on the central computer of a hotel chain. He paid cash in advance for a three-day stay stay, but he didn't intend to stay that long. He had to stay under their radar now.

He got some carry-out food from the motel restaurant and settled into his room to see what the Ipad had to tell him. He pulled it out, put black tape over the selfie camera so he couldn't be seen or recorded, and turned it on. Of course the guy had it password protected, and it's not likely to be an easy one to crack. He didn't know the guy's name, birthday, or address – the most commonly used passwords. The dead guy's involvement in the Shiloh mission might be a clue, so he typed in "Shiloh" and bingo, he got in.

The screen wasn't as cluttered as his was; there were only six file folders with alpha-numeric names – letters followed by numbers. One jumped out at him; JJP112312. Those were his initials and the date he was assigned the mission that was still open in the FRA files. He opened it and found the complete FRA records of his classified operation. Somehow, this dead guy had the file Jack was trying to hack out of the Agency.

Everything was there – his name, dates, location of the target file he was assigned to steal, who he delivered them to – everything except what was in that file. He clicked on the "Status" tab and the box "Mission Complete Date" wasn't filled in. A footnote read "Final disposition of this mission file awaiting evaluation of long-term effectiveness." Another piece of information he didn't know was where the assignment came from originally. Who directed the Agency to carry out the mission? He clicked the "Background" tab and, in the "Authorized by" space, there was one word: "Hermetrius." Jack knew of no one in the Agency or elsewhere with that name. It must be a code name for someone high enough up to get the Agency to do its bidding.

Jack turned his attention to the other five other files. The dates all matched up with his list of open files he got from the Darknet. The first one, AER031513, must be for mission initiated on March 15th 2013. Who was AER? He opened the file and found out; Alan Edward Richardson. His mission was similar to Jack's – break into the records room of a company, in Richardson's case Caspian Industries, and exchange some files. He opened each of the other files on the Ipad and found the same pattern – sneak into a Government contractor facility, remove some records, replace them with a new file, and deliver the stolen files to an Agency operative. The "Status" on all of them read "Final disposition of this mission file awaiting evaluation of long-term effectiveness." And all five were authorized by Hermetrius. The missions, starting with his, covered a six month period from November 2012 to May 2013.

He didn't know what all this was about, but if the dead guy, the informant Jack used to get into his target, Silicon Software, gave his life to deliver this information, it must be important. Important enough to get him killed. Jack rummaged through his memories of that mission for the name of the informant . . . Steve . . . Steve Adkins, that was it. He searched online and got a bunch of hits from lots of men named Steve Adkins. He narrowed his search by adding San Jose, CA, the location of Silicon Software, and got a single hit – Steven Thomas Akins. He dipped into the Darknet to get more details and found that he worked for Silicon Software, was married to a woman named Susan, and had two children. So that's who the dead guy was.

He wondered if his death had been reported to his wife or his employer. He started with a call to the switchboard at Silicon Software and asked to be connected with Steve Adkins. The operator connected him and he listened to a dozen rings before he hung up. Next he tried Susan Akins at the home phone number listed in Whitepages.com. She picked up on the third ring and he asked if Steve was home.

"No, he's out of town on business, but he'll be back tonight. Can I take a message?"

"No, I'll try his cell phone," Jack answered and hung up.

So by tomorrow morning the cat will be out of the bag. Steve's employer and his wife would realize he's missing and law enforcement would have to get involved. Jack wondered how Steve's killers would handle it. Would they dispose of the body? Or stage a car fatal crash? Those ligature marks on his neck would be hard to hide, so they will either have to get rid of the body, or leave it in the hotel room . . . or wherever they dumped his body, and let the police sort it out..

However they did it, the Alexandria police will start a search for the killer. If Akins had registered at the Hyatt using his real identity, it won't take them long to look at surveillance tapes and see the maintenance man enter and leave his room. By matching that up with parking garage surveillance of vehicles that left about that time, the police would probably start looking for a truck like his. He had put fake plates on the truck and used one of his false IDs to check in, but if they know what the vehicle looks like they may put out an BOLO, be-on-the-look-out, based on the vehicle description. It will be time to move first thing in the morning.

When he came back from supper he scanned the parking lot for any suspicious vehicles but nothing unusual stood out. A young couple walked out of he restaurant and went into the room next to his, but he saw nothing to be suspicious of.

He hadn't planned beyond tomorrow. The two-lane highway through town headed west up into the mountains and wound its way through West Virginia and on through Kentucky. He didn't expect anyone to be watching the small, remote highways, so he would stick to the back roads for awhile. As he tried to get to sleep he heard the couple next door talking. The wall was thick enough to keep him from understanding the conversation, but it was enough to keep him from sleep. They finally quieted down, so they were probably going to sleep.

Jack was almost asleep when he heard them again. This time they weren't talking, but it was clear what they were doing. He made a mental note to look for motels with cement block walls from now on.

He was wide awake again. What he heard brought back the memories of Helen on their honeymoon. That part of their relationship stayed solid right up until she was killed by a drunk driver. He hadn't realized how much he missed the physical side of their relationship. He pulled his mind away from those thoughts and looked for something else to think about. Lynn Martin came to mind. Since he was still wide awake he decided to check for a new email from her.

Hello Jack,

The pickle experiment was dazzling. Flashes of green, orange, and yellow accompanied by snap, crackle, and pop! We all loved it. We took a bite out of the pickle, but a hot pickle isn't as good s a cold one.

Sorry to hear about your wife. I lost two sisters before I got out of high school. The reason we moved to Florida in 10th grade was because my sister Betsy died and left two kids in grade school. No one else could take care of them so I moved into Betsy's house and raised the kids. I didn't have much of a social life, but I've always been a caretaker so raising the boys was rewarding. I did get some excitement at the race track in high school. I had a '57 Chevy that I drove in drag races on Saturday nights.

I do remember your friend, Carl. He was so short and you were so tall they used to call you two Mutt and Jeff, after the cartoon characters. I remember the lunch room, too. My friends and I danced in there at lunch hour every day. It was called Dance 'n Eat. They didn't have anything like that in the Florida high school, so lunch times were boring there.

If you are ever out this way, let me know and maybe we can get together.

Lynn

Jack thought 'Well, she passed the test of knowing trivia from high school, so she must be for real. It would be fun to get together and talk over old times.'

Hi Lynn,

I'm glad you all found the pickle experiment entertaining. I have several other fun experiments I did with my boys when they were young. One of their favorites was making tiny rockets out of paper matches. My grandson did a science fair project on that one. My boys also liked to make their race cars for the Cub Scout Pinewood Derby. I worked out the physics of the ideal car design for them and they won most of their races.

I don't get to see them often because of the distance between us, but when the families all get together we have fun recounting all our adventures (and misadventures – the ones their mom wasn't told about.) Now that I'm semi-retired maybe I can find more time to visit them.

If I'm on the road out your way I'll let you know and maybe we can have lunch.

Jack

Jack woke up before dawn and headed west. He watched for headlights following him out of town but the road was empty. In his dirty, outdated pickup truck he wouldn't stand out in the back country towns, so there wasn't much chance whoever was after him would find him.
Chapter 7

George Jenkins called his Blackworth team into his office for an update on locating Jack Preston.

"O.K., where are we? Any new leads since he got away from us at the Hyatt?"

Frank Wright answered "Not a thing. We added more helicopter flights looking for his truck but no luck. I think he's long gone from the Washington D.C. area."

"How about the woman in the emails we intercepted? Any progress in locating her, Ed?"

"We have identified 23 women named Lynn Martin living in the Rocky Mountain area, and that's just in the U.S. We could extend the search up into the Canadian Rockies, but we have no assurance he's even headed that way. Once he left his cabin we had no way of intercepting his emails. We could stake out the 23 Lynn Martins we found and see how many redheads there are, but that's not in the budget."

George said "I checked with the client and there will be more money coming in the morning. With nothing else to go on let's break up into three teams and stake out their homes to see who can spot a redhead."

"We'll fly out to Denver first thing tomorrow and start the search."

#

Jack got all the way to Memphis before he stopped again. He was back on the Interstate Highways now and made better time. He grabbed some dinner to go and stopped at another no-name hotel for the night.

After he showered he tuned through the TV news channels looking for anything that he ought to know. Nothing of interest showed up, so He opened his laptop and checked the Washington papers for any news about the murder at the Hyatt. Nothing there either. He remembered that Steve Adkins lived in San Jose, so he checked the obituaries from there. Nothing. He expanded the search to nationwide obituaries in case Susan had taken the body somewhere else for burial, but he still got nothing. 'Does Susan even know her husband is dead? If they hadn't told her yet, how were they keeping her from calling missing persons? They must have come up with a cover story so she wouldn't worry.'

As he lay down to sleep his cell phone dinged with a text message. It was from Bob Kendrick!

" _Jack. After you answer this text, wait 10 minutes and I'll call you. Switch your phone to the encrypted mode before you answer."_

Jack texted back "How did you know I've been trying to reach you, Bob?"

" _I have tracking software that lets me know when anyone searches for my name on the internet. Then I backtrack it to the source."_

" _How do I know it's really you?"_

" _My wife's sisters name is Phoebe. You've met her."_

" _O.K. Call in 10 minutes."_

Jack switched his phone to encrypted, turned on his laptop to take notes, and waited. He picked it up on the first ring. "Bob?"

"Yeah. I want to make this short. What do you need, Jack?"

"I had a mission a couple of years ago code named Shiloh. I went into a company, removed some files, and replaced them with fakes. Now it's come up again and I need to know what it was about. It was authorized by Hermetrius, whoever that is. I've found five other missions that may be related."

"Jack, you're into something pretty deep . . . and dangerous. Hermetrius is bad news. You don't want him after you."

"I think he already is. A surveillance team has been on my tail for several days, but I shook them."

"O.K. Jack. Give me until 6 a.m. and I'll contact you again. Do you have VPN, Virtual Private Network, on your computer? I would rather communicate with encrypted emails."

"Yes. My VPN email address is 294830@securenet.com. I also have a dozen untraceable throw away cell phones if we need them. But who is Hermetrius, what's his real name?"

"No one knows. He's known by his reputation as someone who will do anything to get what he wants."

"I'll look for your e-mail, Bob."

Jack knew this situation was serious when the body showed up, but it's sounding like there's more at stake than he thought. He'd have to keep his mental 'radar' cranked up to full power.

At 6 the next morning he was already at his computer waiting for Bob's email. By 6:30 he hadn't heard from Bob so he called Bob's phone. He got a recording saying that number was no longer in service. What was going on? Did Bob bail out on him? Did the name Hermetrius scare him off?

By 6:45 he was about to give up when Bob's email came in.

Sorry I'm late Jack. There were some hackers trying to get into my system early this morning so I had to trace the thread back and dump multiple viruses on their systems. They won't be hacking any time soon, but I'm worried that it's got to do with my digging around in the Agency's data base last night. They backtracked on my links trying to identify me, but that will never happen. I wrote my own antihacking program that is way above their expertise. It let's me know when someone is trying to hack into me, then sends them off on a wild goose chase to somewhere else. I can even divert their hacking attack to the White House, where the NSA will locate them within 15 minutes and sick the black helicopters on them. I'm saving that one for when I really need it.

Here's what I found, Jack. The six missions weren't about stealing some files, they were about putting files with false information in their place. I don't know what the false information is or whether it was the same for all six missions. That's all I've got for now. I'll keep digging.

Bob

Jack sat back and wondered what to do next. He had to find a way to get ahead of whoever was after him, but he had run out of ideas. He decided to sleep on it and see if he had any new thoughts in the morning. He woke up out of a dream at 3 a.m. with the answer. He was dreaming about being chased by zombies and he had to break into their lair to get the secret to defeating them. That was his next move! He would break back into Silicon Systems and look at the file he left there. There must be something in it that will tell him what's going on.

He didn't go back to sleep. Now that he had a plan he was anxious to get moving. He checked his map and saw that he could make Albuquerque in 14 hours, spend the night, then head up to San Jose for another 16 hours. He would plan the break-in while he was driving. He still remembered the codes to the rear entry door and to the file room that he used to get in to the company the first time. With a little luck they won't have been changed.

Two days later Jack pulled into a hotel two blocks from Silicon Systems headquarters. He pick this one because Google Earth showed that there was nothing but scrub brush from the back of the hotel to the rear fence of the headquarters grounds. He could do the entire mission on foot from the hotel. He would scout out a path and get a look at the fence in the morning and make his entry tomorrow night. That would give him a day to hack into their security system and find the routes and timing of the guards making their rounds.

Right now he was bushed so he grabbed a shower, checked to see if he had any more emails from Bob. There was nothing from Bob but he did have a new email from Lynn:

Hi Jack,

The nights are getting cold up here. We had one brief snow storm already, well not really a storm. It snowed hard for half a day, then the sun came out and had all the roads melted off by late afternoon. There's not enough snow for skiing yet, but it won't be long.

I had to take O'Malley, my Irish setter, to the vet today. She took off chasing a bobcat and apparently caught up to it, because she came home with her face all scratched up. Nothing serious, but I hope she learned her lesson. She's the only company I have up here and she's a great watch dog, so I would hate to lose her.

Are you still on the road? I assume it's one of your consulting jobs. It must be nice being a semi-retired consultant who can work when he feels like it. When you're on the road do you fly to your assignments or drive? I've always enjoyed driving around the U.S. on the back roads with the great scenery, real people, and greasy burgers and fries.

I haven't traveled much at all since my husband and I split up. I have plenty of money saved up so I could go just about anywhere I wanted to, but travelling alone is only fun for a little while and I don't have any women friends – at least none that I want to travel with.

I have attached two photos of me. One that I had taken for a passport a couple of years ago and another on the deck of my house. I hope it doesn't shatter your vision of me from my school days.

I'll look forward to your next email.

Lynn

Jack opened the photos, and liked what he saw. Her face was easily recognizable from his memory of her in high school. One thing he noticed is that she smiled with her mouth and her eyes. People who only smile with their mouths are faking it. The full-length picture showed a tall, well-shaped woman standing in a relaxed position, with one elbow leaning on the deck railing and the other hand on her hip. He was looking forward to meeting her.

#

Jack got up early the next morning, while the nighttime chill was still in the air, put on his spandex jogging suit with a snug hood hat hid everything but his eyes, and headed out the back exit of the hotel. He looked for trails through the waist-high scrub brush and found several, including one that took him within 20 feet of the chain link fence. He ran along that trail until he was out of sight of the Silicon Systems building, then turned around and ran back along the fence looking for a way in. The 4-foot bank leading up to the base of the fence was mostly large rocks and it didn't take him long to find what he was looking for – a large-diameter rock wedged into the bank below the fence. He stopped to tie his shoe and got a closer look at it. He saw where he could wedge a small bottle jack behind it and push it free to roll down the bank. It would look like erosion had freed it, so there would be no evidence of his entry. He sprayed a small spot of a colorless paint on the rock and the fence and then jogged back to the hotel, spraying some more paint on the bushes here and there so he could find his way at night.

After he had some breakfast he drove to an auto parts store and bought a 6-ton bottle-style hydraulic jack. He spent the rest of the day trying to find out something about Hermetrius. He went into the Darknet and searched on the name, but after 30 seconds the search engine shut down and wouldn't let him back on. He must have touched a nerve. Another dead end.

Next he hacked into the computer systems of several Government agencies to see of the name showed up there. He didn't have time to worm his way into the classified files. Again nothing showed up.

How about Google? He typed in "Hermetrius" and got several hits, all for a mythological Greek god of vengeance and retribution. His other attributes included deceit and trickery. Jack wondered if this guy's code name was chosen for it's meaning, or was it just some random word.

Jack ate an early supper and slept for a couple of hours. He woke up just before midnight and put on the black jogging suit and hood. He packed the jack, gloves, a few tools, a spy camera, and an ultraviolet flashlight into a back pack. The fluorescent paint he sprayed on the fence and bushes was invisible unless it's illuminated by UV light, then it glows green. His UV flashlight would show the way to the fence and back, but the beam would be invisible to the human eye.

He had no trouble finding the big rock again. He wedged the bottle jack behind it and started pumping the handle. After a dozen strokes the rock broke loose and rolled down the bank. The hole it left just below the fence was big enough for him to crawl through. Once he got under the fence he set out at a trot for the back door. As he got near the building he froze. There was someone beside the door smoking a cigarette. Was it a guard posted at the back door? Or just someone stepping out for a smoke. Jack had to stay where he was, frozen in place, for five minutes before the smoker was finished and went back inside. Finally he could move. His muscles were complaining big time but he couldn't take time to stretch and relax them for a few minutes.

Jack eased his way to the door and inspected the lock. It looked the same as the last time he was here two years ago, but what were the chances they had changed the button combination since then. If they had, he would have to use the crowbar he brought on the door, but that would leave evidence of his visit. He quietly punched in the memorized numbers and slowly turned the handle. Click! It worked. He opened the door just a crack and slipped a flexible fiber optic spy scope into the crack. He scanned the room and found it empty, then he aimed the scope up high looking for surveillance cameras. He lucked out again. He opened the door just enough to slip inside and put a piece of duct tape over the door latch so he could get back out silently.

He took the stairs to the second floor, and used his spy scope again to make sure there were no surveillance cameras and that no one was in the hallway. The file room was fifty feet down the hall and around the corner – at least that's where the files were two years ago. He taped the latch on the stairway door and headed for the file room. He said a quick prayer, punched in the combination on the door, and turned the handle. Click! His luck was holding out.

Here's were things got risky. Guards made their rounds up and down the hallways every fifteen minutes, and they didn't stick to an exact schedule. That wouldn't be a problem except that the file room had large windows facing the hallway, so if a guard came by while Jack was photographing the file, he was caught.

He went to the same file cabinet where he put the fake file folder in on his first visit. All the cabinets were locked, but they were no match for his lock picking skills. In thirty seconds he had the drawer open and was searching for the file number. It wasn't there! None of the file numbers were even close to what he was looking for. He looked around and saw that there were only eight cabinets in the room instead of the twelve they had two years ago. Where did the other files go?

A desk in the corner of the room held a computer and page scanner, and a stack of files. That's it! They were converting from paper files to a computer filing system. If they had already scanned in the fake file it was probably shredded by now. He looked through the stacked files first but the one he was looking for wasn't there. Maybe as they scanned in the files they rearranged the remaining files in the cabinets. He didn't have time to pick the other seven cabinet locks. He started looking at the labels on the file drawers and saw they each had a range of consecutive file numbers. He found the drawer that should have the fake file in it three cabinets down the line. He picked he lock and opened the top drawer. There it was, halfway back in the drawer!

He pulled the file out and opened it on the floor to get pictures of every page. He had just started when the door knob rattled! Someone was checking to make sure it was locked. He saw a flashlight shine through the window and around the room. He slipped under the desk with the file and camera. The guard wouldn't be able to see him easily, even if he entered the room. The flashlight made one more pass around the room and stopped . . . on the open file drawer Jack took the file from. The guard unlocked the door and came in for a closer look. He used the flashlight to scan the room looking for anything else out of order, then pulled out his radio.

"Security central this is unit 14 on the second floor. I found a file drawer open in the records room. There's nothing else unusual, though. Advise please."

" _Uhhh . . . Unit 14, go ahead and close the drawer, then report back here. I'll call the boss and see what he wants us to do."_

" _Roger that, central."_

After closing the drawer and locking the cabinet he left the room and closed he door.

With a gasp Jack started breathing again. He didn't know he could hold his breath that long. No time for picture taking or breaking back into the cabinet to replace it. He had to take the file and get out fast, hoping they wouldn't miss it until its turn to be scanned came up.

Jack left the file room and hurried around the corner to the exit stairs. Just as he closed the stairwell door he heard two men talking as they hurried down the hallway to the records room. He took the stairs three at a time to the bottom floor, dashed to the back door, and ripped off the duct tape as he went out. Building security could set off an alarm anytime so he had to get to the fence and back to the hotel before everything hit the fan.

He couldn't remember exactly where he came in through the fence, and his UV flashlight only had a range of ten feet, so he had to run along the fence twice before he saw the glowing spot on the fence. He had wasted almost a minute finding his escape hole. As he slid backwards through the hole, he heard several vehicles coming up the Silicon Systems driveway. He risked a look and saw half a dozen men jump out of the cars and rush to the front door of the building.

Jack turned and ran through the brush to the hotel. Back in his room he stripped off the jogging clothes and put on his jeans and flannel shirt. With everything in the backpack he went down to his car in the parking garage, tossed the backpack in, and left. He didn't see or hear any police cars, which was good news, at least for now. If they were alerted he might have to worry about roadblocks. He joined the early commuters on the interstate system heading north and took I-80 toward Sacramento. There was enough traffic now that his vehicle would be just one of thousands headed to the California capital. His plan was to take I-80 all the way to Salt Lake City and stop for the night. Where he went after that depended on what he found in the stolen file.
Chapter 8

George Jenkins laid down on the couch in his Blackworth Security office for a short after-lunch nap. One of the perks of being the boss. Just as he got comfortable his desk phone rang. He thought about ignoring it, but he knew better. His assistant wouldn't have bothered him at nap time unless it was important. It might be some crisis with a client he would have to respond to.

He picked up the phone. "What is it, Joan?"

"Someone code named Hermetrius. He said it was urgent."

"O.K. Put him through . . . Hello sir. What can I do for you."

"I got an encrypted message for our man inside Silicon Systems earlier. Do you remember a mission named Shiloh back in 2012?"

"Yes sir, I do. We arranged for an FRA agent to plant a file for you in their records."

"Apparently someone broke in last night and removed the file. Only that file."

"What! How could that happen. And why that file?"

"Someone might be trying to sabotage our upcoming operation. Without that file in place to expose to the public at the right time, we can't pull it off. At least not on the schedule we laid out. The other five files won't be enough evidence. We were going to expose the Silicon Systems file to kick off the entire offensive on the election. Who would want to steal that file?"

George thought for a minute. "I don't know, sir. I didn't think we had any opposition. But apparently we do. Going after the key file definitely shows some knowledge of your plans."

"O.K. Let's ask who could pull off the theft. It wasn't someone from your Organization, was it? Another client you're working with?"

"Definitely not sir. I would never cross you! You have enough dirt on Blackworth Security to put us all in prison. You could probably have old man Blackworth exhumed and send him to prison, too."

"A mission like this would take some knowledge of Silicon System's floor plan and security procedures. They didn't break into anything – they knew the lock codes. And they must have had keys to the filing cabinets. Those cabinets have top of the line locks on them. They are supposed to be pick proof."

George search his mind. Oh no! "Sir, the only man I know who could get into the facility and file cabinets is the man who exchanged the files on the Shiloh mission . . . Jack Preston. He worked for the FRA for 30 years, but he retired six months ago, two months after his wife died."

"Well go grab him and let's see what he tell us."

"There's a problem with that sir. The Agency has had us keeping an eye on him for the past month. He lives in a cabin in eastern West Virginia. We had him under 24/7 surveillance until he disappeared two weeks ago."

"Yes, I know about that. The Agency is working for me on this. We tried to frame him for a . . . a felony when he was in the D.C. area, but he slipped away from our trap. How are you going to find him for me, George?"

"Well, we're following up on a lead. An email from an old high school girl friend. They exchanged a couple of emails before he left the cabin, so we're hoping he will show up there."

""Do you know where she lives?"

"Uh . . . we don't know exactly. We know her name is Lynn Martin, maiden name Spence, and she lives in mountain home up in the Rocky Mountains. Oh, and she's a redhead."

"Wow. With leads like that how can you miss." the caller said with a note of sarcasm.

"It's not as bad as it sounds, sir. Her name isn't that common. We've identified 23 women living in the U.S. Rocky Mountains with that name, and we have some agents trying to run down all of them. Even if we can't zero in immediately, there couldn't be many redheads among them."

"Natural redheads maybe, but it sounds like a good strategy. Maybe the emails sparked something that will draw him to her. Mr. Preston, and the file he stole, have to be found no later than the end of next week. Much sooner if possible."

"Yes sir, we'll do our best" but the line was dead already.
Chapter 9

Jack stopped at another Mom and Pop motel outside of Salt Lake City, one with concrete block walls. The excitement at Silicon Systems and the 12-hour drive from San Jose left him drained. After a quick shower followed by some Chinese carry out, he crashed for the next eight hours.

After he woke up he was ready to see what the file had in it that could possibly be useful two years later. The first thing he did was photograph everything and store it as an encrypted file on his computer. He also forwarded it to his home server to be stored on a hidden computer there. Then he went through it slowly, a page at a time.

It was a contract file for a major Government project, some specialized computer equipment. The first few pages were a statement of what the contractor, Silicon Systems, would deliver to the Government. The next section was the delivery schedule – 2,500 units delivered over six months. It must have been a big contract for the company. He saw just how big when he turned to the last Section – Project Accounting. The total contract was worth $45 million. It listed budgeted amounts, itemized expenditures, and overruns. A page titled "Special Expenses" completed the file. It listed six payments of $250,000 each to a single numbered account. This was interesting. Who was Silicon Systems paying off? Did some government official swing the contract award their way and this was his reward? The key was the numbered account.

Jack realized that if he did a search on the account number it might pop up a flag that would warn someone was looking. But if he changed the last three digits he might at least find out where the account was located. He went into Darknet and searched the modified number. It came back as the First Caribbean Bank of Barbados. Getting the name of the account holder would be a lot tougher. The IRS had a way to view those accounts secretly. He would have to go in through the Internal Revenue Service computer system and snatch the identity of one of their international banking investigators, then hack into the bank's computer system using those credentials. Jack knew from experience that he would have to hack into the IRS computer a little at a time, maybe over a day or two, to keep from being detected. Each time he went in, he would get a little deeper into the system, until he got what he wanted.

Two days later he had gotten through the IRS system and was ready to get into the bank records. He'd have to get in and out in a few seconds to avoid detection. His software would make it look like a short hiccup in the bank's computer system, but that wouldn't fool them for long. He set the software up and hit enter. Three and a half seconds later he had the account holder's name and shut all the doors he had opened in the IRS and bank computer systems.

He waited a few minutes to make sure some software wizard hadn't found a way to follow him as he backed out. He got away clean. His heart always raced on these forays into forbidden computers because the younger generation of hackers comes up with innovative and unexpected techniques every day. When the Government catches them it offers a deal – go to jail or work for us nailing other hackers. Someday one of the really bright ones was going to catch him.

Let's see who owns the numbered account . . . Whoa! It's Senator William Forsythe. He was the one getting payoffs - $1.5 million in all, still in the account – probably to steer the contract to Silicon Systems. So was this the fake information in the file he switched? He didn't see anything else that could be interesting to anyone. Bob said it was about the information in the inserted file, not in the file he extracted. Was this last page added to have something to blackmail Forsythe with? Or to discredit him? He was high on the list of contenders of the democrat presidential candidates for the upcoming election. If they – whoever is behind this – were going to use the file to put pressure on Forsythe, that made getting the file back essential to them. 'But why are they trying to frame me? What threat could I be to them?'

He needed to get back on the road and find a place to hole up. He couldn't go back to his cabin; they would have it staked out for sure. Maybe he could head up to Canada. No, they might have his picture at the border crossings. They probably had people at the airports looking for him too. He needed someplace remote with few people around. . . Lynn! If he could get himself invited to stay at Lynn's place in the mountains for a few days, he could hide out there and plan his next move. He would call her and set up a lunch meeting, then see where it goes. He pulled up Google maps on his laptop and checked the route to Telluride. If he left now he could get to Grand Junction, Colorado by sundown and spend the night there.

Jack loaded his stuff into the truck and did his daily sweep of the car for bugs. After he picked up breakfast to go from a drive through, and hit the road. He would be off the major highways, so that would help him stay out of sight. He didn't want to put Lynn in danger, so he had to make sure no one was following him.
Chapter 10

When Jack pulled into Grand Junction the sun was still up – he made better time than he expected, especially since he had to stay below the speed limit to keep from being stopped by a cop. He got a room at the Siesta Motel and stopped by the dining room for an enchilada dinner before heading for his room. He chose this place because he could get a room around back that would keep his truck out of sight . . . and of course because it had block walls between the rooms. He backed the truck up to his room so he could get into it quickly if he needed to. He only took the essentials into the room, but he wanted quick access to his arsenal, just in case.

It was time to plan tomorrow. He checked the Google map and found that the drive to Telluride takes about 2 hours, so if she wanted to meet him there for lunch he would have to leave by 9 or 10. He chose one of his burner phones and dialed her number.

She answered "Hello" and he said "Hi".

"I'm sorry, I don't recognize your voice. Who is this?"

"It's Jack . . . Preston."

"Oh, Jack, hi. I was hoping you'd call"

". . . Yep, it's me. . . I'm staying in Grand Junction. Do you have time to meet for lunch tomorrow?"

"Sure, I'd love that. Where?"

"Where is a good place for lunch in Telluride?"

"If you don't mind driving a few extra miles why don't you come up to my place? I could make us something. A salad or sandwich?"

That's what he was hoping for. "A salad would be fine. Should I bring some cold beer?"

"No, I have plenty of that. What time can you make it?"

"How about if I leave here about nine and get there when I get there?"

"That sounds fine. I'll keep an eye out for you."

"So how do I get to your place?"

"My place is five and a half miles north of town, on Gold Mountain Road. Take main street out of town, turn left on Gold Mountain, and take it to the end. I'm the only house out here."

"That sounds easy. See you around noon."

"O.K. Bye."

#

Jack rang the doorbell at 11:30. Lynn and a beautiful Irish setter answered the door.

"Hi Jack! You haven't changed a bit. I would have known you anywhere."

"You and I both know better than that. I've put on 20 pounds and lost half my hair. But you on the other hand . . ."

"Yeah, right, Jack. Come on in. I'll get the salad and beers out and we'll go out on the deck."

Jack studied her as she walked into the kitchen. In snug jeans, at T shirt, and a flannel shirt with the tails tied at her slim waist, she even more attractive than her photos revealed. But what struck him most was the way she carried herself – standing straight with her head held high. Her confidence in who she was showed through in every move.

When she turned around Jack looked away quickly. He didn't want to be caught admiring her. He shifted his gaze to the big picture window in the living room. "Wow, what a view Lynn. I like the view from my cabin, but this is a new level of majesty."

"You should see it in the winter. It's a whole 'nother world. I have Bud light or Coors. What will it be?"

"I'll try the Coors, and some salt for the salad."

They talked about how she got to Colorado from Coal Creek, her granddaughter, her ex, and her career before she said "O.K. Jack. You know everything about me. Let's hear about you."

He couldn't talk about his real career, so he started back in high school, talking about old memories; what he thought when he first saw her – a green-eyed redhead standing in front of the science classroom window, the sunlight filtering through her shoulder-length hair; how he admired her from a distance but his fear of making a fool of himself kept him from approaching her.

She asked if he remembered the movie they went to. He said he remembered sitting next to her with sweaty hands but couldn't remember a thing about what they were watching. She said the movie was "Love is a Many Splendored Thing" and she still loved to watch reruns of it.

He recounted more high school memories. The high school play they both were in and the laughs that went with it. Things that happened after she left for Florida. Friends they both remembered from Coal Creek. Lynn said she still chatted with some of them on Facebook.

Before they knew it three hours had passed and the sun was going down behind the mountain. "Sunset happens early around here because of the steep mountains and narrow valleys. We had better move inside soon, the temperature will drop like a rock once the sun's gone."

"I need to be going so I can get to town and find a hotel before dark. Can you suggest a good one?"

"Don't be silly, Jack. We're both adults; you can stay here. I have plenty of room. You can take your pick of one of the boy's old bedrooms upstairs. They have all the comforts of a hotel room – king-sized beds, TV's, a desk, and a private bath. There's internet available but I don't have Wi-Fi, so you'll have to connect to the DSL through an Ethernet cable."

"That's perfect. I don't like for my on-line work to be sent out on wireless radio signals. I'll go up and work for a couple of hours, then we can get together for some more reminiscing."

Jack connected his computer to the internet and started searching for connections between Senator Forsythe and Silicon Systems. It didn't take long to find several news photos of the Senator and the CEO of the company. There was one of them shaking hands in front of the new company headquarters, standing beside the computer system the Government was buying, and holding their clasped hands in the air during the Senator's last re-election campaign. He went back a few years and found pictures of them at social events and breaking ground for Silicon System's new San Jose headquarters building. So the connection between them goes way back.

Next Jack tackled the other five files on Steve Adkins' Ipad.

He started by listing all that he knew about them: Mission number, code name, lead agent, start date, and mission target.

What next? How about contacting the agents. He knew Richardson and Gutierrez from past missions they ran together, so he started with them. Whitepages.com gave him phone numbers of several with each name, so he narrowed it down to phone numbers in the D.C. area. He got a return on Alan E. Richardson, age 48, in Bethesda, Maryland. The age is about right. He remembered that he liked to be called Alan rather than Al, so he dialed the number. A woman answered:

"Hello"

"Hi, is Alan there?"

"Who am I talking with?"

"This is an old friend. We worked together at FRA a few years ago."

"Then you don't know. Alan died three months ago."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that ma'am. Please accept my apologies for disturbing you. Goodbye."

Well, he wouldn't find out anything there, so he looked at Juan Gutierrez. There were two of those in the D.C. area – a 33 year-old in Falls Church and a 56 year-old in Baltimore. The younger one definitely wasn't the one, and Baltimore was a pretty long commute to FRA, but he gave it a try. Gutierrez went by his middle name, Tom, so he would try that.

"This is Jack Preston. I'm looking for the Tom Gutierrez that works for the Federal Remediation Agency."

"Jack? This is Tom. It's great to hear from you. What are you up to now days?"

"I retired a few months ago, after Helen died. Didn't see a lot of reason to keep up the old grind. How about you?"

"Me and Alice retired two years ago. Moved into my parents old home in Baltimore after they passed away. I get itchy for something to do now and then. Our jobs kept the blood flowing and the mind stretching, so the change is tough to take."

"I do some occasional security consulting that helps out, but mostly I keep busy in my lab and workshop, creating neat things that no one has any use for."

"I remember all the spy stuff you invented for the agency. You kept us one step ahead of the opposition with electronic gadgets that they couldn't disrupt."

Yeah. . . There's not much of a market for that stuff in the real world, though. I did some of my own research outside the agency and patented some products that paid off well, so I don't have to live off the FRA retirement checks."

"Is this a social call, Jack, or is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually it's about a mission you did back in the spring of 2013 related to Wilson Aerojet. Does that ring a bell?"

" . . . Uh, you know I can't talk about that Jack. I should hang up and report this call to FRA security. . . ."

"Wait, Tom, hear me out. I'm not asking you about the mission, I just need something confirmed. I had a similar mission and I need to know if they were related."

"Why?"

"There's something unusual going on that may be about my mission, and I'm trying to sort it out."

"What's happening?"

"Someone has me under surveillance. I did some digging and found a possible link to an old mission of mine that hasn't been closed out yet."

"What do you want from me?"

"To keep you out of trouble let me pose a hypothetical situation and if it sounds familiar to you just clear your throat. Then we'll hang up. This hypothetical is about going into a defense contractor's facility to replace an existing file with another file. That's it."

Tom cleared his throat, said "Don't call again," and hung up.

#

Jack lay on the bed thinking about what he'd learned from Tom. At least one other mission had the same objective as his Shiloh mission. His next move would be to try to talk with the other three agents. They didn't know him, so it would be a lot tougher to find out what their mission objectives were. Right now he had no idea how to approach them.

He wanted to try one more thing before he joined Lynn downstairs. He hunted for Alan Richardson's obituary in the Bethesda newspaper. There it was. He scanned down to see if it would have cause of death. "Mr. Richardson was the victim of a shooting during a car jacking incident on August 8, 2015." Nothing more. So Jack went to the news reports for that date.

"August 9, 2015: Mr. Alan Edward Richardson was killed last night during a car jacking at the East Mall. Witnesses say that, as Mr. Richardson was getting into his car, two men forced him into the back seat of his car and drove off. It happened so quickly that none of the witnesses could describe the attackers. One of the witnesses called 911 to report the incident and police arrived within 5 minutes. An APB was issued for Richardson's car but the carjackers escaped. At 3:45 pm today his car was discovered abandoned in Rock Creek Park. Mr. Richardson's body was found locked in the trunk with a fatal bullet wound to the head. Police are searching the car for clues."

What were the chances that Alan was murdered during a random carjacking. Especially since Jack had some serious people trying to take him out. Was Alan killed because of his mission to Caspian Industries? Why would they go after him? Tomorrow Jack would look for news stories and obituaries for the other three Shiloh agents.
Chapter 11

Lynn called upstairs. "Jack, I'm having a drink before dinner. Are you interested?"

"I'm coming. What are you serving?

"My ex always kept a well stocked bar, so I can make you just about anything."

Jack walked into the kitchen. "How about a double Singapore Boxcar."

"What in the world is that?"

"I just made it up. You said you could make anything so I was testing you."

She laughed at that, pointed to the bar, and said "Help yourself."

"Well, bein' a hillbilly, I'm partial to moonshine, but I'll settle for scotch on the rocks. Can I fix you something?"

"I just drink wine most of the time, but on special occasions I'll have a margarita. A special occasion is whenever I fix Mexican food, which is about once a week. What do you feel like for dinner? I can offer some frozen Lasagna, chicken and noodle casserole, or steaks on the grill."

"Well it's probably too cold outside to be grilling, so how about the Lasagna?"

"Great. I'll preheat the oven, then we can go back to laughing at our teenage selves."

When Lynn returned from the kitchen she picked up the conversation where they left off.

"I remember when you and Carl made your own gun powder and brought it to science class. The teacher was afraid to set it off in the classroom, so we all went outside. You lit a long fuse and ran back. We all expected it to go bang but it just fizzled for awhile. You said it was because you couldn't find any bat guano like they used in the 1700's, so you had to use drug store chemicals."

"I got that recipe out of the encyclopedia. I was also supposed to roll it in a barrel after I mixed the ingredients, but I couldn't find one."

"Always the boy genius. I'm surprised you survived to adulthood."

"Just barely. I should have killed myself a dozen times. Carl and I got Mr. Dixon at the hardware store to give us his old neon sign. We pulled the high-voltage transformer out of it and made a spark generator – a 4-inch, 4,000-volt continuous spark ran between the two wires. Death was just a finger length away."

#

After dinner they relaxed by the fire with a cup of decaf. Lynn brought up Helen.

"I remember that you and Helen were going steady even back in 10th grade. How long did you two stay a couple?"

"Until the day she died. We stayed together all through high school and college, and got married as soon as I graduated from WVU."

Jack was quiet for several minutes after that.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I shouldn't have brought up Helen. It must still cause you a lot of pain."

"Yes it does. But it's getting better. I was really depressed for awhile, but I've started taking antidepressants and they're pulling me out of it. I worry, though, that when I quit the medication I'll fall right back into that black whirlpool unless I can find a purpose for my life – something to put some life back into my life."

They both got quiet and enjoyed the warmth of the fire for awhile. Then Lynn said

"I think I'll go to bed and read myself to sleep. If you wake up first, start the coffee. The smell will wake me."

As she headed for her room Jack went upstairs to his room. He thought about spending some more time on the computer, but he needed his brain to work on the problems in the subconscious mode before he made his next move, so he got into bed and tried to shut his mind down. He was out in 15 minutes.

Lynn tried to read her book but her mind kept coming back to Jack. It was one thing to have a husband leave but to have your wife die suddenly must be tough. She really enjoyed being with Jack, but she would have to pick her subjects carefully. She wondered if he's had any relationships since Helen's death. Not likely if he was depressed. Maybe he would open up to her and get some of the pain out.
Chapter 12

The next morning Jack woke up early and put the coffee on. He thought it was probably too early for Lynn to wake up, but five minutes later she was in the kitchen. She still had her flannel pajamas on with an old denim shirt to keep her warm. That was a nice look on her.

"How about some coffee?"

"I'd love it. Thanks. What would you like for breakfast? I make a mean breakfast burrito."

"That would be great. I haven't had one of those since I lived in New Mexico early in my career."

"So, tell me about your career. Where did you go after college?"

Jack had to tread carefully here.

"I went to graduate school and stayed on to do some research. That's where I developed some of the patents you looked up. After that I spent the rest of my career working for the Government as an engineer on several different projects that took me to other countries."

"That must have been interesting. Did Helen go with you?"

'Damn,' Lynn thought. 'Stuck my foot in my mouth again. I shouldn't have brought up Helen.'

"No, my jobs were always in remote places where she wouldn't have been comfortable. Besides, I worked 16 hours a day and we wouldn't have had much time together anyway. But most of the jobs were short, only a few weeks, so I had lots of time at home before the next assignment."

"You know Jack, I'm really enjoying our time together. How long can you stay?"

"I'm not sure. I'm planning my next consulting job. Maybe a few days, if that's alright with you."

"Great. Maybe we'll have some time for hiking. There are lots of trails around here."

"Sounds like fun. Well, I need to go upstairs and work for a bit. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

#

Jack started on the names of the agents from the last three files: James Foreman, Michael Nelson, and Harriet Goodman. On the wild assumption that whoever was after him might have killed other agents to eliminate evidence of the missions, he went back to the nationwide obituary search site and entered the first name on his list, James Kenneth Foreman, searching over the last 12 months. No hits on that one. Next was Michael Shawn Nelson. He got a hit on that one. And it was in the D.C. area –Bethesda. The obituary stated that he was 46 years old and survived by a wife and two children. He died two months ago, but it didn't say how he died.

Jack went to the Bethesda newspaper for the date of death and found what he didn't want to see. Nelson was hit by a car in a hit-and-run while Jogging near his home. The police said the car must have been travelling at least 80 miles per hour. The victim died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. That's two dead agents in the past few months!

The last one on the list was Harriet Goodman. It was time for lunch with Lynn. Harriet could wait until this afternoon. He closed his laptop and headed downstairs.

Lynn was out on the deck enjoying the view. "I'll put out some cold cuts and trimmings so we can build our own sandwiches."

They took the sandwiches and a couple of beers out to the deck and enjoyed some more reminiscing. Lynn admitted that she had a crush on me from the moment she laid eyes on me and I asked why she didn't tell me then. She said girls who took the initiative back then were "hussies", but now days it was more often the woman who made the first move. Then we talked about the differences between relationships then and now.

"That was a great lunch, Lynn. Let me clean up and I'll get back to work."

"Sorry, you're a guest. Guests don't work for the hotel."

"I've got to earn my keep some how. Maybe I can chop firewood later."

"That would be nice. See you for drinks before dinner."

#

O.K. Back to Harriet Goodman. There were no obituaries for someone with that name, so Jack did a white pages search in the D.C. area and got two hits. This might be easy. Both were in the right age range. Both lived in Virginia; one from Vienna and the other was from the upscale Woodbridge area. He tried the Vienna phone number first. A man answered.

A man answered. "Hello"

"Hi. This is David Hill. I work with Harriet at FRA. Is she available?"

"What's FRA? Harriet works for Bentley Investment Bank."

"I'm sorry, must have the wrong number."

Jack tried the upscale Goodman next.

"Hello"

"Hi. This is David Hill. I work with Harriet at FRA. Is she available?"

"This is her daughter. Harriet is in the hospital. My dad is with her because it's pretty serious."

"Oh. I didn't realize Harriet was ill."

"She isn't sick. She was in a car wreck."

Jack felt a chill up his spine. "I'd like to talk with her. Does she have her cell phone with her?"

"Yes but my dad has it in his pocket. The cell number is 571-864-1289."

"Thank you. I'll give him a call."

Jack gave some thought to how he should approach this call. If Harriet was able to talk, she would know that David Hill didn't work with her at FRA. He could pose as an auto insurance agent needing information about the wreck, but he didn't know what insurance company Goodman used. He decided to be Ken Johnson from the FRA personnel office. He dialed and mentally crossed his fingers.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is Ken Johnson from the Federal Remediation Agency administrative office. Who am I speaking with?"

"This is Rick, Harriet Goodman's husband."

"Mr. Goodman, I need to speak with Harriet briefly to confirm some details about a project she is working on. I have to assign it to another employee but I don't know the status of the project. Is she available?"

"She's not taking any phone calls right now. May I take a message?"

Jack thought for a minute. He needed to say something that would get Harriet's attention. ... Goodman's mission name – Shenandoah!

"Would you tell her it's about the Shenandoah project? Maybe she'll want to speak with me."

Jack could hear mumbling as Rick and Harriet talked it over. Then Harriet came on the line.

"Who is this! That project was closed out two years ago."

"No, Mrs. Goodman, it wasn't. That project and five others are still being held open, and two of the agents involved have been murdered recently. I'm one of the five and I'm being pursued by an unknown team that is apparently trying to kill me too."

"Are you serious? . . . Do you know why I'm in the hospital with six broken bones? I was driving home from work and two cars T-boned me from both sides at an intersection. My side air bag was the only thing that saved me. So it seems like they're after me too. What is this all about?"

"Can you switch your phone to encrypted mode?"

"Done."

"My mission and one of the others I've been able to run down involved replacing a folder in a Government contractor's files with a modified version of the file. Does that sound familiar?"

"That's exactly what my mission was. I broke into Energy System's headquarters and replaced a file. What was in the files we took?"

"It's what was in the modified files we left behind. I was able to get a copy of the file I left behind and a page was added to the end of the financial section showing large money transfers to an offshore bank account."

"That sounds familiar. I read both the original and the replacement files, and that last page was the only difference."

"Do you remember anything that was on that page?"

"I can do better than that. I have a photographic memory. What do you want to know?

"The number of the offshore account that received the transfer. And the amount."

"Let's see. It was $1.5 million sent to account number 4626-8962-3316."

"Great. I think I can track down who the money went to. In the meantime, your life is probably still in danger. Can you get some protection there in the hospital? I don't trust the FRA on this. I don't know how involved they might be."

"I can arrange for some professional protection until I can get out of here and into hiding. Can you tell me your real name?"

"I'm Jack Preston."

"The inventor of that neat gear we used in the field?"

"Yup. That's me. You take care."
Chapter 13

Lynn called Jack down for drinks and dinner. She tried to talk more about their lives but Jack was distracted and she could tell. "Something troubling you, Jack?"

"I'm sorry. I'm distracted by an ... engineering design problem. When I get stuck like this my mind won't let go. Let's bundle up and take our coffee out on the deck and just enjoy the beauty in silence." "Definitely. One of my favorite things to do."

#

By morning, after a couple of hours thinking through his options during the night, Jack had found a path for the day and was better company at breakfast. He told her about some of the crazy things he and Carl had done as kids. She commented it was a miracle they survived childhood.

"I didn't survive unscathed. I was always getting hurt and cut. I got my eyebrows burned off once. It was a good thing my dad was a doctor. No broken bones though – unless you count the time I broke George Davis' leg while we were wrestling in the back yard. How about you, Lynn?"

"I was a pretty wild tomboy who would try anything on a dare. I didn't have your luck with bones, though. I broke my collarbone going over the handlebars of my bike when I was riding down a steep hill. Then there's the time I reached into a groundhog's burrow and it bit me. I needed six stitches after that one. Look, I still have the scar."

"Yeah, I have a few of those myself. Not from groundhogs – but I do have one on my thumb from a pet flying squirrel I had. If we're going to count scars, though, I think I have you beat."

"We'll have to have to count each other's scars sometime and see who wins."

"I need to get back to work. It will probably take me most of the day to solve this problem."

#

Jack's first order of business was to see whose name was attached to the off-shore account where the money from Harriet Goodman's file went. The first four numbers were the same as the account form the Shiloh file he took from Silicon Systems, so the account would be in the same Caribbean Bank of Barbados. He would have to go through the IRS computer system again to get the account information. He used his custom-designed program to get into the IRS again, and then into the bank records. Just a quick in and out . . . but he couldn't get back out of the bank computer!

Something in the bank computer had locked his program in so it couldn't get back out. Jack quickly put extra firewalls in place to keep the bank program from following the link back to him, but the bank software was going through his firewalls as fast as he could put them up. Jack's internet connection was set up with a false name and IP address – one that actually belonged to a state prison computer in California – so even it they got through they couldn't identify him. But if they somehow saw their way through that, they could download everything from his hard drive.

He had a duplicate back up hard drive set up so, at any sign of break-in by hackers, his active hard drive would immediately crash . . . and that just happened! These guys were good. He disconnected from the internet, switched over to the back up drive, and ran diagnostics on his entire computer to see if they had time to plant any viruses or spyware.

It took almost an hour but his computer came up clean. He went into his emergency file and found another legitimate name and IP address to use. This one was from a bookie in Kansas City. Finally he reformatted the crashed hard drive and copied everything from the old back up drive to it. That original one would now be his back up drive.

The good news was that he got the account information out and saved it to a memory stick before they locked up his probe. He opened it up to see who was being framed for a payoff at Energy Resources. . . .

Just then Lynn knocked lightly on his door. He blanked out his computer screen and said "Come on in, Lynn."

"How did you know it was me?" she said with a laugh.

"Well, it had to you or the ghost from the attic."

"I've brought a tuna sandwich and a beer for you, if you have time. If not, I can put it in the fridge for later."

Jack was anxious to see the name on the account, so he asked her to put it on his desk.

She took the hint. "I'll leave you to your work. Let me know if you want me to bring dinner up later."

"Thanks. I should be done by then."

As soon as the door was closed Jack opened the bank file. The $1.5 million was credited to the account of Byron Snead nine months ago. Snead was Vice President of the U. S., and was going after the democratic nomination for president. Why were these men being framed? And with information that would stay in the file for years unless someone looked at it? And why would someone look at it? He needed to get in touch with more of the agents.
Chapter 14

Harriet told her husband, Rick, everything Jack had discussed. When she got to the part about her life still being in danger Rick went into his angry mode. It was his job to protect his wife, especially now that she was immobilized. "What kind of attack should we expect?"

"I have no idea. It could even be someone disguised as one of the hospital staff. We can't trust anyone."

"Well, we're getting you out of this hospital. We can't protect you here. But with your leg in traction and the IV in your arm, I can't see how we can transport you."

"Maybe not in an ambulance, but if we could get a van large enough to hold the bed with it's attachments, that would work."

"Who would provide your on-going medical care?"

"There's a private medical service the Agency uses to provide injury treatment for their safe-houses. I know the head man and I'm sure he'll help us out off the books. But where will we go, Rick. They'll be watching the house."

"One of the houses my real estate company is trying to sell has an attached garage large enough for the van. No one's living there now and I can put off any visits by prospective buyers, so we'll have it to ourselves. It's at the end of a deserted road, so we can move you inside without anyone wondering what's going on. We can't be too careful with these guys who are after you. You were lucky to survive that last attack."

"That sounds good to me, Rick, as long as I can get my pain meds."

"I'll tell the front office we are moving you to another facility and go rent the van. You call the medical team and ask them to meet us at the address I just wrote down first thing in the morning. I'll be back in 30 minutes or so."

#

It took Rick longer than he expected – almost an hour. He had to pay a deposit on the bed before they would let them take it. He pulled up at the hospital discharge exit and went up to Harriet's room. As he got off the elevator he heard something crash to the floor. It came from Harriet's door and her door was standing open. Rick ran down the hallway and burst into her room. A man was holding a pillow on her face and she had a grip on his windpipe with her good hand. Rick launched himself at the intruder and knocked him off the other side of the bed. He pulled the pillow off Harriet's face and looked in her eyes. She nodded at him just as the attacker jumped on his back and locked his arm around Rick's throat. He was being bent backward and couldn't reach the man's face to scratch his eyes. Harriet had taught him some self defense moves, but he had to get face-to-face with the man to use them, and the choke hold was cutting off his windpipe. He managed to get turned around so the attacker's back was toward the bed and pushed back as hard as he could. Maybe he could cause some pain that would make him let go. But it wasn't working. He was starting to see sparkles in his vision, which meant he had only a few seconds to get out of the choke hold. Suddenly the pressure released and the attacker let go. Rick fell to the floor gasping and saw the man's feet kicking hard. By the time Jack got his breath back and was able to stand up the kicking had stopped. He turned around to see that Harriet had wrapped the steel cable from the traction frame around the attacker's throat and was pulling as hard as she could.
Chapter 15

The next name on Jack's list of agents who had planted the files was James Kenneth Foreman. He tried a Whitepages.com search of the D.C area, but came up empty. He tried again using Jim K. Foreman but still got no hits. He expanded the search out to a 200 mile radius but still had no luck. Lots of James Foreman and Kenneth Foreman listings, but none with both names.

He thought about what other approaches he could try to get Foreman's information. If he knew what state he lived in he could hack the motor vehicle driver's license files, but it would take him several days get into all the DMV computers in the country. Maybe he could search the mid-Atlantic states and find something, but every time he hacked into any Government computer, the risk of getting caught increased. He would have to think of another way to get to Foreman.

Jack sat there thinking. The only agents left besides Foreman are both dead. Nelson's target was UAV Drone Products and Richardson's target was Caspian Industries. How can I get my hands on those corporate contracts files? I can't break into their headquarters like I did with Silicon Systems because I don't know where the files are kept. He went over his break-in at Silicon Systems looking for ideas. There was something tugging at his mind. What was it?

He had it! Silicon Systems was in the process of computerizing all their contract files. What if UAV Drone and Caspian Industries had already digitized their contract files. That meant they were in a database somewhere in the company computer systems and he could hack into them. He started with UAV Drones.

His first problem was to figure out a way to hack into the corporate computer system. He would need a master password to get into main system. He would also need the password of an employee, preferably someone from the contracts department, to open the file he was after. Master password first. He would need that to log in to their software system. He had an idea. It was a long shot, but it might work. First he went to their corporate web site and downloaded an image of their log-in screen. Then he went to the company's public web page looking for something that cited employees for outstanding achievement. He found several, including the Chief Financial Officer who won an award for 30 years of loyal service. Well, that might not last much longer. He went to the Blacknet to find a home email address for the guy.

Next, Jack wrote some interactive software script based on the company log-in screen and embedded it into an email to the CFO requesting that he log in now to receive some important information. Thirty minutes later the email was opened, and when the CFO clicked on the button in the email, it threw him over to Jack's phony log in script. When asked for the corporate password the man dutifully typed it in. His screen replied with "Sorry, we could not process that password. Please enter your personal password." The idiot entered his personal password – the one he used internally at the company – and got a screen that said "Thank you for your cooperation." and blanked out.

Jack was kind proud of himself for that little bit of genius. He'd have to file that in his memory for future use. So let's see where these passwords will get me.

In five minutes Jack was into the contract files searching for ... what? He couldn't go through all their files. He needed to narrow down the search. How about contracts over $15 million dollars – they certainly wouldn't pay large kickback fees for smaller contracts. Then he narrowed down the search to files that fit the timeframe of the mission. That gave him five files to go through. If they were like the other file folders, the bank transfers would be inserted near the end of the contract cost accounting section.

Jack found what he was looking for in the third contract file. A $3.2 million payment to account number 4626-9142-7988. That looked like still another offshore bank, so maybe he could get in and out safely. But he would have to wait for the peak transaction time tomorrow morning to keep his probe hidden. His stomach rumbled an alert that it was time for supper.

#

When Lynn saw him coming down the stairs she said "Well, you finally came out of your cave. I held off making dinner so it wouldn't get cold. I have a chicken and noodle casserole in the oven. I have a plate of crackers and cheese if you want to munch on something now."

"That sounds good. How about a vodka martini?"

"That's stronger than I usually drink, but if that's what you're having fix me one too."

Three martinis later , Lynn said with a smile "I'll get the casserole out for dinner. Any more of these and I'll lose my inhibitions."

Jack wondered if there was a not-so-hidden meaning in that comment. "Great. I'm starving."

They talked some more during dinner. Jack related how he and Helen came together in high school and stuck it out until they married after college. Jack had gone through Air Force ROTC in college, so he served four years an officer in the Air Force, where he was assigned to a research and development laboratory in Albuquerque. That work got the attention of a Government agency, and when his time with the Air Force was up, they offered him a job in their research department.

"What part of the Government did you work for?" Lynn asked.

He gave her the standard humorous answer designed to cut off further questions: "If I told you I'd have to shoot you." He laughed along with her.

After dinner they took hot coffee out to the swing on the deck and covered up with a blanket against the cold. The stars were out and, at this altitude, it seemed like every star in the Milky Way was an individual spot of light. Jack pointed out some of the constellations and the legends behind them.

Lynn thought about her next statement. Was it out of line? Too bold? She plunged ahead anyway. "Jack, we've been together a few days now and I think we've grown pretty close. How come you haven't made a move on me? Most guys would have tried something already."

Jack paused before he answered. "I don't make moves, Lynn. I never have. Helen and I dated for six years in high school and college before we got married. We had a very romantic relationship, even slept together a few times, but always with our clothes on. We both felt strongly that premarital sex was wrong and we never crossed that line until our honeymoon night. We didn't want to screw up what we had."

"There aren't many couples around today who would take that approach, Jack. Couples want to take a few test drives first. And for most, it isn't their first test drive. You and Helen must have had something special."

"We did. If young people could only understand how absolutely wonderful that first time can be if it's done as man and wife. For us it was a spectacular, soul-moving experience."

"My ex and I weren't that strong. We held out until our senior year of college, when marriage seemed a sure thing. The we got drunk one night and made love. In the morning neither of us could remember anything except that we did it. No memory of joy or ecstasy. It turns out the marriage got postponed when he decided to go to law school. Of course we kept doing it until the wedding. By that time there was nothing special at all about our wedding night. I didn't drink much that evening hoping it might be something special, but he got plastered. It was over in a couple of minutes and he rolled over and started snoring. That set the pattern for the rest of our marriage.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Lynn said "I'm going to clean up the kitchen and go to bed. I'll see you for breakfast?"

"Yeah. I'll be down early."
Chapter 16

"Stop, Harriet, don't kill him! We'll get stuck in an investigation for weeks. He's unconscious now. I'll drag him into a linen closet and tie and gag him. That should give us time to get you out of here. She released her grip on the cable and the attacker slid to the floor unconscious.

Rick stepped out in the hall and tried a couple of doors; both were dead bolted. Farther down the hall he found a locked door labeled MEDICAL SUPPLIES. Falling back on skills learned as a teenager, he pulled out a credit card, worked it between the latch and the door frame, and had it open in 15 seconds. He left the door ajar and went back for the attacker.

By the time Rick had him in the closet, the man was starting to wake up. He looked around for something to knock him out with, and found a bottle of ether on the shelf. It wasn't used as a surgical anesthetic anymore, but he could remember the doctor using it when he had his tonsils out at the age of five. He soaked some gauze with the strong-smelling liquid and held it over the man's mouth and nose. In 30 seconds he was out cold again. Rick put a pillow case over his head and closed the door. Back in Harriet's room he called downstairs for an orderly to help him get Harriet and the bed into the van, and asked to have her transfer paperwork ready at the patient exit.

A few minutes later Rick pulled out onto the street and headed for the vacant house they would hide out in. Harriet called from the back of he van, "You know this isn't the end of it, don't you? They will keep after us unless we can do something to expose the conspiracy."

"How are we going to do that?"

"I'm hoping Jack Preston has some ideas about that. I won't be back on my feet for another three weeks at the earliest, so you will have to do the travelling. I'll call Jack tomorrow and see what he knows."

An hour later Rick was pulling up to the vacant house. He went up to the front door, unlocked the realtor box on the doorknob, and let himself in. As soon as he had the garage door open, he drove the van in. When he opened the back doors and saw Harriet in the hospital bed, he saw where he screwed up. The hospital had a loading ramp to roll the bed into the van. Here in this residential garage, he had nothing.

He looked around the garage for something to improvise a ramp from. The previous owners hadn't left much behind. He went through the house for some furniture he could use, but there was nothing he could envision as a ramp, even if he dismantled it. 'What am I going to do. She can't stay in the unheated garage until the medical help gets here in the morning. Maybe there's something in the back yard.'

All he saw was a half-finished swing set. He looked at a stack of boards waiting to be assembled and found what he needed – some twelve-foot long, 2 x 10 boards. He went back to the garage, and taped the 2x10 boards to the bumper with a roll of duct tape he found hanging on the wall.

"This is going to be risky, Harriet. If I can't hold the bed back it's going to roll out into the street . Are you up for it.?"

"Have you ever known me to pass up a thrill? Go for it."

Ten minutes later Rick had Harriet installed in the master bedroom and flopped onto the bed to catch his breath. "I knew you could do it, sweetheart.. Now bring me my sedative medication so I can slow my heart rate down."
Chapter 17

Jack woke up thinking about James Foreman. There must be some way to find his phone number. How do private detectives search for someone they're after? Then he remembered Dave Cramer, old friend who left the FBI to go into the private detective business in Philadelphia. Maybe he could help. Jack found the name of Dave's firm online and gave him a call.

"Hi Dave, this is a voice from the past, Jack Preston."

"Hi Jack. It's great to hear from you! I heard you retired from the Agency recently. How are you doing?"

"I found a cabin on a lake in West Virginia with nothing but peace and quiet."

"You're a little young to just quit working. Ever thought about getting into the private business? I would love to have you on my staff."

Jack hadn't really given his future much thought. If he survived the threat he was hiding from, maybe working for Dave part time would keep him from becoming a vegetable.

"I haven't really given it much thought, Dave. I might be interested in working part-time in the future. But right now I'm working on something more interesting. I'm trying to locate a fellow who works for the Agency, or at least he did back in 2013, but I can't find an address or phone number for him. He may just use a cell phone because he doesn't show up on whitepages.com. Is there any way I can search cell phone numbers for him?"

"I can help you out with that. In the detective business we can get access to information like that, but it's not always legal. Law enforcement looks the other way on it, though, because sometimes they have to come to us for information they can't get at through official channels. We help them out at no charge because then they owe us a favor we can cash in sometime."

"Can you tell me how to get to this information?"

"No, we consider it a trade secret and keep it all to ourselves. Now, if you'll come and work for me, you will have access to most of our trade secrets. But for now, give me his name and whatever else you know about him and I'll see what I can do."

"It's James Kenneth Foreman. He was working as a field agent for the FRA in March of 2013, so he probably lives in the D.C. area, but that's all I know."

"Is he in some kind of legal trouble, Jack?"

"No, I just want to ask him about an old case."

"O.K. I should have an answer for you by tomorrow afternoon. I'll call you as soon as I find something. Then you can tell me if you'll accept my offer."

"Great, Dave. But don't push me for a decision on the job. I have some things I have to clear up first."

"Roger that, Jack. Bye."

#

Jack was out on the deck with his second cup of breakfast coffee when Lynn came out of her room. Jack noticed even with bed hair, she was still attractive. Jack was bundled up in his winter coat because the temperature had dropped 10 degrees in the past hour. Lynn opened the sliding door and stuck her head out.

"Brrr, it's cold out this morning. I'll go put some clothes on and join you in a few minutes."

"I'll make a fresh pot of coffee. I've almost finished the first one."

Lynn joined him shortly in a heavy sweater, jeans, and a sheepskin vest. "How long have you been up?"

"About an hour. I wanted to watch the sun come up over the mountain, but that hasn't happened yet."

"It will be past 10 o'clock before the sun hits the town on the valley floor. In a couple of months Telluride will only have five hours of direct sunlight a day. Doesn't give things much time to warm up. Sometimes the thermometer reads 30 below first thing in the morning."

"Well, at least the skiers will be happy. The diehard ones, anyway. Do you still ski?"

"My husband and I skied for over 10 years, both cross-country and downhill. The powder around here is perfect for cross-country skiing. I still go out in the morning sometimes if there's fresh snow and the weather isn't too cold. I ski the hiking trails."

"I have never tried cross country. Is it hard?"

"No it's just like going for a jog with sticks on your feet. If you've learned to keep your skis from crossing on downhill trails, cross-country is a piece of cake."

They watched the snow flakes falling for awhile. "It's getting colder. Have you seen the weather forecast for today, Lynn?"

"Looks like we're in for some heavy snow later today. Why don't you put your car in the garage so it doesn't get buried in snow.."

It was already snowing when Jack went outside and pulled his Sport Trac into the two-car garage. He took his sniper rifle and AR-15 assault rifle inside to protect them from the cold, and hid them under his bed where Lynn wouldn't see them.

#

Back at his computer Jack checked the news in the D.C area to see if there was anything about the murder victim at the Hyatt, but found nothing. He was clear of any criminal charges there and wouldn't have to worry about the police looking for him. Whoever was after him wanted to keep everything under wraps.

Before he could start on the new account number his phone rang.

"Jack, this is Harriet Goodman. I need to tell you what has happened here."

After she filled him in and Jack brought her up to date she asked "What can we do about this, Jack. We have to find some way to break this up."

"I'm still trying to find information on some of the other files, Harriet. Give me a few days and I'll call you back."

"Well, whatever you decide to do, I'm in on it. I'll be laid up for awhile but I can go anywhere I want on my computer and phone. My husband, Rick can take care of any leg work you want from our end."

"I'm glad you survived the attack, Harriet. Put a gun under your pillow in case they try again. I'll keep in touch."

#

It was time to find the name on the account number he had hijacked from UAV Drone Products. He went through the procedure he had used for the other two account numbers and got back out of the Bank's computer system without any problems. The account number belonged to Edward Ford, Secretary of State – another democrat running for president!

'Three democratic candidates were being targeted with fake money transfers to overseas banks. What's going on here?' Jack thought through a couple of scenarios before he came up with a possibility. What if, at some point in the presidential campaign, word of the payoffs would be leaked to the press. Government investigators would go into the files of the companies involved and find the evidence. The candidates would not only be discredited, but they would be arrested and charged with taking kickbacks. It would destroy their careers and probably ruin their lives unless the source of the phony files could be identified.

So why would someone want to get some presidential candidates off the democratic ticket? ... To give other candidates a better chance of winning. Or even better, to get a particular candidate nominated! If they can discredit all the candidates but one, their man is guaranteed to get the democratic nomination.

As Jack thought about it, he realized something was missing in his reasoning. If all the candidates but one are forced to drop out, it will be obvious to everyone that it's rigged. The only way they could pull this off is to discredit them one at a time and have another candidate step into the race to take their place. And the replacement candidates would have to be people that no one would vote for – buffoons, with no charisma, that couldn't debate their way out of a paper bag.

At this point it was only a theory, but it scared him. If he was right, there were six candidates who could be ruined. But even with no-win candidates taking their places it would still look suspicious. What was he missing?

That's it! If they waited until most of the state primary elections were over, there will only be one or two at the top of the list along with their chosen candidate. They only need to discredit the leading candidate or two. The rest will be eliminated in the primaries. And they can time the release of the fake bribery news to make close rivals lose a key primary or two just before the nominating convention, so their boy would be the only choice.

A memory flashed through his mind. Where had he seen this kind of plot before? A movie? The Manchurian Candidate! The nominee is about to announce his acceptance at the convention when a sniper in the projection booth gets him in the crosshairs of his rifle scope. The plan was for the second-place nominee, a man hand-picked by the Chinese communists, to step up to the podium and give a brilliant speech that would give him the nomination. But the shooter breaks free from his hypnotic programming just in time to shoot that guy instead of the nominee. This is the same story except with political assassination replacing the sniper.

'O.K., how can I prove my theory? Get more evidence. Find out who is targeted in the remaining files. Let's see if I can get into Caspian Industries contract files as easily as I got into UAV Drone's computer system.'

Jack tried the same approach he had used for UAV Drone. He made a fake corporate sign-in screen and looked online for someone to sucker into giving him the passwords. He found that they kept their employee list under wraps, and found none of their publicity releases included individual's names. He did a web search on the company name and found the same results – no mention of corporate officers or employees names. This was the kind of thing that companies doing top secret government work do routinely – put up a wall to minimize contact with the outside world. If Caspian was closed up that tight, their computer system would be impenetrable, especially to a personal computer hacking attack. He would have to give up on getting the account number planted in the Caspian files.

He thought about what he could do while waiting for Dave Cramer to call back with information on Foreman. 'What if I listed all the prospective democratic presidential candidates and tried to find a link between them and the companies that had their files raided? That might be useful, even for the missions of the dead agents.'

He went to Fox News online and found a list that gave the three candidates he had already found – Snead, Forsythe, and Ford – among the top five choices to win the primaries. The other two candidates in the top five were a senator and a congressman.

Jack started with the senator, entering his name and Caspian Industries as the search terms. No link between the two showed up, so he widened the search to include all news stories for the past ten years. Still nothing. He got the same results for the congressman.

'So much for that idea,' he thought. 'What next?' Just for something to do while he was thinking Jack got a list of the top Republican candidates and did searches for links between each of their names and Caspian. On the third candidate down the list he found something. Eldridge Franklin, a billionaire corporate tycoon, had close ties with Caspian Industries. Their connection went back 15 years when Franklin married the Caspian CEO's daughter. Shortly after that, Eldridge arranged to have a large Government contract awarded to Caspian Industries. So if the pattern he found with the three democratic candidates held true, somewhere in Caspian's contract files there was probably a sheet showing the transfer of large sums to an offshore bank account in Eldridge Franklin's name. Wait a minute! Eldridge was a Republican candidate! That didn't match his theory about forcing democrats out of the primary race. Back to the drawing board to find another theory about what's going on.
Chapter 18

Cramer called right after lunch. "Here's Foreman's cell phone number and address. You ready to write?" Jack dialed Forman's cell number. It rang eight times and went to voice mail, so Jack left his call-back number and asked Foreman to call him back ASAP.

He was still at a dead end with Hermetrius. Who could he be? Or she? Or was it a "they," an organization. There has to be some record somewhere. There were hundreds of search engines, each with access to their own set of databases. If he could just find the right one that would have something on Hermetrius. Jack made a list of families of databases – political, criminal, news stories, public figures, movie and music personalities – none of those seemed likely. If this person or organization is involved in organized crime, there might be something in the federal law enforcement files – the FBI. Or, what about the drug trade? That would be in DEA records. If they're into arms dealing the ATF might have something.

But to search these databases Jack would have to hack into all three of the agencies. Their computer systems were among the most secure in the world, but Jack thought he might be able to get into them. It would be extremely risky, though, and he didn't want to do it using Lynn's server. If they found a way to trace it back he didn't want to get Lynn arrested. His answer to that was to run the hacking attacks through his main computer back at his cabin. He had his server set up to bounce internet links around the world a few times before connecting to the end target. If he limited his attacks to a few minutes each time, their counter attacks couldn't get through all those paths in time to get back to his cabin computer. But he would have to write some more custom software, and that would take a few days at least. Maybe he could get some help from his contacts on the Blacknet. He needed more time to think about that, but his thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringtone. "Hello"

The man at the other end asked "A call from this phone was received by Jim Foreman's cell phone earlier today. Who am I speaking with, please."

"I'm a colleague of Jim's from work. Is he available?"

"And what is your name, sir?"

"Alan Richardson." Without time to think Jack gave the name of the dead FRA agent.

"And where do you live, Mr. Richardson?"

"Bethesda, Maryland. What are all these questions about. And who am I speaking to?"

"This is Lt. Xavier Rolle of the Nassau, Bahamas Police Department. Mr. Foreman died yesterday in a boating accident."'

Jack played the role of a shocked friend. "Oh, no! Was his wife with him?"

"No, she was still at the hotel. Mr. Richardson went out in a small sailboat alone."

"How is his wife taking it? Will she be coming back home soon?"

"No, she will have to stay here for several days until the coroner is finished with his examination and the body is released."

"Thank you, Lt. Rolle. Please give my condolences to Mrs. Foreman." That put a whole new twist in Jack's investigation. Now he had no way to find the account number from the file Foreman planted. It wasn't a major setback, but it left another hole in the list of targets this conspiracy was after.

Jack heard the new email signal and saw one from Lynn. She was downstairs. Why would she send an email?

Hi Jack,

Since I am having trouble getting much time with you in person I thought I'd fall back on our original form of communication. With all the time you're spending upstairs, you must be into some really interesting consulting stuff. It would be nice to know more about your work, but I'll respect your privacy. But I'm curios as hell, and when I'm stuck in my curious mode, I snack all the time. So if you keep this isolation up, you'll be responsible for my weight gain and eventually, my early death from heart failure caused by obesity. Can your conscience handle that?

Maybe if I tell you some of my secrets you'll open up more. I grew up a tomboy, climbing trees and hoping the boys would look up my skirt so I could have a reason to beat them up ... which I did frequently. By the time I was 12 I found myself attracted to a 14-year-old boy and wondered what it would be like to kiss him. When he asked me to go for a walk in the woods I thought 'here's my chance.' The kiss felt nice, but he didn't want to stop there, so I had to beat him up. I swore off boys after that ... until I got to college and they started to look more like men. I dated around in my freshman year but stayed chaste ... not an easy task. The summer before my sophomore year I read up on sexual relations between men and women., When school started in the fall I looked for someone to practice on, and met Brad. He not only was easy to please, but knew how to take his time and please a woman. I think he spoiled me. I met my husband the next year, now my one and only ex, and the rest is history. Maybe someday I'll find another Brad.

Five years ago I spent two nights in the Denver slammer. A cop pulled me over for a dead tail light and told me to get out of the car. When he tried to hit on me I got him in an arm lock and brought him to the ground. The judge apparently didn't believe me, so he sent me to jail until he could review the video recordings. Two days later he put the officer on suspension and brought me out to apologize in the hope that I wouldn't sue the city. I didn't. But I found out the cop was married, so I sent in a couple dozen catalog request cards for sex toy companies and subscribed to four of the dirtiest sex magazine I could find under his name and address. His wife won't be speaking to him for quite awhile. Later, I thought I should have sent him gay men's magazines, but I'll save that for the next cop who gets fresh with me. Other than that, my record is pretty clean.

My dad took me deer hunting for the first time when I was 13, and I bagged my first deer the next year. I learned to shoot just about anything – pistols, shotguns, high-powered rifles, assault weapons. And, not to be bragging, but I'm pretty damn good with all of them. I've never had the chance to use them in self-defense, but I wouldn't mind the opportunity ... just to see the other guy's face when I split the seam on his crotch with a shot.

Maybe I've had a couple of drinks too many. I'm holding supper whenever you're ready.

Go Coal Creek Catamounts!

Lynn

Jack was smiling when he finished reading. It sounds like she needs some company, so I'll go downstairs for dinner ... after I answer this email.

Sorry I've kept myself isolated, Lynn. I've been working on some pretty heavy stuff with big consequences if I can't head it off. I'd like to be able to talk it over with you just to get a different point of view on what I think is happening, but just like the old movie line, "if I told you I'd have to shoot you."

I'm on my way down now.

Jack
Chapter 19

"I'm in the middle of making a chef's salad for supper, but when I heard my computer ding, I couldn't wait to read your email. Wow! You are definitely not the mild mannered engineer I thought you were. So what do you really do? Tell me just enough so you won't have to shoot me."

"Well ... I retired from an unnamed Government agency – no, not the CIA, FBI, or NSA – where I handled certain 'accounts' ... that's what I'll call them for now. I recently found out that one of my accounts from a couple of years ago hasn't been closed out by the Agency as it should have been when it was completed. I'm trying to figure out why it's still open. I also found five similar accounts from other account managers that are also still open long after the work was completed. There may be something bigger going on, but I can't figure out what it is."

Lynn looked at me wide eyed and almost choked.

"You're putting me on! Just trying to impress me to get me into bed!"

Jack thought 'I wish. No cancel that thought. I don't want to go there. ... well, yes I do, but that's for another time.'

"It's the honest-to-God truth, Lynn. And I could use your help trying to figure all this out."

"Let's have dinner while I think about this and get over the shock."

#

They sat out on the deck with their after-dinner coffee and bundled up together under a heavy comforter. Lynn started the conversation.

"I'll need to know more before I can offer any good suggestions. Tell me about the other five accounts."

"So far, I've been able to get some details about three of the others. They were almost mirror images of my account. ... Oh, crap! Let me drop the charade. I wasn't an account manager, I was an agent for the unnamed agency. It was my job to find out what illegal activities certain companies or foreign governments were involved in, and then use behind-the-scenes actions to expose them or shut them down. I'm not James Bond, I don't assassinate people, and I don't drive an Aston-Martin sports car with rotating license plates."

"Do you carry a Walther PPK pistol?"

"Damn, you got me there. But only when the mission calls for it."

"Holy shit!! Scuse my French. You're the real deal! I've got a real live spy living under my roof."

"Those of us in the business prefer 'Secret Agent Man.' No, I'm not a spy. I'm more like an investigator."

"Right. One who carries a Walther sidearm."

"O.K. Time to get back to the problem. I need to figure out how the five unterminated missions are connected."

"What were the objectives of your assignment, and the other five?"

"I'm getting into dangerous territory here. If I tell you, you could be investigated by the Government. Are you sure you want to continue?"

"Jack, you've got me hooked, and now you want me to back out? No way."

"Alright, here goes. The missions, at least mine and the others I've gotten information about, were to break into major defense contractor's facilities and exchange a file folder for one already in their contracting files. The inserted file folder contained false information showing transfers of large amounts of money to offshore Caribbean bank accounts."

"Whose accounts were they?"

"That's the weird part. The three I've positively identified so far are leading contenders for the democratic presidential nomination. The implanted files make it look like the candidates accepted kickbacks for getting big contracts awarded to the winning firms. But it was all fiction, very well organized fiction. The amounts of money – millions of dollars in each case – were actually transferred to offshore bank accounts in the Caribbean opened in the name of the democratic candidates."

Here's where Jack wanted to see what conclusions Lynn would draw from these facts. Would she see it from a different point of view than he had come up with?

Lynn thought for a few minutes. "We need to ask ourselves who could benefit from this information becoming public. At the top of the list is anyone who would want to eliminate these candidates from being nominated, and at the top of that list would be supporters of the only candidate with no incriminating files. Who would that be?"

"I don't know yet. I need to find out who the other three files are linked to. But I also have tentative information linking a republican to one of the companies."

"So how can you get the information from those other three files?"

"I'm working on it. I was on the trail of one of them earlier but I was interrupted by an email. I'll get back to it in the morning."

Lynn laughed. "Sorry about that. I was just trying to get your attention."

"Yes you were, and you did."

"How do you get from an account number to the person who owns the account."

"You don't want to know. If I told you that I would really have to shoot you."

"Well, get upstairs and get us another name."

"I'm enjoying this too much. The new name can wait until tomorrow.

"Ohhh, that's sweet. I'm a little chilly, snuggle closer."

They watched the moon come up over the mountain top for awhile. Then Lynn turned her face toward his and asked Jack to kiss her. Jack sorted through the thoughts bouncing around in his mind at light speed – another A.D.D. gift – and turned his face toward her in response.

It was a brief kiss – long enough to cause some tingle but not so long it got out of hand.

Jack thought, 'It wasn't one of those magic kisses you see in the movies, but it felt very good.'

Lynn thought, as she felt the warmth rising within her, 'This is just like the first kiss in a love story! Wow, did that feel good.' She pulled away and laid her head on his shoulder. She needed a couple of minutes to get her emotions under control.

They sat there like that for awhile longer. Jack thought 'I need to get away from this, or my body's response will lead me into something I'm not ready for.'

"That was nice, Lynn, but I had better go to bed before my libido takes over."

"Would that be a bad thing, Jack?"

"I'm not ready for anything more right now, Lynn. I hope you understand."

#

Lynn lay in bed thinking about the kiss ... and her physical response to it. She had worried whether her body's sexual feelings would be shut down after such a long draught, but now she knew the answer!

It took Jack awhile to get to sleep. He was surprised at his response to Lynn's kiss. After Helen died he lost all desire. It's like his urges had just crawled into a hole and covered themselves up. They were trying to surface with Lynn this evening, but he wasn't sure he wanted them to reappear. Somehow it seemed like cheating on Helen. He drifted off to sleep thinking about the highlights of his life with Helen.

#

Breakfast was uncomfortable for both of them. They both wanted to talk about last night but neither wanted to be the one to bring it up. After some small talk Jack said "I'm going up to see if I can get the name of another victim of the phony files. I'll let you know as soon as I have something."

#

Jack thought over what he had so far: three candidates linked to fictitious kickback information, three dead agents, the attempted murder of Harriet Goodman, and a possible connection between a republican candidate and Caspian Industries. Maybe with this new evidence he might get Tom Gutierrez to open up.

"Tom, it's Jack Preston again."

"I told you not to call again. I'm hanging up.

"No Tom! Hear me out. Your life might be in danger!"

"O.K. I'm listening. You have 30 seconds."

"Go to encrypted mode. Your phone may be tapped."

"...What have you got?"

Jack explained about the dead agents, the attempt on Harriet Goodman's life, and about the fake financial records that might be used to frame key presidential candidates. He asked Tom if he had any idea what was in the records he replaced at Energy Resources.

"No, I just went in, replaced the specified file folder, and got out. I don't know what was in the records."

"Well, be alert. I think someone is trying to eliminate the agents who ran those missions to cover up all links to the files. Have you seen anything suspicious?"

"Nothing that caught my attention, but I'll stay on high alert. If I see anything I'll sneak up on them with my sidearm and scare the crap out of them. Maybe I can get them to talk. I'll let you know what happens."

"Good. But don't trust the FRA. I think they might be involved."

"That's good to know. Thanks, Jack."

With Gutierrez unable to help and Foreman dead Jack couldn't come up with any other options. It was time to bring Lynn back in to see if she had any ideas. He went downstairs and found her on the sofa reading.

"Hey, I need another brain on this. Have you got some time?"

"Your spy stuff is way more interesting than this love story I'm reading. What do you need."

"Here's what I have so far. I have three democratic candidates being set up for something. I have tried to find the account numbers in the three planted files, but I've run out of ideas.

"Which defense companies were involved? Do you have that information?"

"Yes, and I have the names of the agents who planted those files."

"Well, contact them and ask what was in the files they planted."

"I've tried that and it's not so simple."

"Why isn't it as simple as it sounds, Jack?"

"None of us knew what was in the extracted files or the replaced files, so the agents wouldn't know what we're after." Jack was getting a little uncomfortable. He couldn't tell her what was next.

"Well, how did you get the information you have now?"

"Long story, and one you shouldn't know. But I've explored all the options I can think of to get at the other files."

"Something seems a little off here, Jack. What aren't you telling me?"

"This is serious stuff, Lynn, and if I tell you too much your life could be in danger."

"From who? The ones behind this conspiracy? Why should I worry about them?"

"I can't tell you that, Lynn."

"Now you're making me mad, Jack! My life might be in danger and you can't – or won't – tell me what you know. Let me know when you're ready to tell me the rest."

Lynn stomped off to her room and slammed the door.
Chapter 20

Lynn's response made Jack a little angry himself. He was just trying to protect her, but he couldn't tell her why or from what. She has no idea that there are people out there looking for me with the intent of eliminating a potential witness to their conspiracy. If I tell her about that, she'll really freak out. And right now, isolated up here in this mountain valley, it's the safest place I can be. I'd better see what else I can find out before she says 'hit the road, Jack.'

Jack thought it through one more time. 'What about Hermetrius, who seems to be calling the shots here? But I want to exhaust all my other leads before I stir up that hornet's nest. There are two files left that I need to see – the file that Jim Foreman planted at MTX Military Systems and the one Tom Gutierrez planted at Energy Resources. Foreman was dead and Tom was a dead end. ... or maybe not. What if he and Tom could break into Energy Resources and get the offshore account number. That's all they would need. Quick in and out. But Tom didn't seem interested in helping out here. I'll give him another call and tell him my idea.

"Hello, Tom? This is Jack."

"Jack. I'm glad you called. I need to update you on the situation here. Are you encrypted?"

"Yes."

"Someone tried to plant a bomb under my car. I use the latest monitoring sensors to detect any suspicious activity around my property and car, and early this morning my phone alerted me that someone was messing with my wheels. Rather than confronting them, I watched as they attached a bomb under the chassis, then I went out later and disarmed it. It wasn't anything sophisticated, just a simple home-made device that police would attribute to some terrorist group. They also planted a tracking device and a cell phone trigger mechanism, so apparently they wanted to wait until I drove the car out somewhere before they set it off through the cell phone."

"So what's the status now?"

"I disconnected the cell phone trigger and drove the car around for awhile. When I stopped in a shopping mall parking lot, the phone rang. No one was nearby, but if the bomb had gone off several cars would have been damaged."

"How will you protect yourself from another attempt, Tom?"

"I've taken a leave of absence from work and moved my family to my sister's house in Wisconsin. I'll stay here at our house and take my chances. My best chance to get a lead on these guys is to be the bait."

"I have an idea to talk over with you. I need to get a look at the file folder you planted at Energy Resources. The way I got the number from my planted file was to break back into Silicon Systems to get a look at the contract file. I really need the offshore account number from the file you planted, Tom."

"Hey, I'm no dummy. I can put two and two together. You want me to break back into Energy Resources and get the account number for you."

"Yeah, that's what I was hoping for. You wouldn't have to go in alone – I'll go with you."

"If it will expose whoever is behind this, I'm in, Jack. But you stay home. If you get caught you're the only one who knows what this is about and we can't risk that. Energy Resources is a pretty small company with weak security, so it shouldn't be too hard to get into. Give me a day or two to plan it and I'll call you back."

"Thanks, Tom. You were my last hope on this."

#

Jack's stomach rumbled and he realized that Lynn was probably leaving him on his own for lunch. So he headed downstairs to find something in the fridge and see if Lynn had cooled off yet.

He got the silent treatment as he rummaged through the refrigerator for the makings of a sandwich. He took the sandwich and a beer and sat down across from Lynn.

"It's not that I want to keep secrets from you, Lynn, but if I tell you the whole story, you will be in even more danger than you are now. I'm just trying to protect you from these people."

Now she was bristling again. "What makes you think I need protection?... Are you a good shot, Jack?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty good."

'O.K., go get your Walther PPK and meet me out back. We'll see who needs protection."

By the time Jack got out in the back yard Lynn had some targets tacked up on trees. And they weren't bulls eye targets, they were human silhouettes with small scoring rings on the head, the heart, both shoulders, the knees, and a hand holding a gun.

"You first, Jack. Start with the one on the left. Seven shots, one at each scoring circle."

Jack emptied his Walther at a steady pace, putting bullets in all seven scoring rings. Lynn stepped up using her 9 mm Glock and did the same to the target on the right. They walked up and compared hits. Lynn's were all within a half-inch of being dead center, while Jack's were all off by an inch or so. Lynn gave him a dirty look.

"O.K. Now let's do rapid fire. Five seconds to empty your clip. Here's the stop watch. I'll go first this time."

BAM, BAM, BAM ... seven shots in 4.2 seconds. "Your turn."

Jack got his seven shots off in 4.8 seconds.

When they compared hits Jack's were all a little off again.

"You bastard. You let me win! And here I was thinking about letting you win so I wouldn't bruise your ego. Let's go at it one more time, all out. The best we can do. Loser makes supper."

Jack went into his crouching stance and fired off seven rounds in just under four seconds.

Lynn took a profile stance and repeated her 4.2 second performance. They went up to the targets to compare accuracy.

"Damn, Jack. All yours are less than a quarter-inch off center. I did a little better than before, but you're the best shot."

"Lynn, if you miss by half an inch, you haven't missed what you were shooting at. The effect on the body will be the same as a dead center hit. So what's for supper?"

"You won, you get to choose."

"Can you fry chicken?"

"Damn, there you go insulting me again. I'm from mountain country West Virginia, what do you think? I can wring their necks, pluck 'em, gut 'em, and fry 'em up."

#

Over dinner, Jack started at the beginning of his story, leaving only a few things out. He thought when he told her about the dead agents and his close calls she would tell him to leave. He should have known better.

"A couple of question, Jack. Do they know you're here with me?"

"No, I got free of them when I left San Jose. I kept doubling back and checking all the way to Colorado, and I'm clean."

"Is there any way they can find out where you are? Like trace your computer IP address or cell phone?"

"No, I have a dozen screen names and IP addresses, all of them hijacked from real people and Government agencies. They would go nuts trying to find me that way. As for the cell phone, I have a box full of prepaid burner phones, with no name or address attached to the phone number. They're untraceable."

"I feel safer already. Do they have any reason to know that I exist and know you?"

"I don't think so. They may have been eaves dropping on my emails before I ran them off from my cabin, but none of our first couple of emails gave anything away about you. After that, I was travelling when we exchanged our other emails so they couldn't have seen those. "

"So where do we stand now, Jack? Any luck with those other two companies?"

"I have one of the other agents helping me out on the company he planted a file in, but the other agent is a dead end – literally. The agent was killed in a boating accident in Nassau yesterday."

"Would he have a copy of the planted file at his home?"

"No, these operations were classified, so he wouldn't have kept a record."

Lynn paused. "Did you keep paperwork on of any of your classified missions?"

"Well ... I did on some of them. Most of the agents keep a private CYA file – cover your ass file – in case the agency tries to pin the blame on them for mission failures ... So maybe Foreman does have a copy of the planted file at his home! I need to go there and look for it."

"When do you need to leave, Jack? Can you stay a few more days?"

"No, I have to leave tomorrow. His wife has to stay in Nassau until the autopsy is finished, and I need to get to Foremen's home in Fredericksburg, Virginia before she gets back."

Lynn's face fell with disappointment, but Jack was so excited about the opportunity to look for Foreman's CYA file that he didn't notice.

"So we're pretty close to putting the plot together, but what do we do then?"

"Once I leave there won't be a we, Lynn. I have to do it on my own. If they catch you they'll use that as leverage to get me to surrender."

"O.K., what will YOU do next?"

"I've been thinking about that, but I don't have an answer yet. The key to this is Hermetrius, and he could be anyone inside or outside the Government. I'll know more if I can get the name on the MTX account at Foreman's place."

"What if you just made all we know public?"

"Since I only have the Silicon Systems file in hand, it would be easy for them to destroy the other deposit evidence, including the offshore accounts, as soon as someone gets wind of what we know. They know about my break-in to get that file, so they would just claim I added the last page and, with no corporate file left to prove what we say, we'd have nothing to support our claims. It's a tough problem."

"Well, let's get our minds off the problem for now. How about a glass of wine in front of the fire, Jack?"

Jack remembers the kiss last night and doesn't want to go there again tonight.

"I shouldn't, but that fire looks so inviting. Let's do it."

Lynn remember the kiss and hopes they have a rerun tonight. "I'll get the wine and glasses."

They sat in front of the fire and talked for a time.

"Tell me, Jack, after all this is over what do you see yourself doing?"

"Well, if I'm not dead or in prison, I'll probably go back to my cabin in the mountains."

"After all this excitement, do you think you could go back to just sitting on the front porch?"

"Maybe not. This is the first time I've ventured out of my cocoon since I retired. And I kind of like it. How about you? What are your plans?"

"I think I'll be a spy. I love this stuff."

#

Back at Blackworth Security George Jenkins was having a conference call with his men out in Colorado.

"Have you found the woman we're looking for yet?

"Nothing so far." Frank told him. "But we're near the end of the list of women named Lynn Martin, so it should only be a couple more days."

"How sure are you that you haven't missed her? That she's on the list of those you already talked to?"

"Of course we can't be sure, but we are actually going to their homes and talking face-to-face with the women. We tell them we're from the Census Bureau and need to clear up some information in our records. We're looking for some non-verbal response that would indicate she's hiding something. We're also looking for Preston's vehicle parked at their homes."

"Look! Our client on this project is really putting the pressure on me. I need an answer ... soon."
Chapter 21

When Jack woke up it was snowing lightly. The weather report said heavier stuff would follow. Jack went down to the kitchen and started the coffee. He turned on the news channel to see if there was anything he should be concerned about, but it was mostly about the presidential candidates. The republicans had another debate last night and the talking heads on the news were adding their biased comments about who came out ahead. Usually this didn't interest Jack, but now he needed to keep track of who the front runners were. There was a large field of candidates and the voter approval ratings were changing every day, so it was still a little early to guess who would float to the top as the primary elections drew near.

"Good morning, Jack. Did you sleep well?"

Jack turned to look at Lynn and saw she was still in her nightgown. It was nothing revealing – just a full-length flannel granny gown with butterflies on it – but it caused a stir in Jack's mind. He could almost imagine what she would look like without it.

"I did. Did you have sweet dreams?"

"Yes I did."

"What were they about?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. You've got secrets and I've got secrets, and last night's dreams are my secret."

"Now you have my imagination working overtime."

"Then I had better put some clothes on. After that I'll fix breakfast.

#

After breakfast Lynn and Jack took their coffee into the living room. As they sat down a black car pulled up in front of the house. Two men got out. One walked toward the door and the other was taking a hard look at the garage.

Jack went into action. "This is not good, Lynn. Dump our coffee in the sink, hang the cups back on the rack, and look like you're washing the dishes."

"What's going on, Jack!"

"Later! Right now they can't know I'm here. You're here alone and never heard of me. I'll go hide in the bathroom."

She dumped the coffee, threw a dishtowel over her shoulder, and waited for the door bell to ring. She let it ring twice and shouted "Just a minute" and told O'Malley to stay in the kitchen.

She opened the door a crack and said "Yes?"

A young man with a clipboard held an I.D. card up to her face said "I'm from the U.S. Census Bureau, ma'am. We're following up on last spring's census and I have a couple of questions to ask you. May I come in?"

"No, my dog Jasper hates men. I think it started when my husband ran off."

As if right on cue O'Malley came tearing out of the kitchen and up to the front door barking ferociously. Lynn slipped outside and closed the door behind her. "What do you need to know?"

"Well, the census surveyor left some things blank when he visited you, and I need to fill them in."

Lynn thought 'He's lying, I used the mail-in census. But I'd better play along.'

"Like what."

"I need your place of birth, how long you have lived at this address, and your maiden name."

"I don't see any reason why the Government needs that information just to count heads, but I was born in Colorado Springs. I've lived at this address for the past three years, and my maiden name is Phillips. Is that everything?"

"Yes, I believe that takes care of it. Thank you ma'am."

Jack came out and watched them drive back toward Telluride. Then he looked out the back window to see if there was anyone else out there. After he was satisfied he went back into the living room to face Lynn.

"What the hell is going here, Jack? Who were those people and what did they want. They seemed awfully anxious to get into my house."

"This all started when I stumbled on a surveillance team that was watching my cabin. I got rid of them but they followed me when I drove to Washington D.C. to investigate the loose end. They set up a trap to make it look like I committed a crime. I found some new information there and managed to lose them as I headed west. For some reason, I've become very important to them, and they're trying very hard to find me."

"So how did I get in the picture, Jack?"

"It's possible they were intercepting my emails at the cabin and got your name from the first couple of emails you sent. The only other information in the emails was that you lived in the Rocky Mountains. They have no idea I'm staying here, but since I left them no leads at all, they must have decided I might try to contact you. If I were them I'd be looking at everyone named Lynn Martin in the rocky mountain area, but there are bound to be several other women with that name in the area. I guess they came up with this census trick to check them all out, mainly looking for evidence that I might be staying with one of them. . . Wait! They must also have your maiden name from your second email, and it's not likely that there's anyone else named Lynn Spence Martin in the area."

"No, I haven't used my maiden name since I got married. I sign everything Lynn Martin. And I told them my maiden name was Phillips."

"That will make it harder for them, but as badly as they seem to want me, they'll keep investigating all the Lynn Martins. You're the only hope they have."

"Jack, who the hell do you think you are getting me caught up in this! Why did you lie to me – again! I was starting to warm up to you, but this is too much. I want you out of here ... today!"

"You're right, and I'm really sorry. I knew I had gotten away but I didn't think of the possibility that they would try to locate you."

"Am I in danger, Jack?"

"Probably not, but I can't be sure. Once they go through all the Lynn Martins in the Rockies, they will probably prioritize the list and start double checking. And since you didn't let them in, you're probably high on the list for checking more closely."

"That's just great!!"

Jack looked for a way to defuse her anger so they could talk rationally about their situation.

"By the way, you were really good at putting off the guy at the door. You gave him nothing to go on. Did you train O'Malley to come at a stranger like that?"

"Yes. He's trained to do that whenever I call him Jasper. When he hears that name he starts barking and runs to my side looking mean. But quit trying to change the subject."

"Lynn, we need to make some decisions – quickly – and I need you to be calm and rational for that."

"O.K. So whoever is after you is now after me, too? I still want you to leave, but not right now. When you think it's safe for me, then you can go."

"Well, the best thing for me to do is sneak out of here and let them see me somewhere else. But if they even suspect I might have told you any of this, you're in as much danger as I am."

"Well shit, Jack! What are we going to do now."

"Have you got somewhere away from here you can go that they can't connect with you?"

"No. And in spite of what I said, I don't want you out of here ... at least not without taking me along."

"That may be our only choice – for us to leave here and find somewhere else to hole up for awhile."

"Good. I need a road trip. Where are we going?"

As soon as I hear back from Tom about the last bank account we'll have a better picture of what we can do next."

"Who's Tom?"

"He's one of the five other agents who exchanged some files. Tom's target was Energy Resources. He's going to sneak into the company tonight and get the offshore account number from their contracting records."

"That's risky, Jack. What if they're waiting for him."

"It's a risk Tom is willing to take. The people who are after us, the bad guys, planted a bomb on his car. He disabled it and found out that it would have blown up when he stopped at a shopping mall.

"Oh my god, Jack! That's terrible! People could have been killed. What if he had his family with him."

"Tom believes they were tracking him, maybe from the air, and chose that spot because no one else was around."

"Why would they do such a thing!"

"Because if they keep taking us out one at a time using a similar method, someone will get suspicious. But if Tom's death looks like a terrorist act, then it will break the pattern. I'm going upstairs and plan our departure."

#

"So here's the plan, Lynn. Let me know what you think. We'll pack up my truck and your Jeep so we can leave here as soon as it's dark enough. We may have to leave earlier if the snow starts to get too deep. Do you know a way to get us out of here the back way, over the ridge to Silverton so we can pick up the highway to Grand Junction?"

""I've already been thinking about that. Here, look at this Forest Service map. . . . We can take this hunting road from behind my place up to Forest Road 172, then connect with F.R. 113 that goes through this pass to F.R. 241. That will take us right down into Silverton. From there we can take U.S. 550 over Red Mountain Pass to Grand Junction."

"How deep does the snow have to get before they close the pass?"

"They have huge trucks with snow blowers on the front. Once it starts snowing they'll run them continuously as long as they can. But sometimes in a blizzard they don's have enough visibility to see the road so they close the pass."

"What are the chances that this storm will bad enough to close the pass?"

"It doesn't usually happen this early in the winter, but the weather service said this storm is going to dump two to three feet of snow before it leaves tomorrow afternoon. It will be risky."

"We'll have to chance it. If we stay here they might show up at any time."

#

By four that afternoon they had everything packed. When Jack brought his rifles out from under the bed Lynn looked surprised. "Why did you bring those in the house? Did you think we would need them?"

"Mostly I wanted to keep them from getting too cold to function, but I wanted to be prepared in case we needed to defend ourselves."

"So you knew from the moment you walked into my house that we could be in danger! You could have said something like 'Let's have lunch, Lynn and oh, by the way, can I came fully armed.' I just don't know if I can ever trust you Jack . . . What's that sound?"

"It's a motor of some kind. Maybe a snowmobile?" Jack peeked between the curtains and saw two snowmobiles at the edge of the trees. One of them had stopped and the driver was looking at the house through binoculars. "They're here already, Lynn. I can only see two of them, and I don't see any guns, so they may be just the scouting party. I think they'll wait for dark to make a move on the house, but they will be watching us."

"Should we leave now, Jack? Before they make their move?"

"Not unless we see more of them. I want it to be dark enough so they don't see us going up the hill to the hunting road, and snowing heavily enough to cover our tire tracks pretty quickly. If we time it right, the snow will be deep enough to keep them from getting up here with their Suburban, but not too deep for the Jeep and my truck to get over the ridge to Silverton. Do you think you can get us up to the first forest road without headlights?"

"I know the road pretty well so I think I can do that, but we'll have to take it slow. Do you want to eat before we go?"

They ate some sandwiches and made a couple of extra to take with them. Lynn filled two thermoses with hot coffee and they sat down to wait.

#

The snowstorm hit with full force about an hour later. It wasn't dark yet, but with the visibility through the snow limited to a hundred feet or so, Jack decided it was time to go. They bundled up against the wind, put O'Malley on a leash, and quickly went to the garage. Jack had pulled a couple of walkie talkie headsets out of his truck so they could carry on a running conversation between the two vehicles. Jack opened the garage doors so Lynn could bring the Jeep and Truck outside, then he closed and locked them. With Lynn leading the way, they headed up the slope. Jack had to stay close behind her just to see the Jeep. The Jeep's tires spun a couple of times, but the four-wheel-drive on both vehicles was keeping them moving.

Jack heard Lynn through the headset: "We're turning right onto the hunting road now, Jack. Are you still with me? I can't see your truck."

"I'm right behind you, but if I lose sight of you, I'll let you know."

It took 30 minutes to get to F.R. 172. They could finally turn their headlights on, and the road was wider than the hunting road, which made Lynn's navigating job easier. Two hours later they finally found the next forest road. Lynn had to get out and dust the snow off the sign to be sure it was the right one. The snow was up past Lynn's knees and falling faster than ever.

As they climbed the last forest road the jeep was having trouble making much headway through the snow. Jack thought about taking the lead, but the Jeep's snow tires were better than his all-season tires. Jack was worried about what would happen if the snow stopped them completely. They would probably freeze before the night was over.

"Jack, this is Lynn ... over."

"I'm here. ... over. We can do away with the pilot talk – over, roger, out, and all that."

"Hey, stop being a party pooper. I was having fun with it."

"Roger that. So what's up?"

"Other than the fact I have to pee, I'm not sure how much farther the Jeep can keep going in this snow Jack. But there's nothing else to do but keep going until we can't. If we freeze to death up here, at least I'll get to die in your arms."

"Always the romantic, Lynn." Jack saw Lynn's Jeep drop lower in his view. "What's wrong! Are you off the road?"

"No, it's good news. We're starting downhill into Silverton. We should get a little help from gravity now."

The snow wasn't as deep here. They were on the leeward side of the mountain and the wind was blowing the snow straight out from the ridge. Forty minutes later they rolled into Silverton.

"Great driving, Lynn. Let's see if we can find a gas station so we can fill up and you can pee. O'Malley probably needs a walk also. I don't want us or our vehicles to be seen together, so you get your gas and your other business done, then leave and wait for me up the road. I roll in a few minutes later. Do you have some cash for the gas? I don't want us to use credit cards – at least not our own."

"I have enough for a tank of gas and a cup of coffee, Jack, but that's about all."

"Whenever we stop for the night I'll give you some more money. I always travel with lots of cash so I have access to money when I need it. One of the first things police do when they are trying to locate fugitives is to monitor their bank accounts and shut down any transfer that looks suspicious."
Chapter 22

They made it over Red Mountain Pass just before it closed and continued on to Grand Junction. They chatted now and then on the walkie talkies just to keep each other alert.

"Where do we go from Grand Junction, Jack?"

"We'll get on I-70 east through Denver and drive until we're too tired to keep going. Then we'll find a local motel and get some sleep."

"Will we get a single room or two Jack?" Lynn asked suggestively, with humor.

"We'll check in separately to separate rooms so they don't see us together."

"How about adjoining rooms?"

"No, they would figure that out and know we're together."

"Well ... can I at least come to your room for awhile to cuddle?"

#

They drove for another 11 hours, stopping for gas, restrooms, and walks for O'Malley, before they had to stop for the night in Salina, Kansas. Jack led them a few miles off the freeway to a local motel. He drove on past and stopped up the road with Lynn right behind him. Jack gave her $300 and told Lynn to put on a hat to cover up her red hair and go check in. He waited several minutes and did the same. His room was four doors down from where Lynn was parked, so he didn't expect to hear from her tonight.

He stripped down to his boxers and tee shirt, brushed his teeth, washed his face and fell into bed. Then he heard he voice over the headset on his night table: "Come in Jack, come in Jack. This is Red Fox One ... over." He sighed and picked it up. "What's up, Red Fox?"

"Can I come over and play? ... Just kidding. I would like to see you for a few minutes before we go to bed. We haven't seen each other all day." Jack answered "Ahh ... O.K. But make it quick because I'm fading fast. I'm in room 124."

Lynn took a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair. She put on some flannel pajamas, sneakers, and a parka, and headed to Room 124.

She quietly turned the knob and pushed the door open. There was Jack, sprawled on the bed in his T shirt and boxers, sound asleep. She turned to leave, but thought 'If I cuddle up for a few minutes, he'll never know.' So she pulled up the blanket to cover him and crawled in herself. She softly cuddled up and pulled his arm around her shoulders.

Jack awoke promptly at seven, stirred by his internal alarm clock. Like most people in a strange bed, it took him a few moments to remember where he was. That was when he felt Lynn cuddled up to his back, sound asleep. He was about to jump up and scold her, but this felt so nice he decided to enjoy it for awhile. The next time he woke he felt her stir against him as she tried to sneak out of bed and return to her room. He let her get as far as the door before he said sternly "And where have you been all night, young lady."

"Oh! You scared me Jack. I thought you were still asleep. I'm so sorry. I just meant to snuggle up to you for a few minutes but I fell asleep."

"And I didn't even get to enjoy it! Were you just going to sneak out and never tell me?"

That got Lynn flustered. She didn't know if he was mad at her or not. "I ... uh ... I probably would have told you someday, Jack."

"Well, to be truthful, I woke up an hour ago and just laid here and enjoyed it."

"In that case, why don't I just slip back under the covers and ..."

"Oh no. It's not like we're naked, but it's too close++ to that for me. Go back to your room, get dressed, and let's get on the road. We'll find get some fast food at a drive-through on the Interstate. Don't forget your walkie talkie and your hat. We'll talk when we're back on the road."

"You mean when we have a safe distance between us."

Before they left Jack got into the bed of his truck and pulled out a forged driver's license, license plate, and registration to match the name and description of a real person. He had to go through several in his stack to find one who looked enough like Linda to pass. He gave Lynn the driver's license and registration. It wouldn't match her driver's license name, but they would have to take their chances with that. Jack drew up a handwritten bill of sale for the Jeep, and signed a phony name. If they got stopped Lynn would say she just bought the Jeep.

When they were back on the Interstate Lynn called on the headset. "Where to today, Jack, over ... I love this spy stuff!"

"We'll continue on I-70 to Indianapolis. It's about a nine-hour drive, so we won't get in too late."

#

Just before they hit Indianapolis, Jack repeated the procedure from the night before, looking for a local motel a few miles from the Interstate. Lynn called him on the headset.

"You just passed a small motel back there, Jack. What was wrong with that one?"

"It didn't have block walls."

"What's that got to do with it?"

"I'll tell you the story someday" Jack said with a grin that Lynn couldn't see.

They found another that met Jack's criteria a couple of miles farther on and went through the separate check-in procedure. While Lynn was checking in and walking O'Malley Jack went to get some carry out for supper. He called her a few minutes later on the headset and told her to wait until it was dark and come to his room. When she got there he had his computer set up and was looking at some maps. She came over and stood behind him, looking over his shoulder at the screen.

"What am I looking at here, Jack?"

"This is our destination, at least for now. A neighborhood in Fredericksburg, Virginia. I'm going to break into that house right there and see if I can find James Foreman's CYA file with another offshore account number. This alley that runs behind it will make things a lot easier." He switched from map view to Google Earth view and the neighborhood sprang to life. "And over here is a public park. We'll park your Jeep there and take O'Malley for a walk – around the block and up the alley."

"Now you're freaking me out again, Jack. Fill me in."

"That's all. On the walk with O'Malley we case the joint, see how I can get in, and look for someone else watching the place. I'll come back after dark and break in, look for Foremen's CYA file – if he has one – and bring it out with me."

"Where will I be while you're risking your life?"

"I haven't decided on that yet, Lynn."

"I'd better be there right there beside you! This is my first chance to be a spy and I don't want to miss it."

#

Just before Lynn went to her room for the night, Tom Gutierrez called.

"I've come up with a plan for getting into Energy Resources, Jack. The approach I used the first time won't work because they have upgraded their security. This time, I'll go in the front door with a forged copy of an employee's badge who is on vacation. I'll go in near the end of the work day, and disappear at closing time."

"What about security cameras? Won't they see you sneaking around the hallways?"

"I got a copy of their building plans from city hall and found a place to hide down the hall from the contracts department. I hacked into the security camera control system and I can blank out specific cameras with my smart phone as I move past them."

Lynn said "What about the door lock to the contracts department?"

"I've been monitoring the overhead security camera as a few people punched in the combination, so I have that covered."

"It sounds like a good plan, Tom. Call us as soon as you get back out and let us know how it went."
Chapter 23

Tom Gutierrez walked into the employees entrance to Energy Resources and up to the turnstile. He ran his forged ID card through the slot. There was a pause, then a red light started flashing. The security guard stepped up and said "Excuse me sir. Having trouble with your badge?"

"It would appear so," Tom answered.

The guard told him to try it again and again the red light flashed.

"I'm sorry sir, you'll have to step over to the security desk."

Tom's mind was racing. 'What did I do wrong' he thought. The card was a perfect forgery, including the information on the magnetic strip. He started to sweat as he moved up to the security desk. "There seems to be a problem with my ID card. It won't scan properly."

"Let me have your card and I'll check to see what's wrong." The guard ran the card through the scanner on his computer. Tom leaned over to one side with his elbow on the counter to get a peek at the computer screen. There was a photo of the employee whose card he forged! He had picked an employee with physical characteristic similar to his, and had added stick-on long sideburns to match those of the employee. He even bought a pair of glasses that were an exact match. Was his disguise good enough up close? He was only three feet from the guard.

"Mr. Walker, according to this you are supposed too be on vacation until Friday."

"Yeah, I had to come back early. My supervisor called and told me to 'get my ass back here ASAP' to deal with a production problem. So here I am."

"Who is your supervisor?"

Tom almost panicked. He had looked up the supervisor's name, but was the guard going to call him to check his story? Tom gave him the name and crossed his fingers.

The guard picked up the phone and dialed a number. Tom got ready to run for it if necessary. "Mildred, this is Fred down here at the security desk. I've got an employee, ID number 2007-237, who returned from vacation early. Would you please update his record to show he's back at work? . . . O.K. I see the change now. Thanks. It will let you through now, sir."

"Thanks."

As soon as he was inside he went up to the second floor to the supply closet he planned to hide in. He pushed a preprogrammed button on his smart phone to blank out the security camera while he slipped inside. He jammed a wedge in the door just below the lock so if anyone tried to open the door it would seem like the dead bolt lock was engaged. He sat back in a corner against some shipping foam and took a nap.

#

Lynn asked Jack if he wanted to come back to her room for a glass of wine. He was trying to think up an excuse when she said with a laugh "Come on, I promise to be a good girl, Jack."

Jack did enjoy being with her but didn't want things to get past his defenses . . . and he wasn't sure how strong those defenses were right now. "O.K., but I'll hold you to your promise."

In Lynn's room they sat on the couch with a glass of wine in their hands. Things were quiet for a few minutes – more of that discomfort they felt the morning after the kiss.

Lynn broke the silence with an irrelevant question. "Do you know all that secret agent Judo stuff, Jack?"

"It's not really Judo. It's a combination of the best parts of hand-to-hand combat from several different disciplines, including bar room fighting when it's needed. Judo and the other formal fighting disciplines have rules, moves, and counter moves that have to be followed in a defined pattern. You can't reach out and poke your Judo opponent in the eyes."

"How about special weapons, like knives, nun-chuks, and garrotes?"

"I've had some training in those areas, but it was mostly about how to defend against them using my hands. Before I retired I was required to keep my training current in those things, but since then I've let it slip. The theory is that the training makes our moves automatic – pure reflex – but I don't know how long that lasts. Hopefully it's like riding a bicycle – the muscle memory never leaves."

Another silence. It was Jack's turn to fill in the gap now. "Will your ex-husband be concerned with your absence?"

"No, the only time he calls is when he wants to come up and ski, or go elk hunting. He only skis over the Christmas holidays."

"Did he remarry after you split up?"

"No, he's feeling his oats, going through a series of bimbos to regain his youth. If they're looking for a good time in bed, they're wasting their time. I wonder what his Cialis bill is?"

Jack replied with a smile "Cialis? What's that?"

"You can laugh now Jack, but there's some Cialis in your future."

Another silence . . . "I have to admit, Lynn, that you cause a physical reaction in me . . . and an emotional one. Maybe when all this is over, we can do something about it. For now it's just a pleasant feeling I get sometimes when I'm with you."

"I'll bet my 'pleasant feeling' is stronger than yours."

"You're probably right about that, Lynn. I still have some lingering feelings that I'm being unfaithful to Helen because of my feelings for you. I know that sounds irrational, but feelings are hard to rise above."

"I'll be patient, Jack. I think we have a future together, and I'm willing to wait for that. ... Now come over here and kiss me!"

Jack wrapped his arms around her and they shared the best kiss yet. After that, Lynn turned and snuggled back into his arm, enjoying the result of the kiss."

#

They were awakened by Jack's cell phone ringing. "Hello? . . . Hello?"

He heard a whispered answer "Jack, this is Tom. I think I'm about to be caught by Energy Resources security guards. I got a look at the file, but I don't think I can get it out. If I don't get away, here's the off-shore bank account information: $2.8 million was transferred to account 4705-45912-8875. I'll call if I get away. . . . Oh-oh. Here they come." And the connection broke off.

Lynn pulled herself up out of a sound sleep just as Jack was saying "Tom! ... Tom! ... Shit, I lost him."

"What's going on, Jack? Was that a call from Tom? What did he say?"

"He got inside the Energy Resources contracts files and found the one he had planted, but the security guys were closing in on him. He gave me the account number and the transfer amount but then I lost the connection. I hope he was able to dodge them and get away. If he can, he should call me back soon."

After an hour he and Lynn drifted back to sleep.
Chapter 24

One of the richest men of the country picked up the phone and said "Get me George Jenkins at Blackworth."

"Hello George. I haven't heard from you in a couple of days. What's going on in Colorado."

"Uh . . . We had a problem there. Just when we were closing in on them they bolted in a snow storm and we lost them."

"You What!! Where are they now?"

"We don't know, sir. But we have a couple of ideas about where he might be going, and we have those staked out."

"I'm not a happy man, George. How about the mission to take out the other two agents – Gutierrez and Goodman. Are they put to rest?"

"Uh . . . Not exactly, sir."

"Have you screwed that up too, George? You know that I can put a comment in the right ears and your Government contracts will disappear. And I'm getting close to my limit on this. Do you have any clue where these two agents are?"

"No sir. We made a second move on Goodman while she was in the hospital but she got away and put one of my operatives in the hospital. As for Gutierrez, we got a shot at him with a car bomb, but he disabled it and disappeared."

"George, you've got 48 hours to take them out! After that, I'm going to another agency."

George replied "Yes sir, I'll keep you updated daily" before he realized the man had hung up on him.
Chapter 25

They woke up at six a.m. Jack disengaged himself from Lynn, went to the lobby, and brought back some bagels, bananas, and fresh coffee from the breakfast bar. They watched the news while they ate.

"Jack! Look at that! That's you! On network news!"

Jack got a sinking feeling in his stomach. The bad guys finally released the information about the Alexandria Marriott killing.

". . . And in Alexandria, Virginia the police have released the name of the prime suspect in a murder at the Alexandria Marriott last week. His name is Jackson Preston, a former member of an unnamed Government agency. Police believe he has fled the area and could be anywhere in the country. They urge people to keep a look out for him. He's considered armed and dangerous."

The only break Jack was getting here is that the photo they showed of him was from 15 years ago. He had aged quite a bit since then and his hair had turned from dirty blonde to mostly grey. He would have to get some stage makeup to change his appearance – glasses, cheek fillers, and all-white hair. In an effort to lighten the mood he turned to Lynn and asked "Does any of my blonde hair still show?"

"No, it's fifty shades of grey," she answered with a smile. "What are we going to do, Jack? If even one person recognizes you, the game is over."

"You're right. The 'armed and dangerous' part means they will have an excuse to shoot on sight. We need to get out of here, now! From now on, you will have to do all the motel checking in and food and gas purchases."

Jack thought for a few minutes. "O.K. here's what I think we should do. You'll take your Jeep out this morning and buy a tow bar for it. Go to a U-Haul for that and get one that will clamp onto my rear bumper. From now on we'll both travel in my truck with the Jeep in tow. I'll ride in the back laying down with a pile of clothes that I can pull over me if I need to. Go to Goodwill and buy a bunch of clothes about your size and style – like you are traveling with all your possessions in the truck. How does that sound?"

"I think it will work, but what if I get stopped and they want to look in the rear bed?"

"All my weapons are hidden under a false bottom. But pick up three or four large suitcases at Goodwill to throw in the bed. Next, go to a theater supply shop – we'll find a local one on the internet before you leave. Buy an assortment of disguise items for me – moustaches, bushy eyebrows, adhesive, white wigs, and face putty. If they ask you what you need them for, tell them your husband is playing Einstein in a stage production up in Chicago."

"Damn you're a fast thinker, Jack. All that in less than a minute and a half."

"That fast thinking has saved my ass more than once, Lynn. Now get dressed and go get what we need. I'll wait here in your room until you get back and I can get the disguise in place."

#

It was almost 11 a.m. before they were ready to leave. While Lynn was out, Jack had gone through the IRS into yet another Caribbean bank, and found that the account number Tom had given him was in the name of Gov. George Gentry, the Republican Governor of Texas. Another Republican! Jack would have to revisit his theory to see how this fit in.

With his Einstein disguise in place, Jack lumbered out to his truck with Lynn right behind. Jack got into the front seat beside Lynn in the drivers seat so their departure wouldn't draw attention. When they got on the Interstate he would climb into the back seat and lay down in Lynn's pile of clothes. He looked back at the pile and saw Lynn had picked mostly sexy nightgowns and evening dresses, with some lingerie thrown in for good measure. She wasn't going to let up on the hints, was she.

"Where to, Jack?"

"I'd like to stay off the Interstates but we can't get the Foreman's place in time if we do that, so we'll only travel during peak traffic hours to hide in the herd. The best approach is for us to take I-65 to Louisville and then pick up I-64 through West Virginia to Charlottesville. That's close enough to Fredericksburg that we can run our intrusion operation out of there. I'm going to go snuggle up with the lingerie and nightgowns back there and see if I can dream some sexy dreams. That is what you had in mind, wasn't it?"

Lynn laughed in response.
Chapter 26

Gutierrez was worried. He was trapped in the back corner of the contracts file room and there was only one door. 'I can hear the security guards coming down the hallway, so I must have set off a silent alarm of some kind. I've got to get out of here!' He looked around and saw an open door to the copier room, so he ducked into it and locked the door behind him. Dead end! He took a few seconds to pull the SIM card out of his cell phone and grind it and the phone to pieces with his heel.

He thought he was trapped until he recalled some of his FRA training and looked for an open wall. He tapped back and forth to find the studs, then launched a wicked heel kick into the space between them. The sheetrock crumbled. A couple more kicks and he had a hole large enough to get through. Then he repeated the kicks on the inside of the sheet rock from the room next door and climbed through the hole. He emerged into a long conference room with a door at the far end. He ran to it and opened the door a crack just in time to see four security guards rush into the contracts room. He look the other way down the hall and saw a green exit sign. He made a dash for it and got into the stairwell before anyone saw him. He took the stairs six at a time – another trick they taught at the FRA training academy – and got to the ground floor emergency exit. He smiled as he thought 'I made it.' He opened the door and came face to face with a security guard with a drawn pistol.

"ON THE GROUND FACE DOWN, NOW! HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD."

Tom complied.
Chapter 27

Lynn was making good time on the way to Charlottesville. They talked back and forth about their kids, their careers, the firsts in their lives – first kiss, first straight "A" report card, first spanking, first time staying out all night – and what they had to face from their parents afterward, their most embarrassing moment, (for jack it was when he peed in his pants in first grade, for Lynn it was when her swim suit top came loose at her 15th birthday party), the lowest point in their lives, the greatest emotional high they experienced, and their biggest disappointment. Anything to keep connected. They drove on in silence for awhile. Then Lynn said "uh oh. I have a flashing light behind me. You'd better cover up."

Lynn pulled over to the side of the road and waited for the policeman to approach her car. She rolled down the window and said in her most flirtatious voice "Was I speeding, officer?" as she smiled up at him.

"No ma'am. Actually your were under the speed limit." He made a point of looking into the rear seat, then turned red from embarrassment when he saw the nightgowns and lingerie. He asked for her driver's license and registration.

"Are you moving somewhere Miss Nicholson?"

"Yes, I'm going to live my sister in Char . . . Charlotte, North Carolina. She says there are lots of eligible men my age there."

The officer puffed up a bit at this. "I wouldn't know about that, miss. The reason I stopped you is the brake lights on your towed vehicle don't seem to be working."

"I probably didn't plug them in right. I am clueless when it comes to electrical things. Let me get out and check the connection." as she started to open the door.

"No ma'am. There's no need to get out. I'll check it for you."

He walked to the back of the truck, bent down and wiggled the connector. "Try it now, Miss Nicholson. . . That's got it . It's working now. You're good to go."

Lynn pulled out slowly and merged into traffic. "You performed wonderfully, my little coquette. You had him wrapped around your little finger." Jack said.

"I've always been able to switch into my charmer mode easily, but I don't like to do it. It's not fair to men – they're helpless against my feminine wiles."

"I'll have to remember that. I can't recall any woman who had that power over me. But there's a first time for everything." That got a laugh out of Lynn.

#

They rolled into Charlottesville just as the sun went down. Jack told Lynn to go through a drive-thru and get them something to eat, then find a cheap, independent motel with parking around back. They found the Jefferson Motel ten miles east of town in rural suburb. Jack buried himself in lingerie again while Lynn checked in using her forged I.D. She pulled around back and parked on the far end of the parking lot so they could leave quickly if they needed to. Lynn went in and opened the door to the room. She looked around, checked the bathroom cleanliness and inspected the mattress seams for bedbugs. It passed her inspection – just barely. These places always made her feel a little dirty. 'As soon as Jack gets in here, I want a shower.' she thought. She phoned Jack and told him to come on in. Jack said there were some new guests in the parking lot and, as soon as they went into their room, he would come in.

Lynn decided she couldn't wait for her shower so she went into the bathroom, stripped down, and got into a hot shower. As she got out of the shower and dried off she realized she had left her clean clothes in the suitcase on the bed. She listened to see if Jack was in the room yet but didn't hear anything. She wrapped the skimpy towel around her and opened the bathroom door . . . and there was Jack looking straight at her. He was a gentleman and looked away, but it took him a couple of seconds.

Her face turned bright red with embarrassment as she bent forward to get a little more coverage from her thigh-length towel. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Jack. I thought you were still out in the car."

"I'll go outside for a few minutes and let you get something on. More than you have on now, I mean."

" No, just turn your head while I get some pajamas out of the suitcase and I'll go in the bathroom and put them on."

When she came out with a fuzzy bathrobe over her flowered pajamas. She couldn't turn her face toward Jack, so she busied herself in her suitcase, then sat down at the opposite end of the couch from Jack.

"I guess that was your second most embarrassing moment, Lynn."

"Pretty close, Jack. I feel so ashamed. You probably think I set that scene up just to tantalize you."

"I'm sure you wouldn't do that, Lynn. I know it was just an innocent mistake on your part. I'm going to shower. But first I'll get something to wear."

Jack came out in athletic shorts and a West Virginia basketball shirt. He sat next to Lynn on the sofa and pulled her into his arms with her back snuggled against his chest.

"Now who's being an exhibitionist, Jack."

"Sorry, I didn't bring my fluffy bathrobe." They sat there for several minutes enjoying the closeness. Then Lynn got up and laid their burgers and fries out on the coffee table. Jack turned on the TV while they ate, and saw his face on the network news again.

"After I get into Forman's place and see what I can find, we'll need to find some remote hideout. We'll need to stay for a couple of weeks so we can work on a way to blow this conspiracy apart. But I have no idea where we can go. Any thoughts, Lynn."

"Your cabin in West Virginia would be a good place, but they are probably watching that. And we can't go back to my place. I can't think of anyplace else."
Chapter 28

As Tom lay facedown on the ground he tried to visualize his immediate future. The security guards would call the police who would take him to the county jail. They would hold him there until some charges were drawn up and he would have to go in front of a judge and plead guilty. Maybe he could claim insanity? Probably not. Tom went over his options in his head. 'I'll call Jack with my one phone call and let him handle this. Any way I look at it, I'll lose my job at FRA and spend some time in a state prison. After that, I don't know what will happen. My wife thinks I'm off on an FRA assignment for a week, so I don't have to worry about that yet. Well, at least I got the file put back so they won't know what I was after.'

He heard two vehicles drive up and stop beside him. Two men in suits and ties put hand cuffs on him, pulled a black hood over his head, and put him in the back of an unmarked cargo van. No windows to kick out and no seats to keep him from rolling around in the back when the van turned corners. 'This definitely is not a police action. Maybe the FRA was called in to get me out of this before I become an embarrassment to them.' Tom thought.

They drove for at least an hour then came to a stop. Tom was dragged out the back door of the van and into some structure – a large room from the way the sound echoed – and was handcuffed to a chair. When they pulled the hood off he saw that he was in a small warehouse. The thought hit Tom: 'Just like in the movies – this is where they torture you until you talk and then put a bullet in your head.'

He heard an approaching car and they pulled the hood back over his head. A car door opened and he felt someone standing in front of him – maybe he sensed the body heat. "Well, Mr. Gutierrez, we thought you might show up at Energy Resources. I need to know what you were doing in there, but first let me lay out the situation for you. You're in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of an industrial park with nothing but concrete walls around you. No one can hear you, no one can see you, and no one knows you're here. You have no hope of escape or rescue. Do I make myself clear?"

Tom didn't answer. Instead he reverted to his FRA training and concentrated on remembering every aspect of the man's voice. The pitch, the smoothness – or lack of it in this case; the guy had a gravelly voice – his accent, the inflection of certain syllables, how long he paused between sentences, and between thoughts he was about to turn into words. How often does he have to take a breath while he's talking. Does he clear his throat frequently? All these characteristics would be embedded in Tom's memory so, if he ever heard that voice again, he could identify it as the man in the warehouse.

"Have you guys fed him or given him water yet?

"No sir, we followed your instructions, sir."

Tom filed away in his memory that Mr. Gravel Voice is a boss of some kind, and judging by the deference the other man is giving him, a pretty important person.

"O.K. Tape his arms and legs to the chair and let him sit there with the hood on until tomorrow. Then we'll see if he has something to say."

Tom heard the car door slam and a roll-up garage door close behind the car as it left. Another thing FRA taught it agents was to grab naps whenever you can – when you're tired you're easier to break. So Tom closed his eyes and dozed off.

He awoke when they pulled the hood off, with no idea how long he slept. There were two men with him, one sitting in a chair across from him and another lounging on an old couch.

"Good morning, Mr. Gutierrez . . . May I call you Tom? I understand you like to be called by your middle name." No answer.

"O.K., then, Tom it is. We need to talk about what you were doing in the contract file room of Energy Resources. What your 'mission' was, in agent jargon."

Tom thought 'This definitely is not Gravel Voice in front of me, or anyone else high up, or he wouldn't let me see his face. Of course they could be planning to get rid of me later, so it wouldn't matter if I know what they look like.' Tom decided to string them along. He would make it up as he went.

"I was sent there by the agency I work for, but why I was there is classified top secret. Without verbal approval from my supervisor, I can't tell you any more than that."

"Well, that's a start Tom, but not very helpful. We think you were in there to steal back a file you planted on a mission back in . . . let's see, April 12th, 2013. "

Tom stalled to give his mind time to figure out where to take this. "Why would I do that?"

"That's the puzzling part, Tom. We have no idea. You didn't have any documents with you when you were caught, and we've looked everywhere you could have hidden them in the file room."

"Did you look behind the copier? I might have stashed something there."

"Of course we did, Tom, we know our business well."

"That sounds like you might work for a private company, maybe a security firm?"

Tom watched for the brief pupil dilation that meant he had guessed right, and there it was.

"I'm asking the questions here, Tom, and I'm loosing my patience."

"Just get my supervisor at the Federal Remediation Agency on the phone." Tom paused here to make it seem like he had just slipped up by identifying the agency he worked for. "If he clears me to talk about the mission, then I can tell you more."

"What if I told you that the FRA is under investigation. If I call your boss it might tip him off that he's under investigation."

Tom didn't believe that for a minute. Mack was a compulsively honest man. But he played along.

"You mean Mack McCauley is being investigated!" Tom flashed a brief guilty look, like he just let something else slip – his bosses name. "Is it for embezzlement? I always wondered why my expense reports showed up on the computer with more charges than I submitted. Old Mack was boosting the costs and pocketing the difference."

"We can't tell you why he is under investigation, Mr. Gutierrez, but you can see why we can't get him to authorize you to tell us about your mission."

Tom thought 'Good. He's calling me Mr. Gutierrez again, so I've earned some respect.'

"Does the investigation have anything to do with the new files I planted last night?" Tom threw out another guilty look for telling them too much. 'There goes the eye dilation again. I must have surprised him with that one. Maybe they're starting to believe my lies.'

"Who assigned the mission? Your supervisor?"

Tom took a shot in the dark. "No, this mission was assigned by another agency."

Big-time pupil response that time. This was getting enjoyable.

The interrogator paused for awhile, then jumped up and said "I need to talk to someone. I'll get back to you." He turned to the other man in the room. "Get him some food and water, Jake. I need to call headquarters."

This worried Tom. It would only take a couple of phone calls to blow his fabricated story out of the water. When the interrogator came back into the room, Jack might be in for some physical pain.

CHARTER 29

Lynn turned off the TV. She had heard enough about the 'bad guys' efforts to frame Jack, and she wanted to get his mind off that problem. She sat back on the couch next to Jack and asked "What's on the schedule for tomorrow, Jack."

"We'll plan the break-in at Forman's over coffee. Then I'll need to change my disguise. We can't walk O'Malley past the house with me looking like Einstein. Maybe some facial hair, silly putty in my cheeks to fill them out, and a baseball cap with dirty matted hair sticking out around the edges. My protruding ears are a noticeable characteristic, so I'll pin them back with some super glue. But the most effective part of the disguise will be a change in posture and gait. Maybe I'll add a slight limp. I'll also need some shabby clothes to go with the dirty hair and cap. You can get those at Goodwill. We'll need to fix you up to look like you belong with me. I'll leave that up to you. You can go out after breakfast and buy what we need."

"When do we leave here?"

"Fredericksburg is only an hour and a half away. I want to be there by mid-afternoon to start our dog walk. That will give us time to make adjustments to our intrusion plan before we go into Foreman's house about 10 pm. If we find the place is staked out by the opposition we'll have to revise our break-in plan, so I want time to do that between our dog walk and break-in."

"Jack, we're not going to take O'Malley with us during the break-in, are we?"

"As much as I would like to have his Jasper alter-ego protecting me, we can't risk leaving him behind if I have to make a run for it. That's about it for tonight, Lynn."

"I brought a couple of bottles of wine along. Do you want to relax with a glass before we go to bed?"

"Sure, if you'll come over here and let me put my arms around you."

They sat in the corner of the couch spoon fashion for awhile, enjoying the wine and the closeness. "You know Jack, I'm beginning to enjoy this chaste relationship more and more. With the love-making issue out of the picture, it's an entirely different relationship."

"You're right about that, Lynn. This is a different kind of pleasure."

When they went to bed, Lynn got in Jack's bed and snuggled up to his back.

#

Jack was pulled up out of a very enjoyable dream by the raucous ring of his cell phone. He definitely had to change his ring tone to something more soothing than Flight of the Valkyries.

Jack used his usual brief answer that gave away nothing. "Hello?"

"Jack, this is Harriet Goodman. Nothing's happening here, but I saw a report on TV that the police are looking for you as a murder suspect. Give me an update of things at your end."

Jack brought her up to date on being framed for a murder, Tom's phone call, and his plans for getting into Foreman's house to look for a CYA file. He told her that he and Lynn would need an untraceable safe house for a month or so while they found a way to expose the conspiracy.

Harriet said "Let me turn my husband loose on that issue. He owns a real estate marketing company and has listings of dozens of rental homes in an isolated country setting. I'll have a place by tomorrow afternoon that Rick can rent through his company, so there will be no connection to us. We will move out there and wait for you two to join us."

"That's great, Harriet. I'm hoping that Tom Gutierrez can join us if he was able to escape. Then the three of us can figure out what to do. I'll call you after we're through at Foreman's house."
Chapter 30

When Lynn woke up, Jack was already dressed and going over the neighborhood map of Foreman's neighborhood on his computer. She walked up behind him and put her arms around his neck. Jack looked up; "Morning, Lynn. Did you have any more of your secret dreams?" Jack said with a smile.

She came back with "Wouldn't you like to know. . . . Didn't we go over the map last night?"

"Yes, but I need to memorize contingency escape routes in case something goes wrong. Why don't you get dressed and grab us some breakfast in the lobby, and I'll finish this up. Then you can go out and buy what we need. I'll have a list ready for you."

Lynn was back from shopping by 11 a.m. with everything on the list. Jack went into the bathroom and worked on his new disguise. When he limped out Lynn held up her hands in mock fear and said "Help, there's a strange man in my room. Jack, come and rescue me!"

"I guess my disguise is working. The opposition may have been in Foreman's house already and planted hidden cameras, so they may get more than a casual look at me. They will eventually figure out who went into Foreman's house, but I want to keep them confused for awhile so we have time to get to Harriet's hide-a-way."

A few minutes later Lynn came out of the bathroom dressed like an aging flower child from the seventies.

#

Jack pulled the Jeep into the neighborhood park two blocks from Foremen's home. Lynn got out and put the leash on O'Malley while she looked about nervously. Jack came up beside her. "Relax. Your emotional state will be the first thing an agent looks for. If you're nervous, with your eyes flicking in all directions, anyone watching us will immediately be suspicious. Let's start our walk."

"I know I said I wanted to be a spy, Jack, but this is scary."

"O.K. We'll carry on a normal conversation for a husband and wife out walking their dog. You're Irene and I'm . . . Alfred. Not Al, but Alfred."

Lynn got into the role right away, with the loud voice of a full-time bitch. "Alfred, when are you going to ask for that promotion! You said you would go see the boss last week, but you just didn't have the cojones. I'm tired of living on the edge, never knowing if I can pay all the bills. Are you going to man-up and demand your raise, or am I going to have to sleep with your boss to make it happen."

"Honey, you know I do the best I can. It's all I can do to keep up with the job now. If I get a promotion I'll have to work late all the time."

"Having you working late won't change my life at all. Now you just come home with a six pack under your arm and watch non-stop football . . . or basketball . . . or baseball. You never pay attention to me."

They walked into Foreman's neighborhood and kept up the dialog. "I know you think I'm a failure, Irene. Our life isn't what we planned when we were young and in love. But maybe if you gave me more love, I would be more motivated to do better."

Lynn answered "More love? Every time I'm in the mood, you're drunk on your ass and can't do it. Maybe I should find myself a younger man to have a fling with. I could be one of them cougars I saw on TV."

They kept up this banter as they walked past Forman's house. Jack scanned the parked cars they passed, but they were all empty. Then, up the block he saw a dark sedan with a silhouette behind the wheel. They were watching Foreman's house. That will make things difficult, but he didn't say anything to Lynn.

On the pass through the alley, Jack looked closely at the padlock on the back gate. An old fashioned Master combination lock like they used on their high school lockers. Jack would have no trouble opening that with no sign of tampering. Jack also looked for cameras in the trees, but didn't see anything. They continued their walk, and their bickering, into the next block, and then worked their way back to the Jeep.

Back at the motel Jack took a small pair of scissors out of his toiletries kit and started cutting the aluminum side of the soda can. When he was done, he held up an irregularly shaped piece of aluminum and said "This should do it."

"O.K. For us new spies, what is it and why do you need it."

"When I was back in high school someone came up with a device like this to open any simple combination lock. If I bend it around my little finger to shape it, I can slide it down the shaft of the lock and it will pop open. If I close it back up, it locks normally."

"Well, we have a few hours before we have to head back to Fredericksburg. What should we do, Jack?"

"I'm going to stretch out on the bed and get a nap."

Lynn climbed in beside him and asked "Wanna make out for awhile?"

Jack recalled when Helen used to say that back in high school, and it brought a smile to his lips. "I don't want to mess up my makeup or my hair. It took me awhile to put this disguise on. Maybe later, after the mission."

"Oooh . . . I'm going on a mission with a secret agent man. I love this spy stuff."
Chapter 31

Tom woke up just as the interrogator came back into the room and sat down in front of him. "What do you know about Hermetrius, Tom?"

"Nothing, except that he might be the one who authorized my first mission to ER. I was curious so I searched the internet for the name. Nothing showed up. It's like he doesn't exist."

"Oh he exists alright, Tom. We're working for him right now, but your information brings up some questions. If some other agency had you plant some new files, the program is not going as planned. We need to know what was in those files you smuggled into Energy Resources yesterday."

"I wish I could tell you what was in them Mr. . . . What's your name?" Tom was trying to establish some rapport of his own.

"You can call me Willy, like in Willy Wonka."

"Like I was saying, Willy, I didn't get a look at the new files, so I can't help you out there. But the assignment popped up out of nowhere. Usually we have a couple of weeks or more to prepare for a mission, but when this mission came down from DNI, they wanted it done within two days."

Definite alarm response from Willy there!

"Did you say DNI issued the mission orders, Mr. Gutierrez?"

Tom paused for effect . . . "T-that's right. . . . The Defense Nuclear Institute" Tom mentioned the first thing that came to mind that fit the three letters.

Willy stared at him for several seconds. "You're lying to me, Tom. I'm not stupid. We both know that DNI is the Director of the National Intelligence Office – the people who rule all other federal intelligence agencies; the watchdog agency for whistle blowers throughout the Government. Do you know any whistle blowers, Tom?"

"I don't know anything except that the DNI had me plant four files into the Energy Resources contract records last night."

Willy Wonka considered that for a minute, then said "Lock him up in the upstairs office. We need to visit the head man in this operation. Something doesn't add up." Willy's assistant got up off the couch, cut the duct tape on Tom's wrists and ankles with his expensive pocket knife, and led him up the stairs to the warehouse office. He handcuffed Tom to a heating pipe and left.
Chapter 32

Jack and Lynn woke up at 8 p.m. They ate some snacks Lynn brought back from her shopping trip, then touched up their disguises. Jack went over the plans one more time, then told Lynn that she would stay back in the Jeep with O'Malley at the park.

"No Jack! I want to go in with you! What if something happens to you and you need help to escape?"

"That's exactly why I want you to stay at the park, Lynn. We'll be in constant contact over our headphones, so if the intrusion goes bad I'll run and tell you where to pick me up. You'll be the get-away driver. That's the safest way to do this job."

"So I will be your junior assistant secret agent, safely out of the action."

"You got it. Keep the packet of false I.D.s and replacement license plates next to you, in case I get caught and you have to leave without me. I gave you Harriet Goodman's phone number, so call her as soon as you're safe and go join her. I've transferred copies of all of my computer files to her machine, so you two will have something to work with if you have to go on without me."

"No Jack! You're talking garbage – you won't get caught. You can get away from anything."

"I'm just being a realist, Lynn. The contingency plan is just in case I don't make it out. I don't expect that to happen."

#

They pulled into a parking place in the nearly deserted city park. Jack put Lynn's gun in her hand and kissed her. "I will talk over the headphones only when necessary. You only speak in response to a direct question from me. No chatter; it could give me away."

As he started to get out of the car Lynn put her hand behind his neck and kissed him hard. She had tears in her eyes as she said "You better come back to me!"

Jack started walking, using a cane to support his phony limp. He circled around the neighborhood so he could come up behind the surveillance car. He approached from the rear, staying in the driver's blind spot. When he got up to the car he squatted down and reached his cane forward to tap on the driver's window. Three soft, quick taps. Not a sound the driver could immediately identify, but one that would get his attention. He waited 30 seconds, then repeated the taps. This time the driver opened the door and tried to step out. Jack jumped forward and pinned him behind the partially open door. As the guy struggled to get loose Jack shoved a syringe into his neck and emptied it. The man struggled for a couple more minutes, getting weaker all the time, until the drug took him into unconsciousness.

Jack eased the man back into the driver's seat. The drug would keep him out for at lest two hours, plenty of time for Jack to get in and out of Foreman's house. Jack crossed the street and went down the alley to Foreman's back gate. He pulled the aluminum lock tool he made out of his pocket and opened the combination lock. Who knew that skills he learned in 10th grade would still be useful today.

Jack scanned the back yard and rear of the house with his camera detector binoculars but it was all clear. He put gloves on and walked up to the sliding door. In two minutes his electric lock picker buzzed its way through all the tumblers and Jack was inside. He immediately looked around for a burglar alarm key pad; he had 30 seconds to disarm it. He found it and stepped up to work his magic when he realized it was disarmed. That's strange. When Jim Foreman and his wife left on vacation, they certainly would have armed it. As Jack walked through the house looking for Foreman's office and found the master bedroom. He saw that someone had been here before him; drawers were pulled open, mattresses were pulled off the beds, and the closet shelves had been cleared off. Jack found Jim's office in a spare bedroom and things were even worse there. Filing cabinet drawers dumped on the floor, storage cabinets stripped of their contents, corners of the carpet pulled up by someone looking for a secret compartment under the floor. The place was a wreck.

Jack sat in the desk chair and thought for a bit. Most agents had a special room they kept locked, where they did some of their work at home. They usually had a separate computer, internet access, a flat-screen TV, and a mini-refrigerator full of beer. Sometimes they just used it to get away from their families for a couple of hours, or watch a football game without being disturbed. Sometimes they surfed the internet for porn, but with the Government back-tracking from porn sites to users' computers, that was fading fast. Get caught doing that and the agent would lose his job and his wife. Jack went through Foreman's house one more time, looking for spaces where he could have built a secret room. No luck. Then Jack thought of his secret room, hidden at the end of a walk-in closet.

Jack went into the master bedroom and checked out the closet. The end wall was just that – a solid wall with no hollowness when he tapped on it. He was about to turn and leave when he heard the floorboards squeak under his foot. He bent down and found the carpet wasn't attached to floor there, so he pulled it up to reveal a two-foot by four-foot trap door. Jack opened it and climbed down the ladder into Jim Foreman's secret room. It was small, six by nine feet, but had a desk with a computer, a printer, and two steel file cabinets. After picking the file cabinet locks Jack quickly went through the files until he found the CYA section. Foreman had stashed away some interesting information here. Rather than page through the files Jack just grabbed them all and headed back up the ladder. It would be nice to take the computer hard drive, but it was an old tower model and he would have to disassemble the case to get the hard dive out. No time for that.

When he got upstairs he looked around for something to carry the files in and found an old briefcase in the coat closet. As he gave one last look around, he saw something he should have looked for when he first broke in – a micro video camera stuck in the corner of the kitchen ceiling. There had to be more cameras, but it would do him no good to look for them now. If they were actively monitoring the cameras they knew he was in the house and were probably sending someone here right now. He heard tires screech in the front driveway; they're here! Jack sprinted out the back door and through the gate into the alley.

He talked to Lynn on the headset as he ran. "They're after me Lynn. I'm heading North in the alley and will stay on it for three blocks. That will put me out on 29th street half a block from the park. Go there now and pick me up."

"Roger that. I'll be there in three minutes." Lynn arrived just as Jack burst out of the alley. He jumped into the passenger seat and told Lynn to go fast, but not fast enough to get stopped by the police. As she got to the end of the block a black sedan turned the corned and blocked their path. She did a K-turn and was headed the other way, back to the park, when another car blocked the only way out of the park. "Jack. What do I do now?"
Chapter 33

"Willy Wonka," – Alex was his real name – walked into George Jenkins' office at Blackworth Security with the question "What's going on here, George! I couldn't tell you much over the phone, but there is something we need to understand."

"Sit down and tell me all you know, Alex."

After Alex had finished recounting his conversations with Gutierrez, George responded "We need to discuss this with the client. Is he's involved with this latest file planting? If he is, then he's keeping us in the dark for some reason, and I don't like that. I'll see if I can get him in here this afternoon."

"That's a good idea George. But what about this DNI connection? Do you have any contacts in the organization that can get us information?"

"Not all the way to the top, and if this is coming straight from the Director himself, there's no way we can get to it. Let's wait until we get the client in here to discuss it further."

#

George's secretary stuck her head in the door to say "Your visitor is here, sir."

"Call Alex and get him up here right away. And put some fresh coffee and pastries in the conference room. This visitor likes his sweets."

His client came charging into George's office and demanded "What's so important that I needed to be pulled away from a board of directors' meeting to come over here, George?"

Have a seat, sir. I let you hear it first hand from Alex, who has been interrogating Mr. Gutierrez for the past two days. He'll be up in a minute. Why don 't we move to the conference room where we can see some video of the interrogation."

Alex showed up just as they were entering the conference room. "Good afternoon, Sir. I hope you had a good trip."

"Three hours on an airplane is never a good trip . . . even if you own the airlines."

He helped himself to coffee and two Danish rolls and turned to Alex. "I want to know everything that FRA agent said, starting from yesterday morning."

"Let me play the key parts of the video first, then we'll get more from our discussion."

When the video recording got to Tom's disclosure of the DNI involvement, the client slammed his fist on the table. "How the hell did they get involved in this? Why would they want to plant some files at Energy Resources?"

George paused. He didn't want to be the one to point out the obvious. "Maybe because they're responsible for whistle blower investigations. Could one of your people be trying to stop this operation?"

"That's hard to accept. Only a half dozen of my most trusted employees know anything about this operation."

Alex interjected "Maybe the new files they planted are part of a sting operation to flush out who is behind it. If that's the case, then the DNI is closer to us than I first thought."

"I don't see how they could have put it together. I've put things in motion to effect election results at all levels of the Federal Government. And once my people are elected, they will have the power to get more of my people appointed to key directorships at the top level. Hell George, even you don't know the full extent of what I have planned for this country."

That upset George a bit, although he didn't let it show. Why wasn't he using Blackworth for this other work? Maybe because he didn't want anyone besides himself to know all the details. He was keeping the pieces compartmentalized like the Government did with its best kept secrets. "What's our next move, sir? What do you want my people to do?"

"Keep trying to find Jack Preston and his girlfriend! They seem to key to whatever is going on here. And see if you can wring more information out of Gutierrez, especially if he has had contact with Preston."
Chapter 34

"They're getting out of their cars, Jack. Think of something . . . quick!"

"Shift into four-wheel-drive and climb up over the curb. We'll drive through the playground into those trees over there."

As soon as the Jeep jumped over the curb the second car started to follow them. Lynn threaded her way through the playground equipment, side-swiping a swing set on the way through. Jack looked back and saw the car get a running start at the curb and bounce over it. "Floor it and head across the soccer field. I'll look for a gap in the trees we can get through."

As they approached the tree line the car was gaining fast. "There, off to the left. The brush there is only a few feet high. We should be able push it out of the way and get through there. I don't think they can follow us, but they will probably have a surveillance aircraft on the way in a few minutes."

"Where will we come out when we get through this brush, Jack."

"I don't have a clue, Lynn. We'll just have to improvise."

As soon as they were deep enough into the woods so their pursuers couldn't see them, Jack had Lynn turn left into a more heavily wooded area to hide them from air surveillance. They drove over a flat stream bed and were headed up the other side when Jack told her to stop. "Back up and follow the stream downhill. We should be able make good time on that and hope we come out someplace far away from here."

They drove over the rocky bottom of the stream for another ten minutes until it flowed into a small river. Lynn turned right and climbed up the river bank into a cul-de-sac in a new neighborhood under construction. She wound her way through the deserted streets until they came to a major avenue. "Which way, Jack?"

"According to my cell phone GPS map, we should turn right. In about 3 miles we can get on I-95 south to Richmond, and take I-64 to our hotel in Charlottesville."

"Will you drive? I'm still shaking from all that adventure. It beats a Disney World ride any day."

They switched places and, as Jack drove, Lynn fell asleep leaning against the door.

#

Tom surveyed his surroundings. The pipe he was handcuffed to was too far away for him to reach the desk. If he could get his hands on a paper clip or letter opener, he could open the handcuffs, but there was nothing within reach of his hands or his feet. He inspected the walls and ceiling for anything helpful, but gave up after a few minutes. There just wasn't anything in reach he could work with. After some thought, he looked at the floor. The desk was sitting on a carpet, and he could reach the edge of the carpet with one hand. Could he drag the desk over to him with one hand? He grabbed the edge of the carpet and pulled, but it slipped out of his hand. He couldn't get the carpet in a tight enough grip to hold on as he pulled. He tried one more time, bunching up the carpet in his hand to get a better grip. He pulled as hard as he could and was able to move the desk about an inch closer. He repeated the move and got another inch, but it was wearing him out. He rested a few minutes and gave it all he had. This time it moved six inches. He kept at it until the desk was two feet from his outstretched hand. He was breathing hard and the sweat on his hand was making the carpet slip out of his grip. He dried it off and pulled again, but this time the desk hit something in the floor, maybe an uneven floorboard, and stuck. A couple of more tries and he realized his work had been a waste of energy.

Tom sat back against the wall to rest. He kept turning the situation over in his mind until he had an idea. He laid down on the floor and extended his leg toward the desk. No problem with that. Then he raised the toe of his shoe, hooked it under the bottom desk drawer handle, and pulled the drawer open. But there was no way to get the contents out on the floor where he could reach them. He closed that drawer and opened the drawer above it. Then he gave the bottom surface of the drawer a big kick and was rewarded when several files and papers flew into the air. Two of the files were in reach of his foot, so he pulled them closer until he could grab them with his free hand. When he opened the file he found just what he was hoping for – a paper clip. He was out of the handcuffs in under a minute.

He needed to get in touch with Jack and his own wife as soon as possible. They had taken his wallet and cell phone, so he picked up the old fashioned desk phone and had dialed the first three digits of his wife's phone number before he realized he had no dial tone. Damn!

His next move was to get as far away from this place as he could before Willy Wonka came back. The garage door rolled up smoothly and he slid under it. He ran to the gate and found it locked, so he climbed over it, then followed the access road for half a mile until it intersected a city street. He had no idea where he was, only that it was about an hour and a half drive from Energy Resources. He looked at the skyline and saw the reflected light of a city to his left, so he headed that way. He walked until dawn and got to a suburban strip mall. He looked around and saw a man talking on his cell phone. When the man hung up he put the phone in his left jacket pocket. Perfect.

When the man started walking Tom caught up to him in a brisk walk, and lightly brushed against him as he passed. It wasn't much contact, but enough to let Tom quickly slide the cell phone out of his pocket. Tom continued to walk for another 10 minutes before he went into an all-night grocery store and called his wife.

"Hi Tom, how's your trip going. Can you get it wrapped up early and come home? I miss you."

"No, it will be a few days before I can get away. Look, what I need is the cell phone number I gave you to call in an emergency."

"You mean Jack Preston? Let me find that piece of paper . . . Yes here it is." As soon as she gave Tom the number she asked "You're not in some kind of danger, are you? Why do you need Jack's number? Didn't you have it on your cell phone?"

"No honey, I'm not in danger, but it's a long story that I don't have time to tell you right now. I'll call later and fill you in. Bye for now."

Tom immediately dialed Jack Preston's number on his cell phone.

"Jack? This is Tom."

"I'm so glad to hear from you. I was worried when you didn't call again after your panic phone call the other night."

"I'm in a bind here, Jack, and I need help. I got caught as I was escaping and they interrogated me for a couple of days. I told them a fairy tale about why I was there – that DNI gave me a mission to plant more files in the Energy Resources contract records – and I think they believed me. They held me in an old warehouse but I escaped a couple of hours ago. The problem is that they took my wallet and cell phone, so I'm out on the street with no transportation, no money, and no identification."

"That reference to DNI must have them worried. Where are you, Tom?"

"Somewhere on the outskirts of Wilmington, Delaware – that's where the company is located. I pulled a pickpocket move on a guy to get his cell phone so I could call you. I just passed the intersection 148th street and Brandywine Boulevard. Where are you? Did you find a CYI record of his break-in at MTX Military Systems?"

"Foremen copied the file he planted, but I haven't had time to see who the offshore account belongs to. We're on the road back to our current base of operations in Charlottesville. I almost got caught myself during my break-in at Forman's, but I got his copy of the MTX file. As soon as we get back to our motel room I'll see if I can identify who the account is registered to."

"So can you come over here and pick me up? Or should I lift someone's wallet to get cash for a bus ticket to Charlottesville."

"The bus ticket is your best option. You probably haven't seen the news for a couple of days, but our opposition has publicized the murder in Alexandria and are looking for me as the primary suspect. They added "armed and dangerous" to the press release – they may as well have said "shoot on sight." If they put a reward on my head, I'll have to burrow in deeper. I've been laying low and wearing disguises to make it harder to identify me. The bottom line is I can't risk coming to get you, so it will have to be the bus. If you can get to the bus terminal here I can send Lynn to pick you up."

"O.K. I'll see what I can do. I'll use the GPS map on this phone to find a shopping mall where it's easier to steal a woman's purse. I'll use the credit card for a taxi to the bus station and a ticket for Charlottesville. I'll call when I get there."

#

Jack and Lynn rolled into the parking lot at the Jefferson Motel just as the sun was rising. Jack pulled his Einstein wig over his head and followed her to the room. As soon as the door was locked, Lynn let out a sigh of relief. "That chase was a great adrenalin rush, Jack. I can't remember when I have felt so alive."

They changed into pajamas, laid on the bed, and were asleep in five minutes. They woke up in the late afternoon after sleeping most of the day. Jack was glad that Tom hadn't called to wake them up – they both needed to catch up on sleep after the long night. Lynn gave Jack a quick kiss on the neck and hopped out of bed. He watched her stretch and thought once again 'Even in pajamas with mussed up hair she was still attractive . . . no, the correct word is sexy.'

"I'm starved, Lynn. Can you get dressed and get us some breakfast at the restaurant?"

"Not unless they serve breakfast all day. It's four p.m."

"Well, how about a juicy steak then? And a baked potato with sour cream, salad with ranch dressing, and strong coffee."

"Let me get some real clothes on and I'll see what I can do."

Forty minutes later they were cleaning the last bit of food off their plates.

"I need to fire up my computer and see who the account number from Foreman's file belongs to."

"What can I do to help, Jack?"

"You could help with some internet searches if you had a computer. Why don't you run out to the nearest Office Depot and pick out a high-end laptop. We're going to need it."

While she was gone, Jack traced the offshore account number from the Caribbean bank to Thomas Dalton, a Republican congressman from Florida. He now had uncovered three Democrats and two Republicans, with a third possible Republican connection at Caspian Industries. So the conspiracy definitely wasn't about getting a selected Democrat nominated for President. Now he had Republicans in the mix. He needed to talk this over with Lynn to get her thoughts on this new twist.

Lynn came back an hour later carrying a sleek-looking laptop with all the latest software and applications. "Ya done good, Lynn, as we would say back in Coal Creek. With the custom software I'll add later, your computer will be almost as good as mine."

"I'm jealous. I want mine to be better than yours. Why is yours better?"

"Because I put together some added hardware to enhance its capabilities. Come and see what I found out from Foreman's file."

"That's it? The account belongs to Thomas Dalton, congressman from Florida? He must shun publicity because I've never heard of him. What's special about him?"

"Well first, he's a candidate for President. What else do you see?"

"He's a Republican! You completed the list of names associated with the six accounts, and now there are three of each – Democrats and Republicans!"

"One republican is still a maybe, but you're right. This doesn't fit our theory, Lynn. We have presidential candidates from both parties, so it can't be about rigging the democratic primary. What's going on?"

It took Lynn about 30 seconds to figure it out.

"Jack, they're not trying to rig the democratic primary election, they're going to rig the presidential election! They have a way to discredit the top candidates from both parties and steer the election to the candidate of their choice. We don't know whether their chosen candidate is a Democrat or a Republican, but whichever it is, there won't be any incriminating files on him. They only planted files on candidates they might want to force out of the race."

"That's good, Lynn, really good. It all holds together, at least based on what we know so far."

Jack immediately saw the implications of Lynn's hypothesis. But he was still clueless about who 'they' were. Who is behind this plan? The name Hermetrius came to mind. He needed to find out more about him, her, or it, but if he started looking for a major player like Hermetrius, things might get even more dangerous for them. Hermetrius has already killed three FRA agents and the man at the Hyatt to cover up his plot, so he will do whatever it takes to shut Harriet, Tom, Lynn, and himself up.

His phone interrupted his thoughts. Jack answered "Hello?"

"Hi Jack. I'm here at the Charlottesville bus station."

"So you made it here, Tom. Any difficulties along the way?"

"Nothing except an angry businesswoman who won't ever find her purse again. It was a good score - $900 in cash. I didn't have to risk using her credit cards."

"Stand out in front of the bus station in 15 minutes. Lynn is driving a grey Jeep Wrangler."

#

Jack and Lynn listened as Tom told them everything about his capture and questioning.

"I'm glad you called with the bank account number before you got caught. Your story about DNI involvement was priceless. The way you slowly led them down the path to believing you a little at a time. You have a gift there, Tom."

"So whose name is listed on the account?"

"Tom Dalton, a Republican congressman from Florida. He's not a front runner in the primary race, but that could change, especially if one or two of his opponents get knocked off in the Iowa and New Hampshire primaries. Lynn, explain your idea about where all this may be leading."

"I think whoever is behind this wants to put a particular candidate in the White House. The files showing fraud by six of the candidates can't all be used – maybe one or two of them – or else the press will see something fishy is going on. The candidate chosen by Hermetrius to be elected president won't have any files on him, or her."

"That seems like a pretty good hypothesis. There are some holes in it, mostly about how the one selected candidate will rise above the others. Voters are unpredictable, so it seems to me that getting a selected candidate into the White House is not a sure thing. If your hypothesis is correct, there will have to be some other events planned to manipulate the voters – pull them strongly to one candidate."

"That makes sense, Tom. Do you have any idea who's behind this. Who this Hermetrius is?"

"I don't know who he is but I might be able to identify him by his voice. When they took me to the warehouse, they took the hood off my head for awhile, but put it back on when another car drove in. The man from the car had a deep, gravelly voice that I think I could identify. Everyone deferred to him, with lots of 'yes sirs' and 'no sirs.' I think he may have been this Hermetrius fellow."

"It's getting late. Why don't you get some rest, Tom, and I'll call Harriet to see if they have found a place to hide out."

"I definitely need some sleep; I've been awake for over 24 hours. Wake me when you're ready to head for Harriet's place."
Chapter 35

"Harriet? It's Jack. Tom got here a few minutes ago and is catching up on sleep. What's happening at your end?"

"Rick came through for us. He found an empty place in the Virginia farm country west of here and leased it for six months. It's got plenty of room – six bedrooms, four baths, a fully equipped kitchen, an office in the basement, and a four-car garage. It's on 80 acres of cleared land so we'll be able to see anyone approaching. We plan to head up there tomorrow morning and pick up some groceries on the way."

"That sounds perfect. We'll leave Charlottesville before noon tomorrow and meet you there. Tell me how to get there."

"It's out past Leesburg. The address is 45236 Squire Woods Road. Your GPS will be able to find it. There's a gate at the entrance with a video link back to the house. Call us from there on the intercom and we'll open the gate for you."

"Great. It's a couple hour's drive from here, so we should get there in early afternoon."

"Good. But I don't know what you look like, so send me a selfie of you, Lynn, and Tom so I can recognize you."

"O.K. I'll send it in the morning as soon as Tom wakes up. We'll be driving two vehicles – a dark green Ford SportTrac and a gray Jeep Wrangler. Send me a photo of you and Rick."

#

Jack left early for Harriet and Rick's place. He wanted to check out the territory before they went in. He told Lynn to wait down the road while he drove past the gate to have a look. Everything looked clear so he called Lynn and told her to meet him at the gate. Judging from the fancy gate, the owner must have been a gentleman farmer trying to impress visitors. He buzzed Harriet to open the gate and drove through with Lynn right behind him. The road curved left and right before they got a clear view of the house. Lynn called him to say "Wow! I'm impressed. If we're going to hide out we may as well do it in style."

Rick greeted them at the door. "Come on in; Harriet is dying to meet you. We'll get your bags later. Rick had his wife set up in the master bedroom, still in the traction bed they brought from the hospital. She looked pretty good considering her injuries. Her leg was still in traction, but the visiting doctor said they could release her from that by Saturday. In spite of her casts and bandages, Harriet greeted them cheerfully and insisted on a hug from each of them. Lynn excused herself to let O'Malley out for a run. He immediately started exploring the place, sniffing around the barn and looking back at Lynn now and then to make sure she was still there. After fifteen minutes Lynn called him back to her and took him in the house to meet their new friends.

"What a beautiful dog!" Harriet exclaimed. Is he house broken? We're only leasing this place and I wouldn't want him to make a mess."

"He is housebroken and very well trained. Call him over to your bed."

"Come here – what's his name? – O'Malley. That's what you said. Come here O'Malley."

The dog looked up at Lynn for permission and, when she nodded her head, he went over and licked Harriet's hand.

Jack said "Don't ever call him J-a-s-p-e-r. He turns into a vicious mad dog."

"He's not that bad, Jack, but he is a great watch dog. He'll know when anyone comes this way long before we will."

#

Jack pulled his truck and Lynn's Wrangler into the attached garage, and Rick helped Jack unload the stuff from his truck – a couple of duffle bags along with guns, ammo, and electronic gear – plus the backpack from the Jeep and a large bag of dog food.

"You travel fully equipped, don't you Jack."

"We have no idea what will happen from now on so we have to be prepared for anything.

Thirty minutes later the were sitting around Harriett's bed in comfortable chairs they hauled up from the living room having a drink. "I can't wait to get out of this medieval torture device and into that huge bed so I can snuggle with my husband. It's been awhile and I want to make sure he still loves me."

Rick blushed at that and changed the subject. "Well, now that we're all together, we need a plan. Where are we going? What needs to be done now and what can wait a bit? What Government resources can we trust? Who are our most likely adversaries? And who is behind this whole thing – the probable murders, attempted murders, surveillance on us, and the suspicious activities we have noticed? We need to figure out everything we know or suspect."

Harriet spoke up next. "Here's what I propose. We all have our own experiences that we have been through. As soon as we start sharing them, our perceptions and thoughts on those experiences will be influenced by what we hear from the others. So I think we should spend the afternoon with each of us writing a report of our own experiences – with all the details we can remember, including our first thoughts and impressions about what was happening to us. Then, tomorrow morning after breakfast we will read each others' reports and write down new thoughts that come to mind. After lunch we will regroup back up here to discuss everything. When you finish with your reports give them to Rick and he will print copies for us."

Lynn followed up with her opinion that it was a great strategy, and everyone else agreed. They all took their laptops and found a comfortable place in the house to put together their reports.

#

After writing their reports they met for dinner. Rick turned out to be a pretty good cook – spinach salad with vinaigrette dressing, chicken alfredo, wine, and fresh brownies for dessert. They purposely kept the conversation away from their reports; there would be time for that in the morning. Jack talked about his retirement and the place in West Virginia. "But it's nothing compared to Lynn's ski lodge in Colorado. Tell them about it, honey." . . . Then he realized he had called her his favorite name for Helen. That brought tears to his eyes and he had to excuse himself and go to his room. Lynn was moved, both by what he called her and by his emotional response. She told them about her place in Telluride for a few minutes, and then said she was tired and went upstairs.

Lynn and Jack had chosen adjacent rooms that shared a bathroom. Lynn went into her room and immediately went through the bathroom into Jack's room.

"Do you want some company, Jack? I can tell that brought up some painful memories for you."

"I don't want to talk. . . . Just lay beside me while I try to work my way through this. I feel the depression closing in on me again and I need to figure out how to head it off. I spent the last six months being sucked down into that black whirlpool and I just can't go there again."

Now the tears were streaming down his cheeks as a sob caught in his throat.

"Oh, Jack! Come here, let me hold you." She wrapped her arms around him and held on until they both fell asleep.

#

After breakfast Rick handed out copies of the reports to everyone and they retreated to their rooms to write their comments and thoughts in the margins. At one o'clock they gathered in Harriet's room to discuss their ideas. Jack gave Lynn, Tom, and Rick a legal pad each with a different heading on it - _What We Know_ , _What We Suspect_ , and _What We Need to Find out._

"Let's start with the facts we know."

  * Six FRA agents planted files in contractor's records each designed to make a potential Presidential candidate look guilty of embezzlement.

  * These missions were authorized by a man or group named Hermetrius.

  * Some unknown organization is trying to kill the six agents, and were successful with three of them.

  * This organization is well funded and equipped. They deposited almost $10 million in the five accounts we know about, and their drones and military systems are state of the art.

  * Given their freedom to operate and the high-end equipment they use, they must have a strong Government connection somewhere.

"Anything else for this list? Alright, how about the theories; what we suspect is going on." Lynn lead off with her idea about eliminating all but the candidate 'they' want in the Presidency.

Jack added "We have a problem here in what we call our opposition. First we have whoever is trying to kill us. Then we have whoever is behind this entire conspiracy. Finally we have Hermetrius. These may all be the same organization, or three separate but connected groups, each with their own part of the plan. To keep it straight, let's give each entity a separate name we can use among ourselves. Any suggestions?"

"How about Bad Guys for the first group. And lets just shorten Hermetrius' name to Herman."

Lynn added, "That works, Harriet. And we can call the one who is at the top of all this, the head conspirator, 'Boss Man.'

"O.K. We'll use these names to keep it straight who we're talking about. So lets start our theories list with Lynn's idea."

  * The Boss Man is planning to use these false embezzlement claims to discredit candidates that threaten the nomination and election of his chosen candidate.

  * Boss Man and Hermetrius, Herman, might be the same person.

  * Presidential power alone won't be enough without a Congress to support the Boss Man's plans for changes in Government policies, and the budgeting to go with it.

  * Putting the right Congressmen and Senators in place must have started already.

  * Based on Tom's reverse interrogation of Willie Wonka, the Bad Guys might include a private security agency.

  * Herman might have a gravelly voice easily identifiable by Tom.

"Good. Really good." Jack commented. "Let's cut that list off for now and move on the _What_ _We Need To Know_ list. These should be actions we need to take to confirm or eliminate our theories on the second list. What are your thoughts here?"

Harriet spoke up. "If the Boss Man has been getting selected Congressional candidates elected for the past few years, we need to look over all the recently elected Congressmen and Senators to see if we can spot a trend, maybe similarities in ideologies and stances on important issues, to look for a common thread. That's one I'll volunteer for since I'm still bedridden

"Tom, since you were the one with the private security firm idea, why don't you chase that one. Make up a list of all the firms that might be involved in something like this and find some dirt on them so we can apply pressure to get information."

Lynn spoke up again. "Since I'm not wired into the spy community like you guys, why don't I go through news clips of all the powerful men in the country and pick out those with a voice like Tom described. Then he can sit down and listen to all of them at one time."

"That's great. Look at politicians, corporate kings, union leaders – any group that might want to swing the entire U.S. Government toward their goals. If you don't find anything among U.S. citizens, expand your search to similar groups from other countries that might have an agenda for our country."

"What would you like me to do?" Rick asked.

"Just keep up the good cooking, and care for your wife. And you're the only one of us who can go out in public safely, so you can take care of anything we need done on the outside."

"I have an idea about how I can help, Jack. In your report you listed the amounts and dates of the five deposits you were able access. All five deposits were made within a two-week period at the end of October of 2012, just before the first FRA agent switched the contract files. With my financial connections I can look for where that money might have come from here in the U.S. I'll be looking for the transfer of five specific amounts of money, from the same account, in that time frame. It's a long shot – I'll have to look through lists of several thousand transfers looking for five needles in a haystack – so it will take me a couple of weeks. But it might payoff for us."

Jack thought for a minute. "Rick, what if I wrote some custom software for your computer that could do high speed searches for you. That should speed things up. It will take me awhile, but if I pull an all-nighter like I did in my college days I can have something for you by morning. In the meantime you identify what financial data bases you need to get into to search. I can help you hack into those if you need me."

"I can definitely use the search software, but I have my own black book of contacts and access passwords to get me into the right data bases."

Jack closed the meeting with "O.K., we all have our assignments for the next day or two, so let's get to it."

#

Jack was still hunched over his computer at 2 a.m. when Lynn come in and spoke to him.

"Aren't you tired, Jack? You've been sitting there for six hours straight."

"I'm doing O.K. My shoulders and back are complaining loudly, but I can tolerate it."

Lynn swung his office chair around to face her. "I'm in charge here and I have declared a break for you. Come over and lay face down on the bed and I'll massage your hurts."

Jack gave in and did what she asked. Lynn went into the bathroom and came out with a bottle of lotion. "You will have to take your shirt off, Jack. Unless you're self-conscious about your skinny muscles. You probably wear padding under your T-shirts to bulk you up and impress me."

Jack laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head. "No they're all mine – what's left of them, anyway. I haven't worked out in almost a month."

Lynn poured some lotion in her hand and leaned over his back to start the massage. "What are those scars on your back, Jack! You have four round scars that look like . . . Oh my God. Are they from bullet wounds?"

"Yeah, just some souvenirs from my secret agent past. I have a couple more in my chest."

Lynn said with concern "Do they hurt. Is it alright for me to rub lotion on them?"

"They don't hurt anymore. They did for the first year or so, especially in cold weather, but now they're mostly numb."

She put some lotion on his back and started her massage. Jack fell asleep after only a few minutes. If he wasn't careful he was going to burn out in a few days. He needed some rest.
Chapter 36

Charles Winston stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling, frameless corner window in his penthouse apartment. He loved the view from up here, with the entire financial district of Atlanta laid out below him. His apartment was on the 41st floor of a new office tower he built as corporate headquarters for his largest company, Winston Financial Holdings. It was the mother ship for fifteen other subsidiary companies he owned in the investment and financial world. His lawyers had set up the subsidiaries, along with several shell companies, with indistinct lines of separation to make it impossible for Government auditors to figure out which firms held specific assets. He used this structure to keep the Government from robbing him of his income through their unfair tax system. His financial success was due entirely to his genius for investing, and the way he saw it, they had no right to any of it. He realized that tax money kept the country moving, and he was willing to pay a fair amount for that, but only if every other working person in the country paid their share. If his plan worked, he would have a flat tax in place within a year after the election.

His senior assistant called him over the intercom. "The participants for your one p.m. meeting are all here waiting in the conference room on the 40th floor."

"Thank, you Elaine. I'll be down in a minute." He waited ten minutes, then went down for the meeting. Being late reminded them of who was the alpha dog, as if they needed reminding.

Winston strutted into the conference room and stood at the head of the table. Even though he was a short man at 5 feet 4 inches, his well-muscled stature gave him a commanding presence. His $40,000 Desmond Merrion suit didn't hurt, either.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I'm glad you could all make it to the meeting."

Retired District Judge Horatio Walker thought to himself 'He says that like we had a choice.' He looked around the conference table at the other six committee leaders - former FBI Director of Operations, James Norton, head of security; Roberta Flores, head of immigration reform; Senator Eugene Hughes, head of congressional restructuring and election control; Patrick Parker, Bill Clinton's foreign affairs advisor, in charge of restructuring U.S. relationships with the rest of the world; retired Army Chief of Staff General Alexander Russell, leading the military force realignment effort; and former chief of the IRS, Barbara Bennett, head of the flat tax planning committee. Judge Walker's job was lining up new appointments for the District and Supreme Court vacancies that would soon appear. A formidable team indeed, assembled to bring about the most sweeping change in the U.S. Government since Franklin Roosevelt's socialist takeover.

"The agenda for the meeting today will start with a review by each committee chief of the status, progress, and obstacles encountered over the past month. Mr. Norton, give us an update on security.

"As you know, one of our priority tasks is to eliminate all links to the counterfeit contract embezzlement records. We have dealt with three of the agents involved, and are closing in on the other three."

Winston interrupted. "Explain what you mean by 'closing in', James. I talked to George Jenkins, head of Blackworth Security this morning, and he told me they had lost contact with all three of the others – Preston, Gutierrez, and Goodman. Now you tell me you are closing in!"

"A bad choice of words, Mr. Winston. We believe they have teamed up with each other and gone into hiding somewhere in the mid-Atlantic states, but we haven't been able to determine just where, yet."

"James, don't lie to me! If anyone on this team lies to me, you're out. I'll replace you in a heartbeat. Mr. Norton, consider yourself warned."

"Yes sir. I'll get with George at Blackworth as soon as this meeting is over."

"Don't bother. I fired him this morning and arranged to have two of his major Government contracts cancelled. Find another security firm that knows how to solve this problem. I expect to have those three dealt with by the end of the week!"

"Ms. Flores, please give an update on your plans to put all illegal immigrant workers out of work so they will have to return to their home countries."

"Yes sir. The backbone of the plan is to impose a tax penalty of $1,000 per worker per day on any company that hires undocumented aliens. Notice that it's not a monetary fine. That would require us to take the employer to court to prove the alleged infraction. The liberal lawyers would keep the cases tied up in court for years, allowing the employers to continue what they are doing. But by making it a tax penalty, we can impose it by executive order and immediately confiscate assets of any company that doesn't comply. The second feature of the plan is to remove all illegals from the welfare rolls. Then we won't have to ship them out of the country; they will run for the border themselves to get back where they can live for pennies a day. As it is now, Mexico's second largest import is the cash undocumented workers send home to their families. We need to put a stop to that drain on our economy."
Chapter 37

Lynn came in to Jack's room up at 8 a.m. "Wake up, sleepy head. It's about time for breakfast. By the time you shower and shave, it will be on the table."

Jack mumbled "Give me another 30 minutes. What does Chef Rick have for us this morning?"

"I believe it's eggs Benedict a la mode with a cherry brandy topping and fermented coffee beer."

Jack was about to put his head back down on the pillow, but did a double take and looked up at her. "What did you say? . . . I must still be dreaming."

"You heard me, Jack. But I made that up to get your attention. Come on, roll out of there."

Jack sat up and rubbed his eyes. "O.K., give me 10 minutes."

#

The others were already eating and deep in conversation when Jack came into the kitchen. "Did I miss anything?"

Tom said "Yeah, the fermented coffee beer is all gone," and they all broke out laughing. Rick handed him a plate with scrambled eggs, ham, and country biscuits and gravy. Jack's eyes lit up. "Now that's what I call a real man's breakfast."

"We were just talking about where we were in our action items."

"Where are we? Did I miss anything by getting down here late?"

"Not really," Lynn said, "We were trying to figure out how long it will take each of us to get something worthwhile. Tom thinks he can have the information on which security firms might be involved by this evening, but that piece of the puzzle will need a lot more work to find the specific firm."

Rick spoke up, "I have already connected with my banking data sources and I'm just waiting for Jack's magic search software."

"Well, about that. It seems that Lynn put a sleeping spell on me last night, so I'll need another couple of hours this morning to finish it up."

Lynn said "The tasks Harriet and I are doing will definitely take awhile. She will need to go through all the Congressional election results for the past six years or so, and then follow up on the voting records of the new people in Congress. I found a list of the top 100 most powerful businessmen and politicians in the U.S., but finding voice videos on all of them will take awhile."

"I may be able to help you out there," Rick said. "As part of my real estate financial dealings, I have access to the archives of Fox News and CNN. I can get you connected to them to get video clips of anyone who is anybody. Once you have a list of names, it should go quickly."

Rick had another idea to speed up Harriet's search. "The two extremes in Congress are, of course, liberals and conservatives. If we assume, and that's always dangerous, that the Boss Man wants to take the country further toward one of these extremes or the other, Harriet can rank the suspects – Congressmen – on a sliding scale based on their political leanings. If she see's one or the other side of the list growing too fast, that might be a clue."

"Anything else?" Jack asked. "Good, we have a full day ahead of us so let's get busy. Rick, while I finish up the search software why don't you show Lynn how to connect to the news network video archives. Let's pause for a quick lunch later and then get together before supper to see where we are."

#

At five o'clock Jack got everyone together in Harriet's room for a progress discussion. "Harriet, why don't you lead off."

"I found a web site from the Brookings Institute that has statistics and information on elections going back decades. From that I created a list of all elected congressmen and senators for the past six years. I'm going to examine their campaign positions and voting records and rank each on an arbitrary scale of one through ten. One is highly conservative and ten is highly liberal. I'll put all this on an computer spreadsheet so I can rank them in order based on their conservative-liberal score, the year they were elected, or any other factor I choose. Hopefully some kind of useful pattern will emerge."

"How far along are you on that work?"

"It's not going as fast as I hoped it would, Jack. I have the spreadsheet finished and have started entering candidate data, but it will take another day to complete."

Lynn added a thought. "If getting the Boss Man's presidential candidate elected is based on discrediting other candidates, maybe they used a similar approach to eliminate candidates competing with their choices for congress. Is there a way you could look to see if scandals were used to knock some of the competition out of the running so their candidate would win?"

"That's a great idea, Lynn. As soon as I get this initial data entered and organized, I can look at the individual elections to see how they overcame their opposition."

Tom spoke up next. "I have a list of security firms who would take on surveillance jobs of this nature. They would need enough skilled personnel and equipment assets to try to keep track of Jack and come after me. But if the security firm is behind the killings and the attempts on Harriet's life, there's a very limited list of security people who will do that kind of work - and that list includes some clandestine Government agencies. Of course, it's possible that the security people were only responsible for keeping track of us, and the Big Man hires out the killings to someone else."

"The thought that a Government agency might be behind this whole conspiracy is frightening. That would mean the Boss Man might be someone already in power in the Government who is trying to mold it for his purposes. If we have to fight the Federal Government on this, I afraid we are far outclassed."

"Good point, Jack, but trying to hold a conspiracy within the government a secret for very long is nearly impossible. If too many people know about it, one of them will decide it's their duty to be a whistle blower.

Getting back to my search, I did find something that caught my attention. One of the leading firms that could be doing the surveillance, Blackworth, had two major Government contracts cancelled for no apparent reason. These multi-million dollar contracts were almost half of their business, so they must have really pissed somebody off. I'll keep exploring that."

Jack turned to Lynn next. "How is your hunt for a gravelly voice coming?"

"Slow. Slow and boring. I have listened to the first dozen men on my 100 most powerful people list, and haven't found one yet. I have to search for them one at a time in the news archives, wait for the video to load, and listen to their voice. It might go faster if Tom sat with me, but he has his own work to do."

Jack thought for a minute. . . "I have an idea that might help you, Lynn. I think I can automate the process with some more custom software that find the people on your list, extract only the audio part of the video, which can be downloaded in a few seconds, then string them all together into one long series of audio clips for Tom to listen to. As soon as he hears them speak a few words, he can jump ahead to the next clip if it's not the voice he remembers. I think I can write the software in a couple of hours after supper, then you can start with it first thing in the morning."

"Another great idea from my computer genius. We might have a suspect picked out by supper tomorrow."

Jack looked at Rick, indicating it was his turn.

"Your search software is working well, Jack, but with the huge number of bank transactions to sift through, it's still a slow process. My low-cost laptop takes forever. So far I haven't found anything that looks interesting."

"You need a high end laptop like Lynn's, Rick. Harriet and Tom could use one, too. It would be great if I wasn't a wanted man. I could hop in my truck and find a good computer store to pick out just what you need."

Rick spoke up: "I'm the only one here that the Bad Guys aren't looking for, Jack. If you can tell me what to get, I can run out tomorrow and buy them."

"O.K. First thing in the morning I'll call around and find a store with what we need. I'll have them set it aside for you to pick up."

"Good. I'll put it on my credit card." Jack thought about that. "Rick, it's possible they have added your name to the their BOLO list, so I'll give you some cash. I brought a lot of it with me so I wouldn't have to leave a trail of bank withdrawals."
Chapter 38

"Elaine, get Norton on the phone for me."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Winston. What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me what you are doing about catching these people for me!"

"Yes sir. Yesterday I hired another security firm to take over from Blackworth. These guys operate under everybody's radar and aren't afraid to break the law to get the job done. They already have people putting some high tech surveillance gear on the major highways around D.C that will read license plates passing by and compare them to the list of known plate numbers used by our subjects, and by their friends and families. We know Preston and his woman have changed their plates twice, but those are on the search list also.

The new security firm has also installed wireless video cameras on many of the Interstate underpasses that use pattern recognition to match the type of cars the subjects have been driving and, if it gets a look into the front seat, it can do face recognition on the driver. If they drive anywhere within a 250-mile radius of D.C., this surveillance system will transmit a notification. Then the security firm will dispatch ground vehicles and helicopters to get a closer look, and if there's even a hint it might be one of them, they'll be followed."

"That's going to take a lot of staff, James. How many have they assigned to our case?"

"Over two hundred people, sir. They have a large network of part-time staff on retainer all over the area who can be on the road within minutes of being alerted. They each have a custom GPS systems that will guide them to vehicles we identify, and secure communications equipment to connect with headquarters."

"It sounds like they know what they are doing. What's the name of this firm and what are they going to cost me?"

"To ensure that you have deniability in this, sir, it's best if you don't know who they are. As far as cost, I gave them an operating budget of $250,000, with more available if they need it."

"They had better be worth it, Norton. Remember, when you locate where they are staying, don't take any action until you contact me. We want them alive so we can find out how much they know and who else they might have told."

#

Jack put the finishing touches on the software to speed up Lyn's search for Mr. Gravel Voice and looked at the clock. It was close to midnight so he closed his computer and went down to the kitchen for a glass of wine before he turned in. Lynn had beat him to it; she was sitting on the couch, legs tucked up under her, with a glass of red wine in her hand. She was looking through the picture window at a full moon rising over the rolling Virginia farmland. He saw she had already poured a glass for him so he took it over to the couch and sat beside her.

She broke her gaze from the moon and turned to him. "I thought you would be down soon. How is the software coming?"

"It's all set up. It will only take a few minutes to show you how operate it, and then you can get to work."

Lynn started to slide over to Jack's end of the couch when she paused. "I've been trying to keep my distance since the other night when Helen's memories surfaced. Are you still struggling with being depressed over it?"

"I'm not quite back to normal on that, but I have missed holding you in my arms. Come on over here and snuggle up."

They sat quietly, spoon fashion on the couch with Jack's arms around her, for several minutes. Lynn had been thinking about telling him all afternoon, but was having trouble getting the courage to do it. Was it too soon? Would it affect the warm relationship they shared now? She decided to go ahead.

"Jack, . . . I think I have fallen in love with you."

Jack paused for what seemed like forever. She held her breath waiting to see what he would say. "That describes my own feelings pretty well, Lynn. I think I am falling in love with you. I still have some feelings that I'm betraying Helen when you're in my arms, but keeping the sexual part of the relationship on hold for now helps with that. If we just let our love grow at its own pace, it will be a better relationship in the end."

"Thanks for sharing that, Jack. As much as my body is telling me to get on with it, I think you're right about keeping it slow for now. But whenever you think it's time, let me know."

#

Over breakfast Tom was eager to tell everyone the results of his work from last night. I called a couple of contacts I know at Blackworth Security and got some exciting information. The level of confidence in what they told me isn't high – it's basically water cooler gossip. But the word is that Blackworth's Government contracts were cancelled because of their poor performance on a private security job for a very important person. The guy apparently had enough pull in the Government to have them cancel the contracts just because he asked them to."

"How is that relevant to our work?" Rick asked.

"Well, it's a long shot, but the case they screwed up could have been the search for us. They have had us all in their sights but we kept slipping away. Maybe when I escaped from the interrogation it was the last straw."

Lynn added "If you're right about that, Tom, the VIP could be our Mr. Big Man. Maybe even Mr. Gravely Voice."

"I think we're on to something with this. Let's continue with our investigations and see if they converge on the same conclusion. In the meantime, I'll find a store with the computers we need and send Rick on his way."

Thirty minutes later Rick left, headed for the Galleria Mall at Tyson's Corners. The round trip would take almost two hours, but it was the closest place Jack could find with the computers he wanted. There wasn't much sense in continuing their work on slow computers, so Jack declared a break until after lunch, except for Tom who was still working his phone contacts. They all did what they each found the most relaxing – a couple of them slept, and Lynn busied herself with housework.

For Jack, thinking was the best kind of relaxing. His A.D.D. mind never stopped running full throttle, so he liked to sit in a comfortable chair and turn it loose on a problem or two he was wrestling with. This morning it settled on what Tom had told them. Jack played "what if?" with several scenarios, looking for the ones that seemed most likely given the limited amount of information they had. One idea bubbled to the surface. What if we could find information from the Government records about the two cancelled contracts. Would that lead us to who had them cancelled – the Big Man?

He jumped up and went upstairs to his computer. He tried several search terms looking for the cancelled contracts, but nothing popped up. Maybe if he narrowed the search terms to include only the past week, and the name Blackworth, that would get him something. Still no hits. How about if he made a list of the Government Agencies most likely to have big security support contract with Blackworth, and did a separate search with one agency at a time.

Thirty minutes later he had it. The NSA, National Security Agency, had a 4.6 million dollar contract with Blackworth. He didn't see anything about it being cancelled, but since it just happened, the news may not have hit the internet yet. Jack copied down the contract number and continued his search of other agencies who might hire Blackworth. It only took five minutes this time. It was so obvious he should have tried it first – the Secret Service. They protected the President and other personnel from the Executive Branch, and would need a lot of outside help to set up security on the President's trips. And Blackworth was one of their biggest providers. Over eighteen million dollars last year alone. As he dug into the details of the contract he hit pay dirt. The Blackworth contract had been cancelled just two days ago! 'Now I'm getting somewhere," he thought.

Jack was about to hack into the Federal Contracts Agency, the administrator of these contracts, when his cell phone rang. It was Rick. "Jack, I think I have a problem. I picked up the computers and as I drove out of underground parking a dark full-sized SUV followed me. I didn't think much about it until I got onto the highway and saw it behind me – three cars back. I exited, drove around a bit, I got back on the freeway, and there it was again. I just exited again into downtown Reston and stopped at a restaurant. I don't see them now, but I'm not trained in this stuff like you and Tom are. What should I do?"

"If they didn't tail you to the restaurant, they probably put a bug on your car so they can pick you up again when you get back on the highway. But they may have someone watching you anyway. Just keep chatting on the phone like you're talking to a friend while I think about what to do. . . ."

"O.K., here's what we'll do Rick. I'll put on a disguise, then take Lynn's Jeep to a commuter Park and Ride here in Leesburg, where I'll hot-wire a car from the parking lot. I'll call you with the make, color, and license number once I'm on my way to Reston. There's a parking garage in Reston Town Center. When I get there I'll call again and tell you where I'm parked. You casually leave the restaurant, drive to the parking garage, and make a quick turn into the Reston Parkway entrance. Drive quickly to where I'm parked, get out of your car, toss the computers into my backseat, and climb in after them. You lay down on the floor as I leave by another exit and get onto the freeway. I'll watch for any cars tailing me and, if we're clear, I'll return the car to the Park and Ride here in Leesburg. We'll get back into the Jeep and come on back here. You can call one of your employees to go pick up your car and drive it back to your home."

"That sounds like a plan, Jack. I'll be waiting for your call."

#

Jack's plan worked smoothly. No sign of a tail, even after they switched back to the Jeep. He had put on another set of license plates before he left just in case there was a police BOLO alert on the Jeep.

When they got back to the farm Jack took the computers upstairs and got them set up with the programming they needed. He linked all three of them to the master computer he kept hidden at his cabin, and programmed them to automatically transfer data to it every ten minutes. That would provide an up-to-the-minute backup of everything they were working on here at the hide away in case something went wrong. He took the computers to Rick, Harriet, and Tom and got them started on their searches. Then he went to get Lynn started on the audio search program he created to speed up the voice search.

Once he was satisfied that everyone else had what they needed, Jack went back to hacking into the Federal Contracts Agency files to get information about the cancelled contract. It took him a couple of hours, but he finally downloaded the complete contract file. The most recent entry was the authorization to terminate the contract, and a note that the request had come from a high-ranking senator – Senator Matthew Roberts of Idaho. Could he be the Boss Man they were searching for? Jack looked up his background and political leanings, and found that he was a conservative republican with strong opinions about how poorly the country was being run by the current liberal administration. His stand on all the major issues was the exact opposite of the President's positions. He wasn't currently in the running for the Republican presidential nomination, but there were hints that he might step in later in the race. Maybe he wasn't the Boss Man at all; maybe he was the candidate hand-picked by the Boss Man to be the next President.

By suppertime, everyone had made good progress. Lynn had an audio CD with a few dozen U.S. and world leaders with a voice that might fit Tom's description. She would sit down with Tom after supper and let him listen his way through the recordings to see if he could recognize one of them. Rick was over half finished with his search of transfers out of U.S. financial institutions into Caribbean offshore accounts, and Harriet had over 100 senators and congressmen categorized based on their political positions. Jack told them what he had found out about Senator Roberts and his thoughts on how he might fit into their hypothesis. Things were moving faster than anyone expected.
Chapter 39

Jim Norton put down the phone and smiled. Mr. Winston was going to love this news. Jim wanted to run upstairs and tell him, but remembered Winston was in England for a conference. It would be late there, probably past his bedtime, so maybe he should wait until morning. He was between the usual rock and a hard place again. 'If I call him now, he might be really mad that I woke him up. And if I wait until it is morning over there to call, he might be just as mad because I didn't call as soon as I knew.' Jim did a mental coin toss and the morning call came up a winner, which was fine with him. The longer he could postpone Winston's anger the better.

To help appease the expected anger, Jim started planning how to approach the farmhouse. There were no nearby neighbors, so if there was a gunshot or two, no one would call the police. He had to be really careful that the security team didn't kill or seriously wound one of them, or he wouldn't be able to interrogate them. Helicopters were a non-starter because they would hear them coming – without the surprise factor shooting was more likely that and that could get someone hurt. The new security firm had lot's of people on their payroll but, to keep this secret, there were only a dozen or so that could be trusted. The farm was in the middle of a large cleared area, so there was no way to sneak up on them during the day. It would have to be a nighttime operation, and that meant more chances for the unexpected. Jim decided to sleep on it and talk to Winston in the morning.

#

"At breakfast Harriet announced "I'm busting out of prison today! Rick is going to unhook me from my cable cage and carry me downstairs to the couch in front of the picture window. I can finally look out at the world again. I'll need to get the cast removed sometime in the next couple of weeks, but there's no hurry. I have some crutches to use until then." Everyone cheered and gave her a hug. Then they all got back to work and agreed to meet after lunch for a progress review.

Tom had reviewed Lynn's voice collection last night but found nothing close to what he was listening for. She had immediately started to work on finding more names and voice clips. She should have a new CD with over a hundred political and corporate power players on it by noon. She prioritized them with the low-pitched rugged voices first. Maybe Tom wouldn't have to go through them all.

Harriet had put together a three-dimensional matrix of all the senators and congressmen now serving, along with some likely to be elected for the next term. The matrix ranked them on several characteristics so that the ultra conservatives were grouped near the top right corner and the ultra-liberals near the lower left corner. All the cells were color coded based on their party affiliation; red for Republicans, blue for Democrats, and yellow for Independents. She also shaded the cells of Tea Party Republicans a lighter shade of red that the other Republicans. She would have the finishing touches on it in an hour or so.

After lunch Harriet connected her laptop display to the 50-inch TV screen and unveiled her matrix. After explaining her system for categorizing the candidates she let them take it all in for a bit. . . . "Alright, tell me what patterns you see here?"

Rick said "The most immediate thing that jumps out at me is the cluster of light red Tea Party members in the top right corner. I mean, that's to be expected given their political objectives in congress, but seeing them all together like that really makes them stand out. And they are all recently elected. What if you hide those for a minute?" Harriet removed the Tea Party cells. "There are still several solid red names up in that corner, and most of them were elected over he last six years."

Tom asked "What about the grouping of the liberals in the lower left? How does it compare.?"

"There is a pretty tight grouping of Democrats there, but I noticed that most of them have been around a lot longer that the average ultra-conservative Republican." Harriet replied. "So if we are looking for a building movement culminating in the upcoming election it has got to be the ultra-conservatives."

Jack jumped in at this point. "I've done a deep background search on Senator Roberts, and the image he projects now is well to the right of a moderate, but not so far that it would lose many moderate voters. But when I looked at his political leanings earlier in his career, he was as far right as one can be. And his survivalist, red-neck constituents in Idaho loved him. During his first few years in the Senate his votes were all way to the right. But starting five years ago, he started softening his hard right positions. I think that was designed to make him more electable in the upcoming Presidential election. If I'm right about this, and he does get elected, I believe he will revert to his true ideology."

Lynn thought for a few minutes while the others talked about Jack's ideas, then spoke up. "Matthew Roberts isn't even in the race for the republican nomination, and a couple of states will have their primary elections in early February – three months from now. Remember that, so far, our theory is just that, a hypothetical scenario. As we gather more information, it seems to strengthen our theory, but maybe that's because we're too focused on that scenario. We need to be careful to keep an open mind for other scenarios that we can't see yet. "

"Good point, Lynn. The tipping point for our hypothesis will be if Roberts jumps into the race. Also, we need to keep a close watch on the campaigns to see if any of the false embezzlement files are used to knock out other candidates."

"There's one other thing I want to go back and check on for the recently elected conservatives, Jack. I want to look at the campaigning history of these people and see how they defeated their opponents. Was it big money paying for more and better ads that the other guy could afford? Or maybe information on a scandal was leaked to the press. Maybe it was just a flurry of negative ads against the opponent just before the election. I'll start on that this afternoon, but it will take me a couple of days."

"Don't forget to back up all your work on the memory sticks Rick brought back. I have automatic updates going to my hidden master computer back at the cabin, but we need the extra precaution of memory sticks. Rick, how is your search for the source of the transfers to the Caribbean accounts coming."

"With Jack's search program I now have a short list of suspect financial institutions that might have transferred the money for the embezzlement frame-up jobs. All of them transferred money of the right amounts to foreign banks during the right time frame, but without the bank's name and the account numbers the money went to, I can't find out for sure which bank was the source of the money. Of course, it's possible that more than one of these banks were involved, with two or three different sources for the five deposits we know about."

"Where can we go from here on that, Rick."

"Well, if we get an idea who the Big Man behind all this might be, we could look for a connection between him and the banks on my list. But for now, this line of investigation is a dead end. Of course, if Tom can identify the voice he's looking for from Lynn's voice recordings, we might have a suspect."

"Tom, any luck on you search for the security firm that may have taken over from Blackworth? If it was Blackworth that grabbed you, and they got fired, then Big Man would have to immediately find someone else to take up the job of finding us."

"There are a few well-known firms that could do it, Jack, and some lesser-known operations that operate under everyone's radar. But without more to go on, they will be tough to identify. Since Boss Man has needed some lethal work done on us, I'll start with the firms who aren't afraid to work outside the law."

"Well, let's get back to work, then. Harriet, you did a lot of work on that matrix so why don't you take a nap on the couch for a while."
Chapter 40

George Winston was shaving when his satellite phone rang. He saw it was from Norton so he put it on speaker phone and answered. "I hope you have some good news for me."

"Yes sir, I do. Really good news. The license plate video system picked up Harriet Goodman's car near Tysons Corner – that's in Virginia. the . . ."

"I know where Tysons Corner is, dammit! Get on with it. What's the bottom line here?"

"They are staying at a vacant farm house outside of Leesburg."

"How do you know that for sure?"

"The security guys tracked Harriet's husband, Rick, to a parking garage at the Galleria Mall. While he was shopping, they put a bug under his car and when he left, they followed him. He left the freeway at Reston, ate some lunch, then moved his car to the Towne Center parking garage. They immediately called some of their network people in the area and had all the exits covered in less than five minutes. Apparently Rick sensed he was being followed, and called for someone to pick him up. A car pulled into the garage and Rick got in quickly. The security team got the car license plate and put it into the tracking system – it was a stolen car, by the way – and tracked them back to a Leesburg Park and Ride lot. When . . ."

"You're rambling again. Get to the point."

"That's what I was about to tell you. Guess who picked him up? Jack Preston! We didn't know that until they got to the Park and Ride, when they got out of the stolen car and into Preston's truck."

"You're sure it was him?"

"He had on a pretty good facial disguise but they took a photo and had their computers calculate the facial metrics – the things you can't hide with a disguise – and it was a match for Jack Preston's face."

Norton waited for Winston to say "Good job, Mr. Norton." but he should have known better. Instead he got the dreaded question, "When did all this happen?"

"Well, we didn't get Preston's identity confirmed until late yesterday, and it was already pretty late in London, so I didn't want to wake you."

"What! You knew and didn't call me at once? You incompetent idiot! Do something that stupid again and you will be out of a job, Norton. Keep me informed with up-to-the minute reports on this. And wake me up if you have to."

"Yes sir, I understand."

"Do you have a plan in place to take them someplace for interrogation before they disappear?"

"I wanted to get your input on that, sir. The security team chief and I put an operation outline together. You should find it in your email inbox. We're waiting for your approval so we can put it together for tomorrow night. In the meantime we have a surveillance team watching the house and a drone standing by to follow anyone who leaves."

" I'll get back to you in a couple of hours."

#

It was mid afternoon and Jack was upstairs at his computer checking the security sensors and cameras at his cabin. So far, nothing has triggered any alarms since the Bad Guys searched his cabin after he went on the run. Then Harriet called up from downstairs. "Jack, come down here. You need to see something. And bring your binoculars."

Jack went down and sat on the couch with her. "Look, way over there. . . at the edge of the property where the tree line starts. There are a couple of guys walking among the trees."

Jack raised his binoculars. "They look like hunters – camo coats and hats, shotguns under their arms. Turkey and quail season has probably started, so they are trying to flush something out."

"But this is the third time I have seen them in the last hour. They just keep going back and forth past that same area."

"Good eyes, Harriet. This may be something to worry about. Let me go back upstairs and check the other property borders through the bedroom windows."

Jack came back in just a few minutes. "There's another pair of hunters out at the back end of the property, behaving just like these two in front. Someone has us under surveillance. Let me think about this for a bit, then I'll get the others so we can decide what to do about it."

Jack rounded up the others in the Living room thirty minutes later and explained the situation. "I've only spotted four people in the surveillance team, two in front and two in back, which means they're just keeping an eye on us until a larger assault team is put together to close in. We can't let that happen, so we need to get away from here. If we go this afternoon they can follow us from the air, so we'll have to wait until dark. Harriet, check on your computer and see when the moon comes up tonight so we can leave before then."

"The moon rises at 11:42 tonight, Jack."

"Then we should leave an hour and a half before that, as soon as it's really dark out there. That gives us six hours to make a plan, get the cars loaded up, and decide where we will go. I've laid out a tentative plan but I'll need any inputs you have.

First item is how we get out of here. Rick will drive Lynn's Jeep with Harriet and Tom. Lynn and I will be right behind you in my truck. We'll take O'Malley with us. The key is to surprise them and get out before they can react. I looked at this place on Google Earth, and there's a track through woods on the west side of the property that will take us to a county road. When we get there, Rick, you turn right and follow the road to across the river to Rosemont, Maryland. We'll turn left and pick up Highway 7 to Winchester. From there I printed some maps with directions to my cabin 30 minutes outside of Mill Creek, West Virginia. It's about a four-hour drive from here, so it will still be dark when we get there. I printed out an overhead photo with a clearing marked about a mile from the cabin. Whoever gets there first will park there and give the other a call.

Tom, you and I will leave the cars there and walk the perimeter of my property looking for signs of surveillance. The Bad Guys may have placed some wireless cameras, both inside and outside the cabin. These cameras don't transmit video unless the motion sensor gets triggered by someone walking within 25 feet. I have a laser gadget in my truck that will disable the motion sensors from as far away as 50 feet, so we'll have to spot the cameras before we get too close. I'll use night vision goggles to look for the heat emissions from the camera power supplies. We should be able to see them from at least 50 feet. Question, Tom?"

"If there are cameras inside the house, the sensors will pick us up as soon as we enter. What do we do about those?"

"Good question. We'll look in the windows to spot any cameras that cover the entrance and disable them. Then I can go inside and check out the other rooms one at a time by sticking my head around the edge of the door. If I see a camera, I can peek again and disable it with the laser. The motion sensor won't trigger unless I show most of my body. Once I have the house cameras disabled I'll give Rick a call so he and Lynn can bring the trucks down into the garage. I'll have the doors open so you can roll in quickly. So is everybody on board with that part of the plan?" They all nodded.

"Good. let me have all your cell phones before we leave and I'll take the batteries out so they can't track us. I have a box full of unregistered throw-away phones in the truck, so we can have two of those in each vehicle. Tom, you're a short, skinny guy. Would you go out and slide under the trucks to make sure they haven't managed to sneak a bug on them? While you're doing that, I'll put another set of license plates on them."

" Next up is what to do if we get chased or pick up a tail. If we get chased on the way out of here, I'll deal with that. If we get chased after we split up, both trucks have big engines, so try to outrun and outsmart them. That's why I want you driving Lynn's Jeep, Tom. You and I have been trained in evasive driving so we stand a better chance of getting away. Lynn and I have our side arms with us. How about you two?" as he looked over at Tom and Harriet.

"They took mine when they captured me"

"Mine is locked up at home. I haven't been back since I went to the hospital."

Rick added " I have a revolver at home, but nothing with me."

Jack responded "I carry some extras in my truck. I'll give all three of you a semi-automatic pistol with plenty of extra bullet clips for quick reloading. I also want a rifle in each vehicle in case we need it. We're talking life and death here, folks, so don't hesitate to start shooting if you have to, if only to slow them down."

Rick volunteered to fix supper for them. "How do steaks, baked potatoes, and a salad sound?"

"It sounds like a prisoners last meal on death row." Lynn added somberly.
Chapter 41

By dark they had everything loaded in the trucks – guns, some changes of clothes, and the maps that Jack made them all memorize. Jack had also stored his cabin's location in both GPS units, and got out some night vision binocular for both vehicles.

They kept a lookout at the house windows for infrared signatures of people or trucks in case an attack group was forming already, but everything stayed quiet until it was time to leave. They turned the lights out downstairs first, then turned off the upstairs lights to make it look like they were going to bed.

Tom stopped in the kitchen and scribbled something on a note pad, then they got into the trucks and pressed the garage door remote control. Rick backed the Jeep out first, followed by Jack's truck. They hit the gas and sped toward the opening in the woods. Tom had his lights on so he could hit the gap as quickly as possible. Jack was right behind him with his lights off, trusting Tom to find the path.

As they reached the woods, Jack saw a pair of headlights turn on behind them as a large pickup truck launched itself from among the trees to the left. He waited until Lynn had driven the truck deep into the trees where the track narrowed down, then he turned to Lynn. "Slow down up ahead and I'll roll out the door. You keep going for a couple hundred yards and wait for me. If I don't show up in five minutes or if you see lights behind you, take off and follow the route to my cabin."

"I can't leave you behind, Jack!"

"If you don't we risk letting this conspiracy take over the country. I'll get away and get back to the cabin on my own if I have to." He grabbed the rifle, opened the door, and rolled out into the trees.

Jack burrowed into the leaves and brought the M-16 into firing position. As the truck behind them approached Jack fired at the left front tire and heard a satisfying sound as the tire blew. Next he took out the headlights, then put three more rounds into the truck's radiator. With the lights out, he jumped up and ran toward where Lynn was waiting. But he was suddenly bathed in bright light as they turned on the light bar over the cab, and a shot rang out. Jack stumbled and fell, but was able to roll into the trees. He crawled deeper into the thick brush and assessed the damage. The bullet wound was in his rear end, but it didn't seem to penetrate into the hip. Right now it was numb, but it wouldn't stay like that for more than a few minutes. He needed to cover as much ground as he could before the pain hit.

Jack started moving through the brush, perpendicular to the stalled pick up a so he could keep out of their lights. He was worrying about the noise he was making until he heard the truck radiator blow up. The roar of the spewing clouds of steam gave him all the cover he needed to get a safe distance away. He stopped and listened to see if they would try to find him, but all he heard was two men arguing about who was going to report this to their boss.

He covered a hundred yards when the pain kicked in. At first it was so bad his legs gave out and he collapsed. He checked for blood flow from the wound. It wasn't gushing, so they hadn't hit an artery, but he needed to get some pressure on the wound so he wouldn't bleed out. The gluteus maximus muscles weren't well situated for a tourniquet, so he would have to improvise. He took off his jacket, shirt, undershirt, and belt. After folding the undershirt into an absorbent pad, he tightened his belt around his hips it to hold it over the wound. He put the shirt back on along with his jacket and tried to stand. After a couple of tries he stayed on his feet and started moving toward where he thought Lynn and the truck should be. He found a dead branch to use as a crutch and was able to make better time.

After ten minutes he stopped. Something was moving through the brush ahead of him. He pulled out his pistol and got behind a tree. Did the surveillance team come looking for him after all? There was only one of them, so he waited until he passed, pointed the gun at his back and said quietly "Freeze. Don't make a sound or you're dead. Face down on the ground. Now! Hands where I can see them. Toss your gun into the brush."

The man complied, spreading his arms and legs out wide. Jack picked up the pistol, a Glock 9 mm. He kept his distance – well-trained fighters could cover eight feet quicker than he could react, although this one didn't seem very muscular. Now I want you to roll over on your back, keeping the arms spread wide so I can get a look at you. He rolled over, but the fur-rimmed hood covered the face.

"Jack, is that you! It's me, Lynn."

"What are you doing out here, Lynn. You're supposed to be far away from here on your way to the cabin."

"Are you going to help me up or just stand there jabbering."

Jack reached down and pulled her to her feet and she immediately threw her arms around him. "I heard shots and an explosion and thought . . . Oh God, I'm glad you're safe. I hid the truck in the trees on up the road and came back to see what happened. Come on, let's get you out of here." As she pulled his hand to follow her he fell to his knees. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Yeah, I pick up another bullet wound. In my butt this time. I have a pressure pad on it, but we'll have to take it slow." Lynn pulled his arm over her shoulder to support some of his weight and they hobbled back to the truck. Lynn helped him into the front seat and saw him wince with pain as he put sat down. "How bad is it, Jack Are you bleeding a lot?"

"I don't feel blood running down my leg, so I guess not."

"We need to get you to an emergency room. Winchester is about 30 minutes away; they will have a hospital. Can you make it that far?"

"No doctors and no hospitals. They'll be watching those. Stop at the first cheap motel you come to and rent us a room. We'll stay just long enough to get me cleaned up. I have a first aid kit in the back with antiseptic, bandages, and pain medication."

#

Once they got on the county road, Lynn picked up her speed and headed for Purcellville, the closest town. As they got close she turned into a motel parking lot. She pulled out one of the false identity packages Jack had given her and checked in. She helped Jack into the room and laid him face down on the bed, then went back out and to get the first aid kit.

"O.K. Jack, lets get those pants off so I can have a look." She could tell he was in a lot of pain from his pale complexion and streaming sweat, but he couldn't pass up the chance to say "Is that an indecent proposal, ma'am?"

"You bet it is." She helped him get out of his pants and saw the blood-soaked undershirt. She slowly eased it away from the wound. "It's a pretty small hole, Jack, maybe a 22 caliber. I expected something bigger."

Jack pushed the mental fog out of the way long enough to think. "I could tell it was a rifle shot. I think this means they don't want to kill us; they want us alive so they can question us. That's a little bit of good news in all this. Take the forceps from the first aid kit and probe to see how deep the bullet went."

"This is really going to hurt. Can you handle it."

"I've been through a lot more pain than this. Go ahead a dig. If it's not too deep, see if you can get it out."

Five minutes later Jack was passed out on the bed and she had the bullet in her hand – it was a 22 caliber long rifle. They can pack a pretty good punch. He was lucky it hadn't lodged in the bone. She didn't know how long Jack would be out, so she called Harriet."

"What's the matter, Lynn. Did something go wrong?"

She explained the situation and asked Lynn what to do.

"The first thing, while he's still out, is to pack the wound with sterile gauze soaked in antiseptic. That will stop the bleeding until we can get him to the cabin.

Next, it won't do us any good to arrive at the cabin before you two, so we will check into the first independent motel we find and wait for your call. They probably already have people out looking for us, so we have to get on the road by dawn. Our separate routes to the cabin come together in Winchester, so we'll meet there and travel on to the cabin together."

Lynn was up before dawn and showered and dressed before Jack woke up. Lynn sat down beside him and nudged him awake. "You look a bit better than you did last night. Your color is starting to come back. I got some fresh clothes out of the truck. I'll help you get them on." Jack started to protest, but Lynn cut him off. "I saw you naked last night when I was cleaning you up, so there's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Where was I"

"You were out cold. You missed it. I took some pictures to post on the Internet." Lynn said with a grin.

After he was dressed he took some antibiotic pills, and a couple of painkillers from the first aid kit, and limped out to the truck. Lynn helped him get carefully situated in the passenger seat, got in the driver's seat and was back on the road just before dawn. As she drove Lynn told him about her conversation with Helen and their agreement to meet in Winchester. Jack gave Tom a call to let him know they were back on the road.
Chapter 42

The trucks pulled up side by side in the clearing overlooking Jack's property and opened the windows. Tom leaned out the window of the Jeep. "Obviously you can't walk the perimeter with me, Jack, so I'll have to go alone. But now it's broad daylight, so I'll really have to be careful of the cameras when I take out the motion sensors. Show me how to use this laser gadget, Jack."

"It's pretty simple. You just point it at the camera and push the button for three seconds. I have some cameras and sensors down there too, but mine are all but invisible. Let's hope they were a little sloppy where they put their units so you can see them. In daylight you won't have the night vision goggles to find the camera power supplies, so you'll have to rely on binoculars and sharp eyes. Take your time and be thorough. We can wait up here as long as we need to."

Tom called from the cabin an hour and a half later. "I found four cameras in the woods around the cabin and one on the front porch. The inside rooms were clean. I'll be ready to open the garage doors when the trucks get here."

Ten minutes later they were all sitting in the living room letting the tension flow out of them. Jack asked Lynn to pour him a double whiskey, straight, to help numb the pain. "Shouldn't I just pour it over the wound, Jack?" she said with a smile.

The others chimed in. "Yes, we want to see the wound. Show us your butt." Helen added "I would love to see that cute butt of yours." as she gave her husband a wink.

"Lynn is the only one who gets to see that, and only until the wound closes up."

After Jack finished his drink, he went to his room to catch up on sleep.

Lynn helped Jack out of his pants and shirt and got him down on the bed. She eased his boxers down and lifted the wound dressing for a look. "It's really swollen, Jack, but I don't see any sign of infection around the bullet hole. Harriet said I should leave the packing in the wound for a couple of days if I didn't see any sign of infection."

Lynn looked in some drawers and found a pair of Jack's pajamas. "I'll help you get these on and sit with you until you go to sleep."

Jack laid on his side and Lynn sat and held his head in her lap until he was snoring. She looked down at him and thought how close she had come to losing him last night. Tears started running down her cheeks, followed by a smile when she thought 'I love him. I really do love him.'

#

Jim Norton was in a foul mood. The head of the new security firm he hired to replace Blackworth, Alexei Brusilov – the one who told him confidently yesterday that his men had them cornered in a farmhouse in Virginia – had called in the middle of the night to report they had escaped. A search of the area was planned as soon as there was enough daylight.

Jim debated waiting until after the morning search to report to Winston, but remembered where that got him last time. It was 4 a.m. on the east coast now, so it would be morning in London. He dialed Winston's secretary and asked to be put through.

"How is the operation for tonight coming along, Norton? Is everything ready to close the trap?"

"Um . . . that's what I'm calling about, sir. It seems they slipped away from the farm late last night. There must be a leak somewhere at our end somewhere, someone who warned them."

Norton held the phone away from his ear while Winston shouted expletives through the phone. When he heard a pause, he put the phone back to his ear. ". . . Have you got that, Norton!"

"Yes sir! We may learn something when they search the area of the shooting in the morning, maybe some clue about where they went. In the meantime, Alexei is canvassing all the hospitals and veterinary clinics in the area where he may have gone for medical treatment."

"Keep me in the loop on that. What bright ideas do you have for finding them again?"

"Alexei is coming up with a search plan widening out from the farm. His men will cover every possible place they might have holed up, including barns, parking garages, and old warehouses. We don't know which way they went, so it may take quite awhile."

"Call me as soon as they finish searching the farm."

As Norton heard Winston's phone click off, he thought 'that could have been worse. He could have fired me. I'd better head out to the farm house so I can coordinate the search with Alexei.

#

When he got to Leesburg he called Alexi for directions and met him at the front gate. "Has the search turned up anything, Alexei?"

"No we just got started. We have to search carefully so we don't disturb any evidence. We waited until you got here to start on the house. Do you want to go up there now?"

"Lead the way."

Norton, Alexei, and two of his men entered the front door. "These two men were once police investigators back in Russia, but they got caught embezzling state funds and had to leave the country in a hurry. There is a contract out to have them killed, so I keep them well hidden and pay them for their loyalty. Of course, they know that if they cross me, I'll collect on that contract myself."

After searching the house they didn't find anything helpful. As they were going down into the garage Norton stopped. "What is this? Something is scribbled on this note pad."

Alexei looked over his shoulder. "It looks like a telephone number to me. With a Washington area code. Should I call it and see who answers?"

"No, not yet. I'll have my computer staff run it down and get a name and address. Then we can pay them a visit. Let's see what they came up with outside."

They walked up the hill to where the track entered the woods. The flattened brush and broken branches showed that vehicles had gone through in a hurry. Alexei led Jim down the road to where his men had left the truck. Fluid was still dripping from the cooling system, and the hood was open to show the radiator that self-destructed after taking high velocity rounds.

"Well, I can't blame your men for not continuing the chase. When they turned on the light bar what did they see?"

"A man laying on the ground with a rifle, who immediately jumped up and started running. Vasily here took a shot at him with a 22 rifle, not to kill him but to wound and stop him. The guy stumbled and fell to the ground, then rolled into the trees."

"Where do think you hit him, Vasily?"

"I was aiming for his yagoditsy – ass in English, but I don't know if that's where I hit him."

"Do you think he took a dive and rolled away to make you think you hit him, and then ran off into the woods?"

Alexei took over the conversation. "We considered that until we found blood on the ground where he fell. We rushed that to a lab for a DNA analysis to see if it matches any of them. Only Preston and Gutierrez are capable of making those shots on our pickup, and their DNA is on file. We have access to that information so the DNA search should go quickly."

"Do you have any idea which way they went?"

"Once they hit the county road they could have gone anywhere. So much time has passed now that they could be 400 miles away."

"I'm heading back to the house to call my boss. He's not going to be happy. Send your men to all the medical facilities in the area. We might get lucky."
**Chapter 4** 3

Jack slept through the afternoon and night and woke up feeling much better. As he got up pain shot down his leg, but after a few steps to limber up it was just a dull throb. He washed his face, shaved, and brushed his teeth. It felt good to be back in the cabin with all the comforts of home. He heard the others joking around the breakfast table, trying to relieve the tension of the chase. He put on a set of jogging sweats and went in to join them.

Lynn jumped up and hugged him. "You're moving around pretty well for a guy with a bullet hole in his butt. How does that feel today?

"I couldn't get a good look at it in the mirror, but I can feel that the swelling has gone down."

"Then it's time to pull out the gauze packing and stitch it closed. You want me to do that, Lynn?" Harriet said with a grin.

"No, I think I can handle it. . . . Unless Jack would prefer that you do it."

Jack spoke up right away "No, one woman in this group who has seen me naked is enough. Let me get some breakfast and painkillers in my stomach, then we'll do it."

As he ate, Jack gave some instructions. "We don't know what kind of search they're doing, but it won't take long for them to check back here. I think we need to be out of here in two days or less, and keep an eye out the windows for ground or airborne surveillance. We need to keep the trucks loaded and ready to run in case they show up. And no one goes outside for any reason. They could even be watching from a satellite drone. Lynn, lets go to my room and get this over with."

#

An hour later, they were all back at their computers continuing the work they started at the farmhouse. Lynn and Tom went over the latest audio compilation looking for the right voice. Tom asked to hear a couple of them a second time, but shook his head. "I'm about out of U.S. and foreign VIPs to listen to, Tom. Should we give up on this for now and hope you hear someone on TV that triggers your memory." Tom thought it over. "I think you're right Lynn. I'll go tell Jack."

As Harriet called up past election news footage of conservative hard liners, she started to see a pattern. In almost half of the elections, a highly funded smear campaign against the opposition was introduced in each state a couple of weeks before the elections. In some cases, the charges were based on real past transgressions, but in most cases the negative charges hit the headlines but were never verified. After the election, the people who had leaked the information disappeared from public view. In two cases the losing candidates tried to file a lawsuit for defamation of character, but weren't able to find the people who made the false accusations, or who was behind them. The accusations ranged from homosexual sex in a public restroom, complete with indistinct, fuzzy photos; to being caught in bed with one or more women on a video tape. Again the faces of the supposed candidates were out of focus, but they looked like the candidates.

Rick's search for the source of the embezzlement money was still grinding along with limited success. He had all the data and now he was guiding Jack's software through a search for patterns, something that would connect the deposit amounts to each other. He was about to take a break when the signal for a hit beeped. He looked at the results and almost shouted eureka. The five deposit amounts came from five separate financial institutions, but they were all connected to a single investment bank, Winston Financial Holdings. The connections were indirect, threading through holding companies and dummy corporations, but the software was able to ferret it out.

#

They all got together in mid-afternoon to discuss their progress. Jack summarized it for them.

"Here's where we are. Point number one – Lynn and Tom's search for Mr. Gravel Voice hit a dead end. I suggest we abandon that search for now until we have something more to go on." They all agreed.

"Point number two – Rick has found a common source for the five embezzlement blackmail deposits; Winston Financial Holdings. What do we know about that outfit, Rick"

"I'm still working on that."

Everyone was quiet for a few minutes thinking over the information they had gathered so far. Then Lynn got their attention. "We're still missing something here. Having something to derail six candidates just isn't enough to assure the presidency for a selected candidate. There must be more to it. They must be using other means to discredit some candidates, like we've seen in the elections of the ultra conservatives in congress."

Harriet had an idea. "What if the six candidates with the phony embezzlement files were squeaky clean. They had no dirt at all in their pasts that could be used against them. So, to ensure they had something to attack all the candidates with, they planted the evidence to discredit them in case they needed it. So they must have something else on all the other leading candidates, except for the anointed one, to knock off whoever comes close to their man in the late primaries."

That got Jack excited. "That's great Harriet! That was the missing piece in our theory. But if Senator Matthew Roberts is their golden boy, why hasn't he entered the race yet?"

"Well, it could either be that we're wrong and he's not the one, or they're holding him out of the race until the opportune moment."

Everyone had a big smile and passed around high fives.

"Now the hard part . . . What can we do about it? What organization can we report this to that has the power and ability to stop it? Should we go to the news media, or maybe the Attorney General? What do you think, Jack?"

"If this plan has been going on for several years and is only now coming to completion, whoever is behind it – the Big Man – has it very well planned and organized. They're bound to have contingency plans for this sort of thing.

And here's an even more serious thought. If this is about bringing America back to a conservative, limited Government that lets states and individuals make their own choices; that will limit the influx of illegal immigrants and potential terrorists; and that will rebuild a military that can put an end to militant governments with nuclear weapons who want to wipe out the country . . . do we want to stop it?"

That caused some raised eyebrows. They had been together long enough to share their views on how far toward the liberalism, almost socialism, of the current president and his advisors had taken this country. They agreed that this trend had to stop or it would destroy what made this country great – individual excellence taking a chance with an idea, and being rewarded with financial gain that can be put back into development of even better ideas. It was this competitive capitalism that created an economy where the more capable and brilliant are incentivized to create solutions to the major problems of life without the constraints of too much Government control.

Jack reminded them of this and expanded on it. "It will take a major shift away from liberalism to bring back this country where individuals can make their own choices about health care, how to spend their money, and where to send their children to school; where they can openly thank God and Christ for their blessings, and pray in public. A country where the Government doesn't waste money to convince the uninformed that they are changing the world by recycling, buying carbon offsets, and saving the Rocky Mountain spotted owl. And where the Government doesn't create a state of fear among it's citizens about climate change, terrorism, gun ownership, and corporate greed to make them think they are being saved from an apocalyptic future. We need an administration that will eliminate the unnecessary rules and regulations that take away freedom. I read a book last year about how the average American citizen commits 3.2 felonies . . . every day. We need a Government with the fiscal responsibility to stop the runaway spending and the ever-increasing taxes needed to support it.

What if the objectives of Mr. Big Guy are similar to what we're talking about? If this guy is powerful enough to engineer elections to shape the Government into something that much of the country wants to have, do we want to get in his way?"

Rick gave it some thought, then spoke up. "We are all pretty much in agreement that the country must swing back toward the conservative end of the political spectrum to remain great, to preserve individual freedom, but we don't know how far to the right the Big Man intends to take us. There are just as many perils from going too far to the right as there are with the far-left Government we have now."

Harriet agreed. "The problem is that we don't have enough information about Mr. Big and his plans for the country his boy gets into the White House. We have got to figure out who he is so we can evaluate his political views and his power. Rick, I think you found the key with the source of funding for the embezzlement deposits. Maybe the Big Man in this political conspiracy is also the Big Man at Winston Financial Holdings. Do you know who that is?"

"Not yet, but it should be easy enough to find out. I'll do that and dig into his life to see what I can find. I'll get started on that this afternoon."

Jack added "Harriet, why don't you see if you can find where the money is coming from to buy elections, blackmail the opposition candidates, and pay for the advertising. It will probably be a PAC - Political Action Group – but get with Rick to see if you can find a connection to Winston Financial."

Tom reminded Jack that they needed to be out of here tomorrow and find a place to relocate to, before the Bad Guys came to the cabin looking for them.

"Thanks for reminding me, Tom. We've been so busy piecing this plot together that I forgot about it. I haven't come up with a good place to move into. How about some ideas from you guys."

"It needs to be a remote place like this cabin, that's hard for them to get in and out of, but has a back way out for us. It needs to have cell phone and 4G internet coverage. We can keep up with the news on our computers, so it won't need a TV connection."

"Good thoughts, Tom. What else do we need? A refrigerator and freezer, and a washer and dryer?"

"We might have to stay there for awhile, and we can't expose ourselves by going shopping for food, so I think we need those, or we could live on canned goods, dry goods, and packaged meals. Do you know anywhere we can get some military MREs, Jack?"

"Government MREs – Meals, Ready to Eat – can be ordered on line, but we don't want anything that has to be delivered. I think a good approach would be to stop at some country stores along the way and stock up while we're travelling to the new place. If we buy food for a couple of months, we can figure out what to do after that."

"I'm gong to get tired of canned soup and instant mashed potatoes, but I can put up with it as long as you promise me a steak dinner when this is all over."

"That's a promise, Lynn. Why don't you all get back to what you're doing for the afternoon and I'll put a plan together we can discuss during supper."

Rick thought for a couple of minutes. "There's a net site that shows a map of every rental property that meets whatever criteria the user inputs. Let me spend some time on that and see if I can find something that will work for us. I'll have some possibilities by supper time.
**Chapter 4** 4

Jim Norton was just finishing up an e-mail to Charles Winston summarizing the details of the escape from the farm when the phone rang. It was Alexei. "What have you got for me Alexei. It better be something good because I'm about to send a progress report to my boss and I have nothing new to put in it."

"As the old joke goes, 'I have some good news and some bad news.' The good news is that they rushed the DNA testing through the lab, and the blood found in the woods is a match for Jack Preston. So my guy wounded their leader. The question is will that limit his mobility. From the amount of blood we saw we're going on the assumption that he had to seek medical care somewhere. If one of his people picked him up after he was wounded they could have driven miles away from the area if they stopped the bleeding, so we are expanding the search of all medical facilities out to a radius of 100 miles. I have four teams of people on that, so we should be finished by morning. We're also canvassing drug stores near the scene to see if anyone remembers selling the kind of medical supplies needed to treat a serious wound, and we're checking all the antibiotic and pain killer prescriptions filled in the past 48 hours."

"So is that the good news and the bad news?"

"No, here's the bad news. When we searched the farm house we found a scratch pad in the kitchen with a phone number scrawled on it. We ran it through our search program and found that it's an old-fashioned land line, with an address on file. I went there personally with a couple of my men and knocked on the door. A body guard, a Government man from the looks of him, answered and asked why we wanted to speak to the Deputy Director of the National Intelligence Office. We said we must be on the wrong street, apologized, and left. What does the NIO have to do with the fugitives?"

"We are working on that. The DNI was mentioned in the interrogation of one of the fugitives. You should have done a search on the owner of the house before you showed up there, Alexei."

"We knew you wanted this done as soon as possible, so we bypassed that step. After our visit we picked up a tail and had to drive around town until we lost them."

"If that was a Government tail, they now have your license number and will connect your company to this! We can't allow that."

"I took care of that by putting some fake license plates on the car before we left."

"I hope they haven't identified you, like maybe from a camera keeping track of visitors to the DDNI's home. Let me get this news off to the boss. I'll get back to you."

#

After reading Norton's email Winston was livid. How could five people keep evading them. They had surveillance looking for vehicle and license identification, one of the best 'no-holds-barred' security agencies in the country along with law enforcement, trying to find some trace of these people who could ruin his entire plan. Maybe he should have Norton put up photos of all of them on the internet with a $100,000 reward for information leading to their capture. But that would make the whole thing public, and secrecy was essential if his plan was going to work. He was caught between a rock and a hard place; a conundrum in his usual vocabulary. Maybe his team would have some ideas in the meeting that was about start.

He entered the conference room with his usual tardiness and called the meeting to order. "I want to start with Mr. Norton explaining why the five people who could shut down this entire operation were able to escape capture yet again."

Everyone looked at Norton, relieved that it wasn't them being called on the carpet. He explained the situation and the search strategies they were using. They had over fifty agents looking for clues based on Preston's injury and he was certain they would be caught soon.

Winston glared at him and said "You realize when this is over, when we have won the presidency, you are through here. I would do it right now but I don't have the time to find someone else I can trust to replace you." He turned to the rest of the team. "These fugitives can ruin everything if they aren't caught soon, and then all of you will be through here, so if you have any ideas how we can catch them, speak up."

Judge Walker offered a suggestion. "Can we put some cheese in a trap – something to lure them out in the open, maybe an invitation from Hermetrius to meet with them?"

"Judge, you know Hermetrius isn't a real person. It's a code name we came up with to divert any unwanted attention away from us. We set it up so if anyone searched the internet for it we would be alerted and could take action to neutralize them. So far, Preston and his group are the only ones who have been searching, and we're already working on neutralizing them."

"Of course, Winston. We know he's not real, but Preston doesn't. He thinks Hermetrius is behind whatever conspiracy his people think they have uncovered. If we could get a message to him – an email or something – I think he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to meet. The question is how do we get his email address?"

Norton had the answer to that. "When the Blackworth guys were watching him at his cabin they picked up some email traffic between him and an old girlfriend, Lynn Martin. This was before he went encrypted, so we can get his email address from the Blackworth computer records I have on file."

Winston smiled. "See to it Norton, but let me in on your plans. Now, back to our meeting. Senator Hughes, give us a summary of how we are going to get our man elected."

"As you all know, we have something bad to blackmail or smear all the relevant candidates with, Democrats and Republicans. We didn't anticipate that eleven Republicans would be in the primary election race, so there are some we are still digging up dirt on. If we don't find it we'll create it like we did for several opponents of the people we put in Congress. The debates will undoubtedly weed out some of them, but there may still be a couple we will have to deal with. There were six candidates who we couldn't find anything to use against them, so we planted forged embezzlement evidence on them. We backed that up by opening offshore bank accounts for them, with the same amount of money they were supposed to have embezzled. This scheme won't hold up for long under investigation, so we need to hold off on using that information until the last minute, and we can only use it for one or two of them.

We will wait until a month before the Super Tuesday primary day, March first, to have our man announce his candidacy, and then we will dump two billion dollars into advertizing, both positive ads making Senator Roberts appear to be the perfect candidate, and negative ads against the competition. We will keep this up through all the primaries. On the Democrat side, there are only three candidates, and Senator Forsythe had a commanding lead. We can't let him win the democratic nomination. The liberal constituency is firmly behind him. We have an embezzlement file in place for him, but we should wait until shortly before the main election to release that to the public. We also have some good attack ads under development that will add to his negative image."

"Good work, Gene. Judge Walker, tell us how we're going to get a conservative majority in the Supreme Court."

"We have serious traffic accidents and home fires planned for the liberal judges." He looked around the table at the shocked expressions. . . . "Just kidding! I wanted to see if you were all awake."

"Well if we weren't awake before your comment, we certainly are now." Roberta Flores said with an uncertain look in her eyes.

"No, we don't have to kill them. My plan is much simpler. One of the first pieces of legislation our new conservative congress will pass and President Roberts will sign is The Supreme Court Realignment Act. It will allow the president, at the start of every new four-year term of office, replace the Chief Justice and any four of the remaining eight justices."

Gene Hughes spoke up. "Question, Judge. Won't that give the liberals the same advantage if the pendulum swings back their way in the future?"

"We have built protection from that into the Bill. It has an four-year sunset provision. The court automatically reverts back to the old lifetime appointment rule at the end of each presidential term unless the new president extends it. Of course, if our long term plan works, Congress will also pass the Chief Executive Continuity Act which will extend the maximum number of consecutive terms for the president from the current two terms to four terms – sixteen years. This means if we can keep Roberts and the right wing congress in power, they will just pass a new version that will keep the court appointments under the new schedule for another eight years."

"But what if the democrats get back in power and pass similar legislation to give them five presidential court appointments."

"That fits into our long-long term plan, Roberta. During the first two terms of Matthew Robert's presidency, we will do the same conservative takeover in the liberal states that we have been doing in the U.S. congress. Once that takeover is finished, we will propose a constitutional amendment to make the four-term presidency and presidential supreme court appointments an article of the constitution. With conservative legislatures in at least 38 of the 50 states, it will be ratified and become part of the constitution."

Everyone sat quietly for several minutes, contemplating the sweeping changes this plan would make in how the government operated. It has the potential to create the kind of government we all agreed is best for the future of the United States. It has it's downside, of course, but the benefits should far outweigh the pitfalls. One at a time the team members nodded their agreement with Judge Walker's proposal.
**Chapter 4** 5

Lynn fixed trout from Jack's freezer and spiced up some wild rice to go with it. Jack broke out a couple bottles of wine and poured while everyone sat down at the table. Rick look like he had something good to say so Jack nodded at him to start off.

Rick laid out printed topographic maps with elevations and Goggle Earth aerial photos. "I found three good candidates for our new hideout, all in West Virginia and all within 250 miles from here. One is a mountain home west of Beckley. It's 30 miles from the nearest neighbor over a seriously curvy two-lane road – right here on the map – and there are some mining access roads that will provide an escape route. It's close enough to Beckley for good 4G coverage. The owner built it last year as a summer home and is trying to rent it out until spring.

The next one is at the north end of the state, up a hollow near Morgantown."

Lynn said, in her best Coal Creek accent, "We call that a holler around here, son."

After the laughing stopped Rick continued, "O.K. This 'holler' is very narrow with heavy tree cover, so they wouldn't be able to spot it from the air or land helicopters anywhere close. This is a hunting cabin that rents out year round, but it's available for the next four months. We would be roughing it there – a wood-fired kitchen stove and a fireplace for heating. It has running water piped downhill from the holler above, and two outhouses. But it does have electric power, so we could pick up a couple of space heaters for the bedrooms. Verizon's 4G coverage map shows coverage there, but it might be spotty down in a valley like that. The road leading to it dead ends at the cabin, so escape routes would be a problem."

The last place is down in Pittston county in the southwest part of the state. There are serious mountains and valleys down there, with a lot of abandoned coal mines, thanks to our president's war on coal. This house is a double wide mobile home halfway up a mountain, with a small barn for hiding the cars, and a gravel access road. The forest closes in on all sides to within 25 feet of the house, so helicopters couldn't land there. Plus, it has power, indoor plumbing, and 4G coverage. From the Google photo, it looks like there's a dirt road that climbs to the top of the ridge and down into the next valley, which has a county highway running through it. That might be a good escape route. This place has been vacant since the mine shut down, and the internet ad said they want to sell it or rent it."

Jack studied the maps and photos. "Which one is furthest from here, Rick?"

"The Pittston County site. If we stay off the interstates and stick to the mountain roads, that's about a seven hour drive. If we have to drive it at night, that will add a hour or so; we don't want to be driving the speed limit on those winding roads at night."

Jack studied the maps and photos. "I think we want all the distance we can get between where we were last sighted and our new hideout, so from that angle I like the Pittston site. Plus, it seems to fit our other criteria pretty well. I vote for that one. What do you all think?"

Everyone agreed but Lynn said with a disappointed look on her face, "Jack and I were really looking forward the wood stove and outhouses up the holler near Morgantown. Us hillbillies would feel right at home there. . . . But seriously, I like the Pittston site."

"Good. Rick, will you take care of renting this place for us? See if there's some local real estate office where we can drop off three month's rent in cash. I want to eliminate any paper trail. I'll take the rest of my money stash with us, so we won't need to access our bank accounts."

Jack continued. "O.K., here's the plan for getting out of here. I have a covered utility trailer out in my shed. Tonight, I will dismantle all the security and computer systems – surveillance equipment, the master computer, and communication gear – and pack it in the trailer. I'll also put in all my weapons, ammo, and explosives. Basically, I'm giving up this cabin for good. After this is over, I'll find a new home somewhere that the Government doesn't know about, and fortify it. In the meantime, I'll install all the security sensors and cameras at the Pittston hideaway to give us better protection."

"What can we do to help?"

"Tom and Rick, if you look down in my basement you'll find lots of canned and dry food. Pack that in boxes and put it in the trailer. Lynn, will you and Harriet put together some food for the road? I have some small coolers we can use to keep it cold. I want to get all this done before daylight tomorrow in case there is satellite or aerial surveillance checking on us. Our laptops and clothes will go in our vehicles just before we leave."

"Speaking of leaving, you didn't say when we will break out of here."

"If we leave tomorrow night, a couple of hours before dawn, we can get far enough away from here by daylight that we'll just be another couple of cars on the road. That will let us drive the worst of the mountain roads during the day. If no one has any questions, let's get busy."

#

In was midnight before Jack got everything packed and into the trailer. Everyone else had finished and gone to bed. When Jack came back into the house Lynn was waiting up for him on the living room couch. "Come over here and hug me for awhile. I need to feel you next to me." Jack smiled and plopped down next to her in the corner of the couch with one leg against the back and the other on the floor. She turned around and snuggled her back up against him so they could sit spoon fashion. Jack wrapped his arms around her and heard a satisfying sigh escape her lips. They sat like that for awhile without talking, enjoying the closeness. Lynn turned her head and looked into his face.

"Do you have any idea how afraid I was of losing you when we escaped from the farm? When you fell asleep in the motel after I patched you up, I thought about the rest of my life without you, and couldn't imagine it. I realized how much I have fallen in love with you, Jack. Now that you're safe, I like to imagine what the rest of our lives could be like . . . together." When Jack didn't answer right away, Lynn wondered if she had gone too far. He already said he wasn't ready for a close relationship yet, and now she basically had proposed to him. She expected him to unwrap his arms, turn her around, and say 'We need to have a talk.' The same words that her husband said before he left her.

Instead, he hugged her tighter. "I feel the same way Lynn. I have come to like – no need – this closeness with you. I think Helen's ghost came down, erased all my guilt, and said 'Don't let her go, Jack.' And I don't intend to . . . ever."

Lynn's heart soared as she turned herself around and laid against him. She wanted to feel his full body against her.

"You're crying. What's wrong?"

She answered "You men. You will never understand a woman's feelings and emotions. I'm crying because I am incredibly happy right now," and turned her face up to kiss him. It was just going to be a short kiss, but neither wanted to break it. And, as both of them secretly wished, it turned into a passionate kiss . . . that continued for several minutes.

Lynn reluctantly pulled away and saw the passion in his eyes. "Hold that thought for another time," she said as she got up from the sofa. "or our chastity agreement will be violated."

Jack answered with a smile, "Yeah, about that. Maybe we should re-think it when we get to the new hideout." Lynn's smile gave him the answer he was hoping for.
**Chapter 4** 6

Jack woke up early the next morning. After a shower and a shave he went over to his computer to lay out a route to Pittston County. When he opened it he saw the email message alert flashing. 'Lynn must be up to her old tricks – sending me emails when I'm right here with her.' He clicked on the alert icon and saw that it wasn't from Lynn. It was from Hermetrius!

His computer would have scanned for viruses when the email first came it, but he was worried there might be some other kind of attack software hidden in it. If he opened it on this computer it might plant some kind of bug in the memory. But he had to open it; there could be useful information in it. Maybe he could even track it back to where it was sent from.

Jack waited until he heard the others stirring downstairs and went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. As they sat around the table Jack told them the latest news. "I got an email from Herman – Hermetrius – this morning." That got everyone's attention immediately.

Harriet asked excitedly "Well, what did it say. Don't keep us in suspense!"

"I don't want to open it on my computer. They may have embedded a virus of some kind in it to attack my computer, or maybe even send out a tracking signal through the 4G internet connection. I need to open it on another computer so I can destroy the hard drive afterwards. Rick, do you have any need for your old clunker?"

"It's all yours, Jack. I already transferred all my files onto the new machine. Let me get it for you."

Lynn started fixing breakfast while Jack tinkered with getting his email account running on Rick's old laptop. He clicked on the email and read it out loud.

Hello Agent Preston,

I go by the code name Hermetrius. I'm sure you have come across the name during your investigation. I am head of an organization that has great plans for America; plans that will bring the country away from the brink of socialist collapse and back to the principles it was founded on. A country where the rights of individual citizens aren't taken away by a Government that thinks it knows what's best for us. A nation that isn't afraid to defend itself against any threat, foreign or domestic.

I don't know how much you and your group have found out about our plans, or what you intend to do with the information you might have uncovered. Our plan cannot be understood if you have only bits and pieces of it. I suspect that, with what you have found out, you believe we belong to some kind of conspiracy to take over the country. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I would like an opportunity to meet with you face to face so I can reveal the true goals of our plan, and explain how we can bring this Government back to what it should be in just a few years. Once you hear it, I'm certain that you will realize that it isn't a threat to the country, but an opportunity to create a future of freedom from an oppressive Government and from fear of terrorists attacking us from within.

I realize you may be reluctant to meet with me based on how the over-zealous security firm we hired to find you has done their job. I assure you that there will be no more of that. I will meet with you one-on-one at a place and time of your choosing, without any security people present..

Please respond at your earliest convenience.

Respectfully,

Hermetrius

Jack sent the email up to the wireless printer in his bedroom and sat back from the screen. "Wow. I didn't expect that. This may change our plans."

"So what do we do with it?" Lynn asked. "It's clearly an attempt to lure you out in the open so they can grab you and find out what we know."

Jack didn't answer for a few minutes. "It is definitely risky, but the information we get from him might give us the complete picture we need to take to the authorities. I need to figure out a way to minimize my risk when I meet him."

Lynn jumped to her feet. "Jack! You're not actually considering going to meet him. You can't. I won't let you."

"Let me disable this laptop, then we can decide what we do about this. He flipped the laptop over and removed the hard drive, the battery, and the memory chips, then took them outside, smashed them with a rock, and threw them into the lake.

As he walked back into the house he said "Here is what I think we should do – nothing. . . . for now anyway. We need to get out of here safely and into our new place. Then we can look at our options about meeting Herman."

Lynn immediately spoke up "I vote for that!" Then in a low-pitched voice "I second the motion." Then back to her normal voice, "All in favor signify by keeping your mouth shut. . . The motion is passed."

Jack grinned "Then I guess it's settled. We will postpone the danger to my life and limb until we get to the place in Pittston." Lynn gave him a playful punch in the shoulder for that last comment.

Jack added in a mock British accent, "It is 10:32 a.m. Synchronize your watches. We roll at 4:17 a.m. on the dot."

Lynn got in the last word. "I love this spy stuff!"

#

They gathered at 3:30 the next morning with all the things they would take in their vehicles. Jack brought out two portable GPS units and explained the route he planned to take to them. He didn't want any paper maps with them in case one of them got caught. Harriet poured coffee for all of them and they sat around the table watching the clock and reminiscing about Jack and Lynn's high school years, Tom's flubbed proposal to his wife, and some of Harriet's unclassified exploits as an FRA agent. At four o'clock Jack got up and headed for the Garage, with the others right behind him. He and Lynn got in Jack's truck and the others in Lynn's Jeep with Tom driving. Jack said "We are going out the way we came in, and I know that road blindfolded. There's enough moon light that we shouldn't need our headlights until we get to the highway. That will be in about twenty minutes. We'll keep in touch with the two-way headsets. They have a range of about two miles, which is good because no one can intercept our communications, and it's bad because if we get separated by more than that we will have to use our cell phones. I don't mind using them, but once we do we have to destroy them, and my supply of them is limited."

Jack climbed into his truck, hit the garage door controller, and headed up the hill with Tom 20 feet behind him.

#

By 8 a.m. they had reached the town of Pittston, a coal mining town with old, dirty stores flanking main street, and half of them for sale or boarded up. They continued out of town on Route 10 and after another half an hour arrived in an even smaller town named Combs Junction. Jack found the local convenience store – actually it was the only store and gas station in town – and pulled up at the gas pump. "Rick, will you fill us up with gas while I go in to meet the rental agent."

Jack explained his plan. "I'm going in there looking and talking like a good ole West Virginia mountain boy. I want him, and anyone else who might be in there, to think that we're one of them. These mountain folk don't take kindly to outsiders, and I want the locals on our side if we need them. Everyone in these parts distrusts the Government, so if we're one of them, they won't tell any easterners that we've been here. Lynn, if you can go along with the act hop out and let's go."

They both slipped into the slow, relaxed style of walk they remembered from their early life and went inside. There were several people in the store, and they all turned around to look. "I'm lookin fer Jake Grimes who rents places."

The man behind the counter spoke through his gray beard, "That'd be me. I run the store, rent out vacant houses around here, and check out strangers. I'm also the Constable and Justice of the Peace. Hell, I'd be mayor is we was big enough to qualify for one. What can I do fer ya?"

"I'm Cecil Blair. This here's my wife, Hazel. My brother-in-law, that's him out there puttin' gas in the Jeep, he called about renting the Porter place up Hinson holler?"

"Yep. What about it?"

"We'd like to check it out, and if we like it, I'd like to rent it for a couple months."

Grimes eyed him suspiciously. "Just what do y'all plan to be doin' up there? We know people like you who rent a place, set up a meth lab, and if they don't burn the place down they leave it such a mess that it's no good fer livin' in anymore. Unless you can convince me that's not yer intentions, y'all can just head back down the road to Pittston right now."

Jack was ready for the question. "No sir, that's nothing we're into. My wife here writes books about how the Gov'mint cheats it's citizens. She's fixin' to do a book on what the President's freeze on coal mining has done to the local people and towns. We want to spend some time in the coal mining towns around here, takin' pictures and talkin' to people about how much worse their lives are now."

Grimes thought a bit. "If what yer sayin is true, show me your cameras."

"Come on out to the Jeep and I'll show ya."

Before they left Jack knew they would need a cover story, so he took a couple of professional-looking cameras out of his truck and put them in the back of the Jeep. When they got outside, Jack raised the tailgate, moved a couple of things, and showed him the cameras.

"Them's some fancy cameras you got there, Cecil. Y'all go up and have a look, then you come on back down and we'll reach an agreement. Lemme git the key fer ya." Jack knew he was in when Grimes used his first name. He was now an honorary local.

"Here, let me pay you fer the gas first."

"You can settle up when you come back. I trust ya. Besides, I know where ya live." Jack got back in the truck as Grimes laughed at his own joke.

#

It took another fifteen minutes for them to get up to the double-wide mobile home. The place was well kept – someone had been mowing the lawn and cutting the weeds back to the tree line. When they got out Jack pulled them together and whispered his cover story to them. They would all have to be in character from now on because these are nosey folks and they could expect some snooping. The inside smelled musty and needed a good dusting, but it would work for them. Jack pulled out his cell phone to make sure the 4G coverage was solid and told the others to unload the truck and trailer while he went back to the store to close the deal.

"Lynn, you come with me. If they hear you talk and joke with them, they will be even more relaxed about us. Our background story is we grew up over the mountain in Madison, met in high school, and got married when we graduated because I knocked you up. And don't forget your name is Hazel and my name is Cecil."

"That's a story I can remember."

Jack and Lynn drove back down the holler to the store and went inside. The same few guys were still hanging around.

"Well, what'd ya think?"

"It'll do just fine, Jake. I'd like to rent it for three months and maybe add a month or two if we're not done with our work."

"Sorry, the shortest you can rent it fer is four months. An' it's $400 a month."

Jack knew a local would never settle for the first price offered. "That's a little more than we got, Jake. I was planning to give you three months rent, cash, up front, if you can see yer way to lettin' us have it for $350 a month."

"Cash in advance, ya say?"

"That's right, I got it right here. Other than a little left over for food and beer, that will about clean me out. Have you got any money on ya, sweetheart?"

Lynn picked right up on Jack's cue. "I spent all mine on gas getting us here, Cecil. I got nothin'. The company that's gonna print my book says they'll send me a $500 advance once I got some pictures to show 'em, but that will take me a bit. And when that comes in, we'll need it fer food an' gas money. I suppose I could do table dances at the Coal Dust Inn we saw back down the road." Lynn said with a big stage wink.

Jack answered, "Well, yer pretty enough to bring in some good money doin' that, but then I'd hafta whup all those guys fer givin' you the eye."

Everyone laughed at that.

"I gotta keep my eye on this woman. She's hard to keep satisfied, if ya know what I mean."

Lynn added another line. "Well, maybe if ya knew how to satisfy a woman, I wouldn't be lookin' around." That brought a roar of laughter at the way she put Jack down, and Jack joined in to let them know that it wasn't really an issue."

Jack turned back to Grimes. "So what about it. Can I have the place for three months at $350 a month?"

"Make it $375 and ya got a deal."

Jack shook his head and peeled the money off the roll in his pocket. "You drive a hard bargain Jake, but I wouldn't respect ya if ya didn't." They both laughed at that.

"Hey, there's an old station wagon in the garage. You can move it out in the yard if ya want to put both yer trucks in there. Heck, you can even drive it if ya want to.

"I'll need some stuff to take up to the house. Toilet paper, paper towels, some cereal, milk, bread and lunch meat. Let me round it up."

Lynn pitched in "Don't ferget the beer, darlin'. Jake, y'all got any Corona back there in the cooler?"

"Sure enough. How much ya want?"

"Let's start with three six packs. I'll come back for more when that's gone. And throw in a pouch of Red Man for Cecil."

Jack and Lynn shopped for stuff they really didn't need, but picked up what a couple from around here might buy and laid it on the counter. Jake totaled it up and said "With the gas that'll be $73.74, Missus Blair."

"Ferget the Missus Blair stuff. I'm Hazel. Cecil you heard the man. Pay 'im."

Jack peeled off another $80 and let Jake see that the roll was almost gone. They loaded the bags into the truck and headed back up the holler.

"I'm having fun slipping back into the old West Virginia ways, Jack. How about you?"

"Yeah, it's like riding a bike. You never forget how."

"Now . . . let's talk about you knocking me up. When is that going to happen?"

"You're way past that, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. But it would be fun to pretend we're back in high school getting all hot and bothered."

"That would be fun, but I'm not flexible enough to do it in the back seat of this truck."

"Maybe when we get back to the double wide we can pretend the bed is the back seat of the truck."

"I think you're trying to get me all hot and bothered, dear."

"Did I?"

"Oh yeah!"

They both enjoyed this kind of racy banter and understood it would stay at the verbal level for now.

#

Jack woke up just as the sun was coming up. He looked down at Lynn's face and felt a tenderness in his heart that he hadn't felt in years. He tried to get his arm out from under her head without waking her up, but she grabbed it and said "Oh no you don't. We have at least thirty more minutes before the others get up. Let's just lay here and enjoy it."

They lay like that for several minutes, enjoying the feel of the other's body. Then Lynn said "Last night was wonderful, Jack, even though all we did was neck."

"Yeah, when you can focus on the necking and not where you hope it's going to go, it's really pleasurable. Helen and I did a lot of necking for several years before we finally got married." Jack gave her a long kiss and said "We better get out of bed before we attack each other," as he got up and headed for the bathroom.

Lynn added "And when do you think that will be, Jack?"

Jack stopped and turned around. "I want it to be something special, Lynn. I want us to be where all we are focused on is our love for each other. With all that's going on, we can't totally clear our minds."

Lynn sighed as Jack closed the bathroom door, and got up to take O'Malley for his morning walk.
**Chapter 4** 7

They all shared a relaxed breakfast at their new hideaway. They decided to call the place Double Wide. If someone picked up on any of their communications, they would never figure out what that meant.

After an hour, Jack broke into the conversations. "I hate to say it, but it's time to get back to work. It's already the third week in November and we don't have anything solid we can use to expose Herman's conspiracy. The so-called Super Tuesday, the day when twelve states have their primaries on the same day, is the first week of March, and the conspiracy candidate will have to jump into the Republican race at least three weeks before that if he wants to gain enough momentum to win some primaries. If he can win most of them, he probably has a lock on the nomination. We have to get to the root of this before then, or we will have a steep uphill battle to expose something before the Presidential election."

Rick spoke up. "I think a key to identifying who is behind this, or at least who is funding it, will be to go into all the elections that the right-wing candidates have won in the past six years. We already have some of the information from Harriet's work about why certain candidates won and their opponents crashed and burned. I would like to work with Harriet to dig into the financials of every one of those races and try to identify where the money came from."

His wife added "That's what was going through my mind when I put the data together on elections won by extreme conservatives. I don't have the expertise to chase the money, but Rick does. With a little help from Jack on some specialized hacking software, I think we can trace the money back to a single source."

"Then those are your marching orders."

Tom asked "What else should we be pursuing, Jack?"

"Well, I've been doing some thinking about the email from Hermetrius, and I think I have an approach to meeting with him that will minimize the risk."

Lynn knew this was coming, but she had to choke back a sob anyway. She couldn't lose him now. Not after how close they had gotten.

"Here's what I have in mind. It will need some refinement along the way, but I think it will help us learn all we can about Herman.

First of all, I don't believe for a minute that the Big Man would actually take the chance of meeting me. For all he knows, I could shoot him on sight and run. So that means he will send an underling, but it will be someone who knows enough about the conspiracy to answer my questions."

Tom thought for a second. "I think you're right on with that assessment, Jack. But where can you meet him that provides you with a high probability of escaping their trap. And you know they will set a trap."

"Here's what I have come up with. I'll meet him at the City Center Mall in downtown Washington . . . on Black Friday . . . at lunch hour. The huge crowds will give me all the cover I need to get in and out. I'll drive from here in the old station wagon to the FedEx office in Vienna. There will be a stripper's Santa suit ordered ahead of time there for me to pickup. The stripper version is so I can rip it off quickly to change my appearance in the Mall. I'll put the Santa suit on in the Vienna Metro station and catch the Red Line to The City Center Mall in downtown D.C. No one will pay any attention to someone in a Santa suit on Black Friday."

Lynn broke in, "Save the Santa suit. I want a private strip show afterwards."

"Sorry dear, I'll have to leave that in the trash at the mall."

"So how will you meet up with Herman, or whoever they send?"

Jack went on to describe the details of his plan. The others suggested a couple of improvements, but in the end they all agreed that it was the best option. Then he went to his computer and composed an email to Hermetrius.

Hermetrius,

I will meet with you but only under the conditions I specify. If you deviate from them, I won't show up. I will have my people watching. Come alone. If you bring anyone with you, I won't show up. If we see anything suspicious, my crew and I will leave immediately.

  * We will meet at the City Center Mall in D.C.

  * You will wear a brown suit, a white and purple striped tie, and sneakers.

  * You will not carry a weapon of any kind. We will frisk you when you arrive.

  * You will go in the main entrance between 11:55 a.m. and 12:05 p.m.

  * Walk to the fountain at the center of the mall, then take a right turn and walk to the far end of the East shopping concourse.

  * Sit on the bench in front of the Radio Shack store and wait for me.

If I see anything suspicious, my crew and I will leave immediately. I'm looking forward to hearing about your plans to make America great again.

Jack Preston

#

A week later, with tears streaming down her face, Lynn kissed Jack goodbye and he climbed into the station wagon. He got to Vienna by 9 a.m., picked up the Santa suit, and put it on before getting on the Metro train to City Center. Other than a couple of kids smiling at him shyly, no one noticed him. He walked from the Metro station directly into the mall just after 11 o'clock and checked out the scenario at the main entrance. The bench was where he expected it to be – twenty feet inside the doors. There was also a Christmas tree right behind the bench. 'Perfect,' Jack thought. 'I can stand beside it and greet people as they come in while I'm looking for the man in the brown suit and sneakers.'

Jack went back to the south entrance, where he came in from the Metro station, and found the restroom he saw on the online store map. He went inside and looked around. Then he pulled out an OUT OF ORDER sign he printed from his computer and stuck it on the door of the last stall. As he came out, he stuck up another sign on the entrance door that said CLOSED FOR REPAIRS. Then he sat on a bench nearby and waited until 11:45.
**Chapter 4** 8

Hermetrius read Jack Preston's email one more time out loud. "What do you think, Norton? How do we want to play this?"

"The plan we have been working on will assure your safety and give us a good possibility of catching Preston this time, sir."

"Assure _my_ safety. I will not be the one meeting with Preston. You will."

Norton gulped. "Me sir? Why can't it be Alexei or one of his men?"

"Because they all have Russian accents, idiot. He would never believe a Russian was smart enough to think up this kind of plan. No, it will be you, Norton."

"Will we have a discussion or will Alexei's men grab him right away?"

"No, I want to dangle what we have in mind for the new Government in front of him and see how he reacts. Not the details, of course, but the broad framework. He may want to join us eventually. When you two finish your discussion, then we'll grab him."

Jim didn't respond right away. He was thinking through his own options for getting out of this assignment. Winston broke into his thoughts. "What's the matter. Cat got your tongue? Or maybe you can't think of a way out of this."

"No sir. I'll do it. Just give me the specific points I can reveal to him. Will I be wearing a wire so his responses can be recorded?"

"Of course. You don't think I would let you go in there and tell him whatever you want to. I'll be in the parking lot with Alexei listening to everything you both say. Any deviation from the script and I'll have Alexei's security agents grab you both. You got that?"

"Yes sir."

"Now I want to hear what you have in mind for capturing him."

"Alexei will have a dozen of his best agents in the mall thirty minutes before the meeting. They will walk through the crowd looking for Preston. He will have a facial disguise, of course, but Alexei has an answer for that; a computer program that uses photos of the subject's face to create images of what the subject looks like with the most likely disguises. My men will have a collection of these images to look at as they stroll through the mall. As the meeting time gets near, they will concentrate on the east concourse since that's where the meeting will be. If they spot him before the meeting they will keep him under surveillance until I leave."

"That sounds reasonable, but with all the shoppers crowding the place I want twenty men from Alexei there. How will your men get him out of the mall once they grab him?"

"There will be a van waiting at the East concourse exit. They will escort him out the door and into the van, and then take him to a secure place for questioning."

"What about the men Preston said he will have watching?"

"There's no way we can identify them. If they're good, they won't look like they are watching; they will blend in with the shoppers. But once we grab him we'll get him out too quickly for them to get to us through the crowds. If they make a move our security agents will handle that."

"Good. Go meet with Alexei's men and get them up to speed. I want them to memorize all those disguises so they don't keep looking down at a some papers."

#

On the drive over to Alexei's office, Jim thought more about the outcome of this for himself. 'If I screw it up, Winston will fire me. Or he may even have me killed to protect his grand plan. I know too much for him to just let me walk out the door. And even if we succeed in catching Preston, Winston will still consider it a failure because we haven't been able to find the others in his group. If Winston thinks we'll get Preston to tell us where they are, he has a surprise coming. From what I've found out about Preston, there's no way he will talk. No matter how this comes out, I might wind up dead. Or maybe he will just have me locked up until after the election. . . . No, that's not how Winston operates. I have to protect myself somehow.'
**Chapter 4** 9

Jack sat down on the bench by the main entrance. He checked his pockets for the equipment he brought along – a short range cell phone and radio jammer, a folding knife, and a tiny digital recorder. He was ready. He looked at his watch, like his lunch break was over, and took up his station beside the Christmas tree. "Ho, Ho, Ho. Meerrry Christmas." . . . 'Wait a minute. I forgot about the political correctness disease that's spread throughout the country.' . . . "Ho, Ho, Ho. Haaappy holidays to you. Ho, Ho, Ho."

A few people nodded at him, some looking for the Salvation Army Bucket he didn't have, but most of the crowd was hurrying in or out to get their shopping done on their lunch hours. At 11:55 Jack reached in his pocket and switched on the jammer and voice recorder. Three minutes later, Mr. Brown Suit showed up. Jack glanced around to see if anyone was lingering near by. If they were, they were Hermetrius' men. But the fast two-way current of moving people just swept on by. As the man approached, Jack stepped in front of him with a big "Ho, Ho, Ho" and took his arm. "Come join me on this bench, Mr. H, sit and talk with me awhile."

"Who are you?"

"I'm the man you came to meet. Now sit down before you attract attention."

"So you're Preston. The Santa Claus suit is a clever disguise, and meeting me here at the main entrance was even better."

Jack leaned in near Norton's ear. "I have a radio frequency jammer covering this area, so you can stop trying to pass along hints to your compatriots. Your people are hearing nothing but the local news station. Now according to your email, you have something to tell me."

"I . . . I, uh have some talking points that will outline what we, I, have in mind."

"You stepped out of character there, friend. The real head of something as big as this wouldn't have hesitated. So if you're not the Big Man, who are you?"

"I can't tell you that. They will kill me if I do. But I do have a written summary of the entire plan here in my pocket. It's yours if you can keep me alive."

'Whoa' Jack thought. 'This is a twist I didn't see coming. Think fast. Where do I take this. Is this for real or part of a ruse to lead us down the wrong path?'

"Suppose for a minute that I believe you. How can I verify that what's on this list is the truth?"

"We don't know how much of our plan your people have put together, but if you're anywhere close, there will be things in this summary you already know to be true. That's your verification. Now what about me?"

"I can't do anything for you right now, so you'll have to go on as if nothing happened. We had a short conversation, you told me what you were instructed to, and we parted. After we verify your information, I'll get in touch. Where can I reach you?"

"My name and secret email account are written on the back of the last page in invisible ink. Heat it to make it show up."

"Good. Now here's what we're going to do. I'm going to stick an auto injector into your thigh that will knock you out for 10 minutes. Sit like you are sleeping and I'll do it. This should take some suspicion off you."

Jim folded his hands across his lap, slouched down on the bench, and closed his eyes. He felt a pin prick and his head started to spin.

Jack got up from the bench, gave a couple of ho hos, and walked into the mall headed toward his escape exit. He let his line of sight bounce rapidly around, looking for something out of the ordinary – a movement, someone reversing direction, a lingering look, a radio microphone – but saw nothing. He ignored the sign on the restroom walked right in, like this was his dressing room. He headed for the rear stall, latched the door, and stripped off the Santa suit. He adjusted his street clothes, checked his face putty and cheek inserts, and opened the stall door.

Someone was waiting there. Before he could react a huge muscular arm slammed him back against the tile wall. This was followed by a fist to the gut and would have been followed by a knee to the groin if Jack's training reflexes hadn't shielded it with his knee. Jack was up against the wall, dazed.

The man stepped back and pulled out a silenced pistol. "I had you just as soon as you led our man next to you on the bench. I couldn't call for reinforcements because my radio wasn't working, so I followed you here. You picked the perfect place for me to trap you. I'll call the others and we'll hustle you out of here." When he reached into his coat to get his cell phone Jack lashed out with his right foot in a vicious kick at his gun hand. The hand was shattered and the gun fell to the floor. Jack kicked it across the tile floor and turned back in time to see an incoming fist a foot from his face. No time to duck or block the punch, so he lowered his head and took it on the top of his skull. He heard knuckles crack just before the pain hit.

Jack collapsed to the floor, semi-conscious, trying to fight back the curtain that divided semi from un conscious. Before he could recover a foot caught him in the ribs. He grabbed it before the attacker could pull it back and twisted as hard as he could. He heard the guy fall back against the trash bin. Still operating on the edge of consciousness, he crawled across the floor and grabbed the pistol. As the attacker came at him again, Jack raised the gun and shot him in the knee. He fell immediately and Jack was on top of him before he could scream and placed a karate chop directly into his larynx. While he held his throat gasping for air Jack stood up, retrieved another knock-out pen for his pocket, and put him to sleep.

Jack had to get out of here fast. He looked in the mirror and saw a mess - torn shirt, blood trickling from the back of his head where he hit the wall from the body slam, blood spatters on his clothes from the shot to the knee. He didn't have time to clean up. He put the Santa suit back on and headed out the door walking as if nothing had happened. He was a little bent over from the rib kick – probably a couple of cracked ones there – and went down the steps to the Metro.

As he was driving back to Pittston, still in the Santa suit, he thought with a smile 'Well, at least I kept the Santa outfit so I can model it for Lynn.'
Chapter 50

Jack was back at the Double Wide, laying on the couch nursing his taped ribs, with the others gathered around. As he read aloud the papers from Jim Norton – that's the name that appeared on the back of the page when Lynn heated it with her hair dryer – they couldn't believe what the Big Man intended to do with the U.S. Government. Jim had called it a summary, but it seemed to have most of he details about what the Big Man's vision. It was frightening! They all sat in silence with their mouths open.

Harriet was the first one to speak. "This is madness. This is conservatism run amok. No one will vote for a president who would do this."

"That's the genius of this plan. No one will know what the new president has in store when they elect him. Once he is in office, with the backing of an ultra right wing congress, nothing can stop him," her husband added.

Lynn could envisage the future with these maniacs in power. "They'll have a lock on the Supreme Court and the District Judges so they can pass any law they want to. There will be eleven million starving illegal immigrants with no money and no way to get back to where they came from, a military that will bomb any country indiscriminately, and a flat tax on every worker that will leave those below the poverty level homeless. It will be a nightmare. We have to stop it!"

Rick added, "I can't believe Hermetrius doesn't exist. He's just a made up boogeyman."

"It doesn't matter if we call him Herman, Hermetrius, or the Big Man, he's still the guy behind the plot to overthrow America." Jack added. "But we still need to find out who he is. Tom, why don't you follow up on James Norton and see where that might lead us. Oh, by the way, Jim Norton has a gravelly voice. You can listen to the voice recording I made at our meeting, but I think you'll recognize it, Tom."

#

Over breakfast they all avoided talking about the Project – that's what they had decided to call it – the Project. Everything they did from now on, from getting more information to finding a way to expose the conspiracy, would be part of the Project. After they cleared the dishes and had another cup of coffee, Jack announced in an official sounding voice, "I hereby call this meeting of the Hinson Holler Project committee to order. The first order of business is to review what we know."

One by one each of them gave a summary of what they knew and where they were in their research. Jack hooked his computer to the big screen TV in the living room and listed everything in outline form as they went. When they were finished with their summaries, Jack looked at the list on the screen. "Here's what I think we need to do at this point. We don't have a lot of time, so we need some short-term goals that will maximize our chance of putting this conspiracy out of business."

Rick spoke up first. "I think the key to everything is finding out who is behind this – the Big Man. I'm pursuing that on two fronts. I'm trying to untangle the money trails that funded the congressional victories over the past few years. If I can find out where the money came from, I should be able to find who is behind it. The second approach is the one you gave me yesterday, Jack – finding out who Jim Norton is and where he works. That shouldn't take me long, so I'll start with that."

Jack said "So there's objective number one – find Mr. Big." as he started typing a list of their goals on the screen. "The next objective is deciding if Norton's information is useful, or just a diversion. If his information matches what we already know, then we can assume it's true. I'll check that out as soon as we're done here. If it matches, we need to think about how we can get him out of Mr. Big's organization and, maybe, into our own group. If he's sincere, he could our biggest asset."

Tom took his turn next. "I think the next goal on our priority list is to find out who the golden boy is; who they are trying to put into the White House. We talked about Senator Roberts as a possibility, but we have no real evidence that it's him. If we know that, we might be able to mount a counter attack from that direction. Sort of an end run without attacking the Big Man head on."

Jack added that to the list as Harriet spoke out. "These objectives will help us understand what we're up against, but what are we going to do to stop it. We need an objective to explore approaches to crashing the conspiracy."

"You're right on with that one. We can get too focused on our research and loose sight of the ultimate objective – putting a stop to this before they take over the country. Why don't we all think about how we can do something about this and discuss our thoughts after supper. In the meantime, let's go after the first three objectives this afternoon and see how far we can get."

#

As Jack studied the information he got from Norton, he saw a lot of what they had already figured out about the conspiracy – influencing the congressional elections for the last two election cycles; positioning their selected Presidential candidate as a moderate conservative before he jumps into the race; plans to derail opposition presidential candidates with smear campaigns, including the planted embezzlement files; and the last-minute entry of their candidate into the race just before Super Tuesday. He also found some things they hadn't thought about, like plans to hijack the republican convention in case their candidate didn't win the nomination on the first vote, and the impressive team of right wing political advisors the Big Man selected to make all this happen. Jim Norton was definitely being level with him. Then Jack thought, 'if that's the case, why didn't he tell us who Mr. Big, his boss is, and who their candidate for president was going to be?'

It only took a minute of so before he hit on the answer. 'Norton is holding those things back so we will have a reason to bring him out to safety, to keep him alive when his boss figures out that he's a traitor to the cause. Not an easy problem. We need more information about Jim and who he works for before we can come up with a plan for that.'
Chapter 51

When Jim Norton woke up from the knock-out injection he was laying on the back seat of the van. They were expecting Preston to be in there with him, so the tension was running high. Winston sat up front, seething with anger that their capture plan didn't work, waiting for Norton to wake up and tell them what happened. He knew the last part. One of Alexei's men trapped Preston in a rest room, but somehow he got shot in the knee with his own gun. After that they had no idea where Preston went.

Jim was alert enough to know that he should pretend he was still out. Once he woke up and Winston lit into him, there would be hell to pay. He started running through his options. Could he bluff his way through the questioning? He started composing his story. Keep it simple, as close to the truth as I can. 'He grabbed my arm just inside the mall entrance, sat me down on the bench, and asked what I had to tell him. I mentioned the Santa suit disguise and our location to let our security guys know what to look for. Then I told him exactly what you said in the script you gave me. When I was done, he leaned over to whisper something to me and stuck some kind of injection device into my leg. The next thing I remember I came to in the back of the Van.' Jim went over and over the story in his mind so he wouldn't have to stop and think while he was telling it. Coming up through the ranks of the FBI he had learned to lie convincingly, overriding the usual facial signs a liar displays.

As he heard the van enter the parking garage of the Winston Building Jim decided it was time to wake up. He rolled over on his side and tried to sit up, purposely faltering. When he got up he blinked his eyes several times and looked around, dazed. He slurred his voice a bit as he asked "Is this the parking garage? How did I get here?" No answer. The van pulled into a parking place where two men were waiting to grab his arms and drag him over to the elevator. They took him to the top floor, sat him down in Winston's office, and left without a word. He let his head loll on his chest for a bit to look like he wasn't fully awake.

Thirty minutes later Winston stormed into the office and sat on the front of his desk. He bored his eyes into Norton's and said, "Tell me everything that happened. Leave nothing out." Jim recounted the story he had rehearsed, ending at the point he got jabbed in the leg.

"Where were Alexei's men? Didn't you have any of them watching you?"

"They were converging on the bench in front of the Radio Shack, where Preston said he would meet me. But they heard my Santa suit and front entrance clue over their radios, so they should have headed there. What happened to them? Did Preston's men knock them out too?"

"A funny thing happened to the radios when you walked in the front door. They all started playing a local news station. And the cell phones came up 'No Connection Available.' Did you have anything to do with that, James?"

Jim thought 'Oh oh. He used my first name. He's trying to buddy up to me to put me off guard. He must know about our real conversation somehow.' "No sir. I didn't know your radios weren't working. You saw me empty my pockets before I went it – keys, wallet, cell phone, change in my pocket. I had nothing to do with it."

Winston pushed an intercom button. "Get a couple of men in here to take him out for a search. Rip the seams in his clothes and pull the soles off his shoes, then search him from head to toe. I don't trust you, Norton. Have you ever had a full cavity search? Well, you're about to."

Jim had been strip-searched before, during his FBI undercover days, but never this roughly. 'Winston must be trying to degrade me so I'll give in to his power over me.' When they were done, they lead him back in front of Winston in nothing but his underwear. "If you were involved in this fiasco, Norton, I will find out! Take him downstairs and put him in a paper jumpsuit, then drop him off in front of his house. We will talk again tomorrow – and after that, again, and again, and again – until I find a crack in your story."

When they dropped him off, he said a mental 'thank you, Lord.' Fortunately they gave him his cell phone, wallet, and keys back. As he opened the front door he realized that they had probably used his keys to search the house, and maybe to plant some audio and video surveillance equipment. He would have to continue his acting role while he worked out a plan. He stripped off the jumpsuit and stepped into the shower. He was still feeling some after-effects of the knock out drug, but the hot water brought him back close to normal. After toweling off, he put on his pajamas – the Santa's Elves pair that his granddaughter gave him last year – to give his watchers something to laugh at, then fell into bed. He didn't have to play act at falling asleep; that came immediately.

#

Back at the double-wide the evening was winding down. They were sitting around the living room, drinking wine, and sharing their progress for the day. Jack put the list of objectives back up on the screen. "Rick let's start with you. Any progress on finding Mr. Big Man?"

Rick was smiling so they all knew he had something good for them. "When I dug into Jim Norton's background, I found some very interesting stuff. He retired from the FBI three years ago and was hired by Winston Financial Services as their security director, a job he still holds. If you recall, I was able to trace the embezzlement funding back through a web of subsidiaries to Winston Financial Holdings, Headquartered in Atlanta. It looks like our Mr. Big might be Charles Winston, head of the entire Winston financial empire. He is a tycoon with extreme right-wing political views, who believes America is doomed if the Government doesn't do about face and rush back to conservatism and capitalism. His net worth is over 20 billion dollars, so he certainly has the money to fund this conspiracy."

"Great work, Rick! Think of ways we could get independent verification that he's the head man."

Jack moved on to the second objective, vetting Jim Norton and his information. "After comparing what we put together with the information revealed in the document Jim gave me, I believe he's being straight with us. I don't know if he's having a crises of conscience or a crises of fear, but either way he can be a real asset to us."

Tom asked the question they were all wondering about. "How do we get him away from Winston and back here?"

"Here's what we can do. Tom and I will do a snatch and grab near his home and, as soon as he's in the car, search him for bugs. If he's clean, we put a blindfold on him and bring him back here for questioning. I'll email Norton at the secure email address he gave me and see how he responds. Let's hope Winston doesn't have him in a torture chamber already. Tom, have you made any progress on finding out who they plan to put in the White House?"

"I made a list of several possible choices, but there's really no way to zero in on who it really is. Senator Roberts is still the most likely. We should throw that out to Norton when we question him and see what his reaction is. That may give us the positive verification that it's Roberts. We can also ask him if Winston is behind everything."

"It looks like Norton has what we need to pull this all together. Let me get that email off to him."

Jack sat down and typed a short email outlining their plan, and asked Norton where would be the best place to grab him off the street. Thirty minutes later Jim got back to him.

Jack,

I go for a run every morning at six a.m. using the route on the attached map. The last mile is through a park that is usually deserted that early. That would be a good place to pick me up, but use your own judgment. Pick any location that you like. They are really putting the screws to me, so make it tomorrow morning if you can.

Jim

"That was pretty quick. He must be desperate. Tom, do you think we can get it set up that soon?"

"If we want to get to his home in Bethesda by six a.m., we need to leave in the next two hours, but that should be enough time. Rick, send him a reply that says 'Tomorrow morning during your run.' I'll get some laptops and weapons to take. Are we using the old station wagon, Jack?"

"That's the only one that we have that isn't in their system."

After another tearful goodbye from Lynn, they were on the way.

#

Jim was excited when he saw their reply. Now he needed to finish his preparations without looking busy. When he searched for bugs in his house he found cameras with microphones in the kitchen, living room, and master bedroom, but none in the guest room. He had to look for them without giving away what he was doing, so it took awhile, but he finally found them all – he hoped. His plan was to strip the sheets off the master bed and put them in the washer just before bedtime. That would give him an excuse to "sleep" in the guest room, where he could use his laptop to move money into his anonymous accounts that Winston's people didn't know about.
Chapter 52

The "kidnapping" of Norton went off with out a hitch. There were no bugs planted on him, but they could be tracking his cell phone, so Tom removed the battery and SIM chip from it. Jack drove them back toward Pittston County while Tom put a blindfold on Norton so he wouldn't know the way to their hide out and started interrogating him. The questions were simple ones designed to verify that he was who he said he was – when and where were you born, when did you start at the FBI, how long have you worked for Winston Securities, what is your position there, what was your mother's maiden name – things that could easily be verified when they got back to the Double Wide. Tom gave him a break for awhile, then started in with the same questions in a different order with other distractions added, like what was your father's occupation (policeman), what was the name of the dog you had as a child (Rusty), and what was the make and model of your first car (Ford F-150). When Tom was satisfied with Norton's answers, he left him alone as they drove on in silence.

They got back to the Double Wide in mid-afternoon, and took Norton inside before they removed his blindfold. He squinted his eyes against the sunlight coming in the window and looked around. Jack said, "Here's the rules, Norton. You will stay locked in the storage room to keep you away from computers and cell phones. We will come in to question you and bring food. There's a sleeping bag on the floor. Once we have independent verification of everything you have to tell us, we may trust you enough to let you leave."

"That's fair, Mr. Preston. Speaking of food, I haven't eaten yet today. Can you make me a sandwich or something?"

"I may not trust you yet, Norton, but please call me Jack. And this is Tom, Rick, Harriet, and Lynn. Do we call you James or Jim?"

"Jim's good. Once I get that sandwich, I'll be ready for your questions. I slept most of the way in the car."

Lynn added, "We have baloney and cheese or cheese and baloney. You want a beer with that sandwich?"

After they had eaten Jack started in with the questions. "I'll lead off with the big question, Jim. Who is behind this conspiracy to take over the country?"

"That would be my boss, Charles Winston. Seven years ago he decided to set a plan in motion to make himself president in this upcoming election. He wanted to personally lead America back to the conservative principles he believed would save the country. He put together a select team of advisors to put together a plan to get there."

"The team – those were the names on the summary you gave me?"

"That's the current group. He replaced two of the original choices because they thought he was going too far. And that was before he went off the deep end. Until two years ago they focused on getting as many ultra-conservatives into congress as possible. Then he gave his team some ideas for making the changes as quickly as possible after the election. Two of them thought the measures were too harsh and even violated the Constitution, so Winston fired them and added replacements he could trust. As his plans got even more radical, some of the others grumbled a bit, but Winston has blackmail material on all of us, so no one else quit."

"So Winston is going to be their presidential candidate?"

"Not any more, Jack. The team convinced him he didn't have the personality to get elected. In public he says anything that comes to his mind, no matter how unbelievable it is. They told him that he would have more power if he stayed in the wings and found a puppet to be the president."

"So who did they pick to replace him?"

"They needed someone who had a respectable political career, charisma, and was a great speaker. But he also had to be someone they could completely control, someone who would go to prison if Winston released certain information about them. Senator Roberts of Idaho fit the requirements perfectly."

"He was at the top of our list of probables. What do they have on him to make him toe the line?"

"He murdered his first wife. He staged a break-in at their home and clubbed her with a lamp. Then he took jewelry, a laptop, and booze from a smashed liquor cabinet, put them in a pillow case, and sneaked out the back door. Unfortunately, the neighbor next door was a peeping tom who had been watching Mrs. Roberts undress in her room for months. She suspected he was watching and left the curtains open to tantalize him. With a good looking woman like her, the guy was soon photographing her. He saw the murder and snapped several incriminating photos. Instead of going to the police, he started blackmailing Roberts to the tune of ten thousand dollars a month."

"How did Winston find out about this?"

"When his team was analyzing potential candidates, they got into his bank account records and saw the monthly payments. With a little more digging, they found out who they were going to and sent some professionals to question him."

"Professionals?"

"Let me be blunt. Winston hired a couple of thugs who were known for interrogation by beating. In this case they beat the guy to death, but not before they got the peeping tom's photo collection. And, as a bonus, the peeping tom had followed Roberts to where he buried the stolen items. Later the " tom" went back and dug them up, and let the Senator know he had all the goods on him. Winston has all that now."

"So if Roberts doesn't do exactly what Winston tells him to, he has life in prison to look forward to."

"That's it, Jack."

"O.K., I want to change direction a bit. We have a list of dozens of right-wing senators and representatives who were elected over the past two election cycles. Harriet and Rick have been trying to find out which of them got elected through election fraud – buying off other candidates, smear campaigns, blackmail. In other words, which of these on our list did Winston's people fix the elections for. Would you look over the list and jot down what you know about how they got elected? We'll take a break in the questioning so you can make the list."

#

When Jim was finished with his notes he called Jack. Instead of Jack, Rick and Harriet showed up to question him. "We put this list to together, Jim, so we're primed to understand what you know. Of those on this list, how many of the elections were fixed by Winston?"

"Every one of them. You don't understand how powerful Winston has become. He's got enough money to buy every seat in congress that can be bought, and those he can't buy he has enough blackmail information on them to keep them in line. He would rather have representatives and senators who truly believe in his cause, but if he can't get their loyalty, he controls them with fear."

Harriet left to confer with Jack, then came back. "Guess what, Jim? You get to eat at the big table with the adults tonight. We want everyone to hear what you have to say, and we need your help in finding a way to head this off before Winston owns the country."

"You want the short answer? I don't think you can stop it. I'm not sure anyone can."

They went downstairs and joined the others around the table. Jim shared everything with the whole group and fielded questions. When he got to his last comment about no way to stop it, everyone went silent. Tom spoke up first. "You mean that now, when we have all the pieces put together, there's nothing we can do about it?"

Jack answered. "We still have the same old problem – lots of unsubstantiated information, but no real evidence. To make this public and make it stick we need documents, recordings, emails, and speeches; and all we have is six forged contract documents about embezzled funds and bank deposits in the names of five presidential candidates. And if we release the bank account information we'll be arrested. If we could claim freedom of the press, we might get away with it, but otherwise, we're stuck."

After another quiet spell, Lynn had an idea. "The word "press" got my mind working. What if we give the information about the contract files and the bank account numbers, without connecting them to individuals, to a well-known investigative reporter and let him dig up the evidence for us?"

That got everyone's attention, but Jack put a damper on it. "If we tell a reporter about a right wing conspiracy trying to take over the country, he or she will think we're crazy and walk away."

"Then we don't tell about the conspiracy. Let the reporter uncover it. We can drop a few anonymous tips about Winston and his advisors, just enough to keep the reporter moving forward. If he's any good he will uncover most of it – enough to get the story printed and talked about on network news."

"I think that could work, Lynn. But who do we pick to give the story to?"

Jim spoke up with an answer to that one. "I think I know who that should be. There's a reporter who's been nosing around Winston Securities. He has some inside information about big campaign contributions that he traced back to Winston's firms and wants to see how deep it goes. He wants to take this all the way to the top and uncover Winston's personal involvement. Winston had me keeping an eye on him to make sure our people – sorry, his people –didn't talk to the reporter."

Lynn almost yelled at him, "Well, don't keep us in suspense. Who is he?"

"Jeb Collins of the American Reporter Daily in D.C. That newspaper leans to the left a bit, so they would love to run a story about a possible conservative conspiracy."

"Perfect." Jack exclaimed. "What is the best way to get the embezzlement information to him, Jim?"

"I can help you out there I think. I could write an anonymous letter on Winston Securities stationary telling him I'm an insider who's worried about what I see going on. I'll add a few facts that Collins has already uncovered to make it seem credible. That should put him in the attack mode."

"Let's get to it then. Harriet, why don't you put some photocopies of the material from the embezzlement stuff – the file I retrieved from Silicon Systems and the MTX Military Systems file we found in Foreman's CYA files. We can add a list of all six embezzlement file numbers and the offshore account numbers. We'll put those in a mailing envelope and I'll drive down to Pittston tomorrow to the FedEx office to mail it overnight."

Harriet had a question. "Do we want to give Collins a way to contact us, in case he wants to talk?"

"No, we don't want him digging into who we are. We'll just have to hope this information will be enough and wait to see what happens. If we don't see anything in print after two weeks we'll have to send him a few more hints."

"Wait a minute, Jack. If you FedEx it from Pittston and Winston's people get their hands on it, they will be swarming all over this county."

"Good catch, Lynn. I should have thought of that. It has to be a large city to throw them off the track. Cincinnati is a four-hour drive, but I don't want to head east. So I'll go there."
Chapter 53

Jeb Collins sat staring at his computer. He had four unfinished stories at various stages of development, but he couldn't get motivated to finish them. They were boring pieces about Washington's political elite that his editor had assigned him to write. Stuff like that paid his salary, but he was a Pulitzer Prize wining investigative reporter, dammit, and these bread and butter stories made no use of his talents. If he could find something big to sink his teeth into, his editor would give this crap to junior reporters and let him make some big headlines for the paper. But big stories don't come along often enough.

He thought he was onto something big in his preliminary investigation of funding sources for the campaigns of several conservative members of Congress. He traced the money to several financial firms that didn't seem to be connected, but he believed they could be linked back to Winston Securities and probably to Charles Winston himself. Winston was an outspoken opponent of what he sees as 'the extreme liberalism that's destroying this country,' and has enough money to buy whatever he wants. He is an iconoclast of the first order, bullying anyone who gets in his way. There was talk a few years back that he was going to make a run for the presidency, but that idea has all but disappeared.

He tried every angle and information source he could think of to connect the dozen or so financial firms to each other or to Winston, but he just couldn't get the breakthrough he needed. He thought 'I haven't given up yet, though. I'll keep prodding and poking until I find a crack somewhere, and then I'll have the story of the decade.' He opened up one of the unfinished fluff stories and started writing. Maybe he could get this one out by the end of the day.

He was just putting the finishing touches on the story when Jenny from the mail room came by with her cart. She was attractive and unmarried, so Jeb didn't pass up a chance to talk to her. "Afternoon, Jennifer. Anything for me today?"

She smiled as she handed a few letters and a FedEx document pack.

He asked her, "I'm about finished for the day, do you want to join me for a drink?"

"You never give up, do you Jeb. You have asked me out a dozen times and have I ever said yes?"

"A guy can always hope, Jenny. In the words of a British poet, 'Hope springs eternal in the human breast.'"

"Well, not in my breast. . . . Oh, did I just say that? I didn't mean that kind of breast." as she blushed.

Jeb pulled his eyes off her breasts and responded "Blushing makes you even more attractive, Jenny." And that made her blush an ever deeper shade of red.

"Here's my quote for today, Jeb: 'Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor impudent men shall stay this courier from the her appointed rounds.' See ya."

Her enjoyed the rear view as she walked down the hall, then turned to his mail. The letters were from people who (a) really liked his latest story, or (b) were offended by his latest story. He scanned them just in case it was the Publisher's Clearing House informing him that he is now one of 3% of entrants who made the final cut. 'Let's see. If I assume a modest number of original entrants, say one million, then 3% puts me in the company of . . . 30,000 other people with a chance winning $100,000 a year for life.' But today's mail was just reader comments about his story on how conservatives in Congress had introduced a bill to cut funding for after-school programs because 'They are just baby sitting programs paid for by the Government so parents can stay at work until six p.m. If they are working, then they should pay for their own babysitters." The letters ran 70/30 condemning conservatives for trying to rob the poor working class.

He saved the best for last. As he opened the FedEx pack he thought 'maybe this one is from PCH.' When he saw what was in it, his first thought was 'maybe this is even better!' The cover letter was from a Winston Securities whistle blower claiming that large sums of money were paid to several Government officials to get big contracts for six defense contractors, and that the money came from financial firms associated with Winston Securities. If this was true, it could be the opening he needed to finally connect Charles Winston with illegal activities! The package included copies of two contract documents listing the amounts paid by Silicon Systems and MTX Military to prominent politicians. The whistle blower included the contract numbers of three additional payments by defense contractors, and claimed there was another contractor payoff that he couldn't find documentation for. The best part came at the end of the letter; offshore bank account numbers where five of the payments were deposited and the amounts of the kickback payoffs.

If Jeb just had the politicians' names who were tied to these accounts, he could bust this thing wide open. The names must be tied to the numbered offshore accounts, and the letter gave him the account numbers. He had a hacker friend who could get into the bank computers and check the balance in each account. If they matched the kickback amounts for the five contracts, that would confirm that what the whistle blower gave him was true. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the secure number for the hacker. When the phone robot answered, he left his name and the number of one of his burner phones.

He got the return call ten minutes later and talked to someone who was using a voice disguiser. He explained what he wanted – the balance of five offshore numbered accounts, and the names associated with those accounts. He told him that he needed the information as soon as possible.

"I can have the account balances by tomorrow but the names will take me a week."

"How much with it cost me?"

"$500 apiece for the account balances and $1,000 each for the names. Deposited into my PayPal account when I let you know I have the information ready to send."

"I can handle that. Use my secure email address to contact me. Goodbye."

Jeb was well paid, thanks to his Pulitzer, and kept a large balance in a personal account for just this sort of thing. If he went to his editor now for the $2,500 without something more solid he would get turned down. But if he broke it into a two-part story – the first with the contractor names, amounts paid out, and identical amounts in offshore accounts, ending with a teaser about next week's story with the politicians names included, he was sure his editor would pay the $5,000 to get the names.

'It's a good thing I didn't get that date with Jenny because I'll be working late tonight putting a draft of this story together. Then, when I get the offshore account balances tomorrow, I can just insert a couple more paragraphs and run it up to the editor.' He opened a new document on his Mac computer and thought about a headline, then typed 'Government Officials Caught in a Kickback Scandal.'
Chapter 54

Two days later Harriet opened the web site for the online edition of the American Reporter Daily and saw the headline. "Guys! Get in here quick! We made the front page!"

When they had gathered around, Harriet read the story out loud. Jim Norton said "It looks like Collins came through for us. He may be a liberal, but he writes a good story."

Lynn pointed out the last paragraph. "He says he will give the names in Part Two, to be printed in next week's paper. It looks like we hit the jackpot."

Jack agreed. "When he reveals the names next week, this is going to hit the fan. We'll see denials, backpedalling, and all sorts of political gymnastics. So what should we do next, Jim?"

"It may take Collins too long to stumble into the election conspiracy, so I think I should write another letter outlining the election fraud over the past several years. If he does his homework, he will make the same connection to the source of the funds that Rick did, and expose Winston and his conspiracy. What do you all think?"

They all agreed with Jim about the next step. Tom had a thought. "We need to understand the consequences of what we're doing here. If Collins digs up enough to prove that it's all part of a conspiracy to take over the country in the upcoming election, that could disrupt the primary election process, maybe even delay it."

"And that will guarantee a heavily liberal Government for the next several years." Jack added. "This gets back to my earlier observation that maybe we should just let the conservatives run the country for a term or two to get us back on the road to recovery from the 'liberalitis' disease that has swept the country. But with the extremes that Winston has in mind, it would be disastrous if we didn't stop it."

Rick spoke up. "But if it did happen, we could make millions short-selling stocks and mutual funds. Just a thought."

"So what do we do now. Hurry up and wait for Collins to publish Part Two?"

"That, and watch the other media to see if they pick up the story. Let's check one of the 24- hour news channels and see how long it takes them to cover it."

#

Three days later Harriet opened up the online American Reporter site and couldn't believe her eyes. The headline was 'Kickback Scandal Revealed as Hoax.' This time she read the entire story before calling in the others. "Well, you can all see today's headline on my screen. I read the details, and it claims that Jeb Collins made up the story about the kickbacks to revive his failing reputation as an investigative reporter. The companies named as paying out the kickbacks have opened up the contract files to Government auditors, and there was no record of the payments. They reported that even the off-shore account numbers were phony. They never existed. The paper apologized to the public and fired Collins."

No one spoke for several seconds as they saw their only hope for stopping the conspiracy disappear. Jack broke the silence. "Winston's money and influences reaches out a lot farther than we thought. He apparently had the connections to discredit the American Reporter story and not only close the offshore accounts, but make it seem like they never existed."

Lynn said "Maybe that information is a lie. Jack, why don't you hack into the Caribbean banks again just to be sure the accounts are closed."

"That's a bad idea, Lynn. I almost got caught before, and this time they will be lying in wait for me to try again."

Tom said what everyone was thinking. "This makes everything we have useless. No matter how we try to get the information out now, it's been discredited as a hoax. Does someone have any other ideas that we can try?"

Jack sighed. "Let's sleep on it and get together after breakfast."

#

Jack hooked his computer up to the big screen TV again and turned to address the group. "What we're going to do this morning is brainstorm possible approaches to stopping Winston's plans. The rules of brainstorming are simple. You think up stuff, and I write it on the list. No idea is too crazy. Everything goes on the list. No one talks about why this or that won't work. We'll go back over the list later and discuss the strong and weak point of each idea. Then we'll prioritize the list based on a set of criteria to be determined. O.K. Who wants to start it off?"

Rick had the first idea. "I think we should dig deeper into the elections Winston has been fixing. If we can connect him to the payoffs and blackmail it took to get the ultra-conservatives elected, maybe the Government will go after him for fraud or something."

Harriet replied "No, Rick, that could takes us months and we don't have that kind of time."

Jack stepped in. "You just broke brainstorming rule number one, Harriet. No nay saying. Not until we're done with the list. Who's next?"

Jim spoke up. "I think we should attack Winston from within. I know where most of the plans for his various initiatives are kept in the company computer. If my passwords haven't been shut down, maybe I can get at that information. Jack would have to hack me into their mainframe computer, but once he gets me in I can download the files we need in an hour or two."

"Alright, who is going to give us idea number three?"

Lynn offered the next one. "Maybe we could use Winston's techniques against him. Make up some slanderous stories about Senator Roberts and release them just before Super Tuesday. The press wouldn't have time to discredit them, and it might cause him to lose some of the key primaries." Jack wrote that on the list.

Tom had been quiet so far. "In the true spirit of brainstorming, I have to add this one. Maybe we should kill Roberts."

That brought a shocked silence. Lynn broke it by pointing out the idea was way out of bounds for this discussion. Jack added it to the list anyway.

Jack spoke to the silence. "Is there any way we can stop this by attacking Winston? Either his financial empire or his political connections?"

"It will take some time but you could try to hack into his computer system to plant viruses and worms that will selectively destroy the records and file we chose."

"Good, that's number six. What's next?"

Tom offered one more idea. "Would killing Winston stop this runaway train? Remember, this guy had a bomb planted under my car. I would have no problem killing him."

Jim said "We can go ahead and reject this one, even though that's against brainstorming rules. Winston has this whole thing set up so that, if anything happens to him, everything will continue as planned. As much as I would like to consider this possibility, it shouldn't make the list."

They kicked around a few other suggestions, but ended up with the list of six approaches to stopping this disaster. Then they started comparing the pros and cons of each idea. They concluded the first one, having Rick continuing to hunt for proof that Winston was fixing election, should be pursued, but not with the expectation that it would give them enough to stop the conspiracy before Super Tuesday.

They reached the same conclusion for Jim's idea of hacking Winston Securities' mainframe computer. They could learn a lot about Winston's plans, but it probably wouldn't give them a way to stop the conspiracy before the Republican primaries.

Lynn's idea of creating false information showing that Senator Roberts was involved in some scandalous or illegal behavior had promise, but they would need more than a story leaked to National Enquirer to knock Roberts out of the race. And they had no fabricated photos or documents to support the leak.

Infecting Winston's mainframe with viruses and other malicious software would be fun, but Jim assured them that Winston Securities kept two generations of total system backups stored off site, and even he didn't have access to those computers.

That left them with Tom's idea. Everyone turned toward him and waited for him to explain why he proposed it. "Well, it's the only solution that guarantees Winston's man won't get into the White House. Jim already told us that they have a contingency plan to hijack the Republican convention if Roberts doesn't win enough primaries. So even if we discredited him with fictional accounts of impropriety, they could still get the nomination by paying off or blackmailing selected delegates. The only way to be assured that Roberts can't be President is to take him out."

No one was nodding their head in agreement, even though his logic was inescapable.

Jack closed the discussion by putting Tom's idea at the bottom of the priority list as a last ditch solution.

They broke for lunch, then Jack got them together again. "New topic. What do we do next, as a group or as individuals. Now that everything we know is labeled a hoax, with all the evidence erased, Winston has no reason to want us dead. Although I think we should all lay low, at least until after the November election, we can return to whatever life we want for ourselves after that."

Lynn gave an angry retort. "So we should just quit what we're doing? Give up and slink away?"

"No, not at all. That's not what I meant. Even if Winston gets his man into the White House, we will still keep looking for opportunities to uncover the conspiracy that put him there. I can set up a private network that includes only us. We would interact as often as we need to over the network and encrypted phones, then get back together concentrate on a specific issue."

"The next part of future planning is what do we do to earn a living. I'm retired and semi-wealthy so I won't need to work. Harriet and Tom can't go back to work for the FRA, so you will have to find employment of some kind. Tom, you can finally get back to your family, but do you have any idea what you can do for a living?"

"I suppose I could work for a private security agency, if I had any connections."

"I may be able to help you with that. An old friend of mine who is ex-FBI, Dave Cramer, has his own private security business and he's been after me to come and work for him. I'm sure if I put in a good word for you, he would hire you."

Rick said "Harriet and I have been thinking about this and I think I'll keep running my real estate firm, but from some remote location. I've been training an assistant, and I think he's ready to handle the day-to-day management."

Lynn asked, "So are you going to go back to your home and work from there?"

"No, I think we'll rent a place for awhile and then settle down. We may buy the gentleman farmer's house we used for hideout and move in next year. Jim, what about you?"

"Winston will do everything he can to get even with me, so I'll have to stay under cover for the foreseeable future. I have enough money put aside so I can live comfortably wherever I go. Maybe a condo in the Caribbean. I don't have a family to worry about. Winston kept me too busy to even think about that. But, who knows, I might find someone in the condo next door."

"What about you and Lynn?" Harriet asked.

Jack answered, "We really haven't given it much thought, other than we will stay together. In case you all haven't noticed, we are deeply in love. But I have worries that Winston might send someone after us eventually, especially if we disrupt his plan. He hates to lose. "

"The next thing you're wondering about is when will we go our separate ways. I think we should stay together here until after Super Tuesday, and see what the outcome is. We will keep trying out some of the ideas on our list, just to see if we get lucky. And maybe Jeb Collins will keep digging even though he's been fired. There's big money in the story if he can get some solid evidence."

Tom had an idea. "Do you think we should contact Collins and ask him to join our group? We only sent him part of what we have, and the rest of it would give him more to work with."

"Another great idea. Tom, will you call him in the morning and see if he's receptive to it?"

"Sure, but before I call I'll see what I can find out about him. He's still a liberal and we wouldn't want him secretly doing a story on us."

Jack wrapped things up. "Let's call it a day. Take the rest of the day off – with pay – and we start on the list in the morning." That brought some chuckles as they broke up.
Chapter 55

Lynn waited until she and Jack were laying side by side in bed before she brought up what had been on her mind since Jack told the group that it was time to break up. She rolled over and snuggled up to his side and asked, "When you told the group that we 'haven't given much thought' to what we'll do next, did you mean that? I've given it a lot of thought, and I know what we'll do next."

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"We will find the nearest church, get married, find a motel room, and break our vow of chastity big time. Until then, anticipation makes the heart grow fonder. Isn't that a quote by some famous poet?"

They both lay there anticipating for awhile. Then Lynn asked another question. "On the more practical side, where do you think we should settle down?"

"Well, as much as I would like to go back to my cabin in West Virginia, that would be too risky, especially if Winston wants to get even. But I think your place in Telluride would be safe enough."

"Really, Jack! Oh, I would be so happy if we could live there. That place feels like part of me and, with the two of us living there as man and wife, it would be even more of a home."

"That reminds me of some unfinished business. Wait here, I'll be right back."

After a few minutes, Jack came back into the bedroom, and got down on one knee, and asked, "Lynn Martin, will you be my wife?" as he held out a beautiful braided gold wire ring.

"I thought you would never ask! But I need some time to think about it. . . . O.K. I've made up my mind. Of course I will marry you, you big sentimentalist. I would have settled for 'Hey babe, let's get hitched.'"

Jack slipped the braided gold ring on her finger. "Where did you get the ring?"

"I took the gold wire from some high-speed computer cables that I sacrificed for the cause and braided it myself."

"It's lovely, Jack. Truly lovely."

She slipped her arms around his neck and gave him the most passionate kiss they had shared so far.

#

At breakfast Jack brought up a new idea. "I have been thinking about Lynn's suggestion of creating a fake scandal to ruin Senator Robert's reputation. But maybe we can uncover a real scandal. He's remarried since his first wife's murder to a socialite, who was probably hand-picked to fill the President's wifely duties. But if he was cheating on his first wife, there's a pretty good chance he's cheating on his new wife. What if we could uncover an actual affair, and get solid evidence – hotel bills, photographs, apartment rental records, clothing and jewelry purchases – anything that the media will accept as proof."

Harriet asked the obvious question, "And how are you going to get this information?"

"Tom, you, and I are trained agents. We know how to go undercover, using a variety of disguises that can change daily if necessary, and maintain 24-hour surveillance on anyone we choose. I propose that we keep Senator Roberts under surveillance to find out who he is having affairs with, where he is meeting her, and if possible, plant some cameras to get video of the lurid details that will guarantee maximum public exposure."

The next question is how we are going to catch the Senator in flagrante delicto – in the act. The first thing we need to do is get a GPS bug planted in his car so we can track his movements. Once we find out where he's going to meet his woman, or women, then we can look into bugging the place."

#

Later in the morning Harriet was checking the American Reporter News site. She clicked on the front-page headline . . . and screamed. Everybody came running. "Oh my God, they've killed him!"

"Who Harriet?

"The reporter, Jeb Collins!" She read the highlights of the story. _"Former reporter for this newspaper, Jeb Collins, was found hanged in his garage this morning. He was fired from the American Reporter Daily staff after creating a fictitious story about alleged kickbacks from defense contractors to high ranking Government officials. He left a suicide note that said, in part, '_ _I just couldn't take the shame of being caught in the hoax. I knew I could never work in the news industry again, and that's all I cared about. Forgive me.'"_

Jack was livid. "Winston will do anything to keep his conspiracy on track. Someday, I will make sure he pays for this, even if I have to kill him myself!"

"What does this do to our plans, Jack?" Lynn asked.

"We have to move ahead as planned and find a way to stop this madness!"

#

Two weeks later they had what they needed. Roberts had a mistress living in an expensive condo in Georgetown. Elaina Bennett was a 29-year-old statuesque blond who a year ago had been a high-priced call girl. Roberts apparently made her an offer she couldn't refuse to be his exclusive mistress. He visited her three times while they were tracking him, and spent the night twice. All they needed now was access to the condo, which wasn't going to be easy. They watched the building entrance, which had a full time doorman/security guard, and saw several people turned away, so fast-talking their way past him didn't seem to be an option. Harriet got copies of the building plans from the county records department and found no other way to get into the second floor apartment. The only way up was the elevator from the lobby, and the doorman had that covered. They were all gathered in the kitchen of the Double Wide discussing their options.

"We need some ideas here, guys." Jack implored. "I have no intention of going down an air shaft from the roof to get into her condo like they do in the movies. Give me something here."

Tom tossed out a thought, "Can we get one of us hired on as building staff? A janitor, a maintenance man, or a maid maybe? We need to find out who does their hiring, and who has those jobs now. Then we can come up with a way to have one of them call in sick for a day or two, so one of us can jump in as a temporary replacement."

Jack looked excited. "You're onto something there, Tom. Harriet, why don't you and Rick find out who the staffing company is. When you have that, I'll hack into their personnel records and see who they have assigned to the Georgetown condo. We'll make one of them an offer to call in sick for a wad of cash and recommend one of us as a replacement.

"I should have something by lunchtime, Jack."

#

By mid afternoon Jack was inside the computer of Staff Assistance, Inc. going over the records of the Georgetown condo staff. He was hoping that he go in as a temporary maintenance man, but that work was handled by an on-call service that showed up only when there was a problem. Other than the doorman, the only permanent staff at the condo was the maid service. All the apartments were cleaned daily by one of four maids. Harriet and Lynn were the only ones who could step into those jobs, and Harriet was still recovering from her leg injury. He didn't want to send Lynn because she wasn't trained for this kind of spy work, but he didn't really have a choice. He called her over to the computer.

"Lynn, we may need you to be our undercover maid who goes in and plants the hidden cameras. How do you feel about that?"

She said with a grin, "Where do I sign up, Jack."

"I'll have to show you where to place the wireless cameras so they have a good field of view. I have a couple that look like ceiling-mounted smoke alarms. You just switch them on and stick them on the ceiling, then go about your cleaning chores. There are four maids who share the cleaning duties for sixteen apartments, so if we pay off the maid to the second floor, you will have four apartments to clean, including the one Roberts' mistress lives in. She works for a local TV station during the day, so you will have the place all to yourself."

"How can you arrange for me to fill the maid vacancy that day?"

"Staff Assistance keeps a list of temporary maids they can call to fill in for those missing work. I'll go into that file and put your name at the top of the list."

"So how will we get one of the maids to take us up on the offer?"

"Good question. Let me do a background check on the maid staff and see if there's something we can use to encourage them."

A few minutes later he had just what he was looking for. "One of the maids, Juanita Perez, is in the country illegally. No green card and no student visa. Get the others in here and let's figure out the best way to approach her."

When they were all in the room Jack filled them in on what he found. "So how do we approach her?"

Tom spoke up first. "All we need to do is tell her we're from ICE – Immigration and Customs Enforcement – and she will do anything we ask. Or else she will disappear and never go back to work there. I don't want her to be out of work, so let's tell her that the FRE is conducting an investigation of one of the tenants, and we need to put one of our women agents on the maid staff for a day. Since she'll be afraid of being found out, we won't have to pay her anything. Offering cash would make the deal seem fishy."

"That will work. Did I just hear you volunteer to approach her, Tom?"

"Sure, I'll do it. I'll wait at the metro station across from the condo and talk to her as she gets off work. Let's plan my approach for tomorrow evening, and Lynn can go in the next morning. That will give you time to get Lynn ready for her role."

"Will I need a maids uniform?"

"Yes, but we took pictures of what the maids wear and I found a uniform shop just outside of Georgetown that has what we need. It's nothing fancy, just a grey work dress."

#

Jack and Lynn drove to Vienna, parked the station wagon, and boarded the Metro. Jack could tell she was anxious, so he reached out and held her hand. On the way to the Georgetown station Lynn mentally rehearsed every thing Jack had told her, but the closer she got, the more anxious she became. As they left the train Jack pulled her off to the side to reassure her. "You won't have any trouble with this, Lynn. We rehearsed it until you could do it in your sleep. Just relax and be natural. I'll spend the day working on my computer at internet café on the next block. When you get off work, call me from the Metro station and I'll meet you there. If you need me for any reason, call me. I'll get past the doorman and up to room 202 one way or another."

They waited until they saw two of the condo maids in their uniforms get off another train, and Lynn fell in behind them. As they left the station one of them looked at her. "Who are you? You don't work at the apartments with us."

"I ... I am a replacement for Juanita . . . Juanita Perez. She is sick today." Lynn answered with uncertainty like she thought a new girl in the group would.

"Is Juanita really sick, or did that husband of hers beat her up again?"

"I . . . I don't know. I got a call this morning that I was needed to replace a sick person today. They told me to report to the doorman."

"Well, if her husband beat her up bad, you may be here for a few days. What about you? You got a husband that beats you?"

"No, my husband is dead. I have to take odd jobs to help pay my rent."

"Well, I hope he treated you right before he conked out on you."

"He was O.K. I guess."

The three of them entered the building lobby together. The doorman waved the two regulars through, but stopped Lynn. Who are you. The temp they called about this morning?"

"Y . . . Yes sir."

"You girls know her?"

"We do now, Henry. Come on, we're need to get to work."

"Here is your key card. Make sure I get that back when you leave."

On the way up in the elevator they explained the layout of each floor – where to find the linen cart and cleaning supplies, and let her out on the second floor.

She went strait to the storage room, loaded up the cart, and headed for Apartment 202.

She knocked first, just like Jack had rehearsed with her, then opened the door and said loudly "Maid service. Is anyone here?" She held her breath for what seemed like minutes before she let out a sigh of relief. Jack said to get the cameras up first thing, in case she was interrupted, so she pulled a dining room chair into the bedroom at the foot of the bed. Jack said that would give the best view of the action. She took one of the fake smoke detectors out of her purse, peeled off the protective strip from the sticky tape on the back, and stood on the chair. But when she reached up she realized that the high ceiling was out of her reach by a foot. That's when she panicked the first time. 'I can't let Jack down on this, but how am I going to reach high enough? Maybe I can get some pillows from the bed and put them on the chair.'

She noticed the bed hadn't been slept in. Elaina must have met him somewhere else, or she had another sugar daddy on the side. Lynn carefully removed the pillows and put them on the chair, but they were too soft. It wasn't enough. Now she started sweating. She tried stacking another dining room chair on the first one, but that was too unstable. The dresser was too heavy to move. She ran from room to room, looking for something to help her, but there was nothing. She started to head for the bathroom but thought 'Yeah right. I'll drag the toilet in here.' and she turned away. Then she turned back and went into the bathroom. It was just as she expected; nothing helpful. As a last resort, she opened the cabinet under the sink, and there was the answer. A plunger. She grabbed it and got back up on the chair. She nestled the smoke alarm into the plunger cup and stretched toward the ceiling. 'There! I did it.'

She mentally patted herself on the back as she took the chair back into the living room and stuck another camera unit over the fireplace looking back at the large couch. 'That should cover it, unless they decide to get frisky on the dining room table or the kitchen floor. Wouldn't that make some great news footage!' She returned the chair to its place at the table at the table and went back to the bedroom to replace the pillows. She was just folding the bedspread back in place when she heard the front door open. She froze for a second. 'What should I do. Where can I hide? What did Jack tell me?'

She had parked the linen cart beside the bathroom door as Jack told her to. She grabbed bathroom cleaning materials and got busy, pretending she hadn't heard the door open.

"Juanita, is that you?" A woman's voice. It must be Elaina. Sweat was pouring from Lynn's forehead and arm pits. The woman poked her head into the bathroom and exclaimed "You're not Juanita! What are you doing here?"

"The . . . the agency sent me. Juanita is sick."

"It better not be that damned husband of hers again! I told her I could arrange to make him disappear but she said she loves him, even though he's mean to her. These women think it's their lot in life to let their husbands and boyfriends do whatever they want."

"Yes, ma'am."

Elaina went back toward the living room and Lynn started looking busy again. That's when she panicked the second time. She left the plunger in the living room!

"What the hell is this! There's a toilet plunger on my coffee table. You, whatever your name is. Get in here this minute!"

Lynn gathered her wits and went into the living room with her head bowed in mock shame. "Explain to me why you brought this filthy thing into my living room."

Lynn's mind was running at super speed as she tried to think up an excuse.

"Cat got your tongue. Tell me what you were doing."

"The . . . the kitchen sink was stopped up so I brought the plunger in to unstop it."

"You put that filthy thing in the sink. Where I rinse dishes and drink water from? We have maintenance men to call for that. I want you out of here right now! Get your cart and clear out. And take this filthy thing with you. Maybe you can use it on your own kitchen sink."

"Yes ma'am. I was almost finished anyway. I have other apartments to clean."

"Oh no you don't. I want you out of the building in five minutes. I'll call Henry and tell him to expect you. And I'll call the agency and tell them to fire you and send someone else. Now get out!"

Lynn rushed down the hall and put the cart and cleaning supplies back, then headed for the elevator. When she got to the lobby the doorman was standing there glaring at her. "Whatever you did up there really pissed Miss Bennett off! Give me your key card and leave immediately." Lynn started crying at that point. To Henry they were tears of shame, but to Lynn they were tears of joy. She had completed her mission and gotten away. As she ran across the street to the Metro station, she thought 'Thank you Lord for getting me out of there.'

As soon as she was inside the Metro station she called Jack on her cell phone. Ten minutes later they were holding hands on the train back to Vienna. Lynn was bursting to tell Jack what happened but he told her to wait until they were alone in the car headed for Pittston County.

As soon as Jack pulled out of he Vienna Metro parking lot the dam burst and she began talking high speed non-stop about her adventure in the apartment. Jack couldn't follow all of it so he waited until her nervous energy had burned out and asked her to start at the beginning.

After she finished Jack said, "You were amazing up there, Lynn! That plunger idea was brilliant. I could kick myself for not thinking about the high ceilings. And your quick response to her angry questions were perfect. To top it off, you got thrown out of the building in less than an hour. You couldn't have done better if we had planned it that way."

Lynn looked up at his face, smiling, and asked "So when do I get my official 'Secret Agent Woman' badge?"

"Raise your right hand and repeat after me. Pretend this road map is a Bible. 'I, Lynn Martin, do solemnly swear that I will uphold all the bylaws of the Secret Agent Society to the best of my ability." Lynn repeated it with a grin and asked "Just what are those bylaws by the way."

"I'll tell you when we're snuggled up in bed tonight," Jack said mischievously.
Chapter 56

They got home after the others had finished their dinner, but Rick warmed up some leftovers for them. They all wanted to hear all about the 'mission' but Lynn kept them in suspense until they were finished eating. Jack put it off for another half hour while he got his computer hooked up to the TV so they all could see. He made the secure internet connection and there, on a split screen, were two video images – one of the living room and one of the bedroom – from Elaina Bennett's apartment. "There you have it. The fruits of Lynn's spy work. The cameras are triggered by movement or talking, or by a signal from me. They start transmitting the picture and sound over a 4G phone back to my laptop, which I hooked up to the TV display. Whenever a signal comes in, the laptop sounds an alarm and starts recording the video and audio signals for replay later."

"Will we have to keep someone awake to hear the alarm at night?"

"No, I'll sleep on the couch in here. The alarm is loud enough to wake me up."

"No way, Jack! You are not going to leave me alone in bed. I'm sleeping on the couch with you. And no, it won't be too crowded. We'll just snuggle up closer."

Harriet looked at her husband. "Isn't young love a joy to watch, Rick?"

"Hey, I still have the memories of when we were young lovers, dear. I can replay those movies in my head anytime I want to."

"Well, you'd better not be watching those movies unless I'm right there with you. Many of those are 'R' rated."

"As I remember them, they were 'X' rated.'"

Jack broke up the banter. "Enough about memory lane. Let Lynn tell you what it took to get those cameras in place."

"Aw shucks, folks, it weren't nothin'. But here's how it went down – see Jack, I'm learning the spy talk already." Lynn went on to tell the story, with a lot of interruptions for questions. When she was finished, Harriet said "You have the most important gift that any spy would treasure. You can improvise in a second with a perfectly plausible script. There were times on some of my past missions when I wish I had you along."

"It's past 11 p.m. and no one has shown up at the apartment yet, so why don't we turn in and reassess the situation tomorrow. Lynn you would you get some sheets, pillows, and a blanket for our little couch-nest here?"

After they were snuggled up on the couch, spoon fashion, Lynn turned her head toward Jack. "Now, about those Secret Spy Society bylaws . . ."

#

Jack was dragged out of a sound sleep by the computer alarm a couple of hours later. Lynn was already awake sitting in front of the TV screen. "It's Elaina and Senator Roberts. They were laughing and joking out of sight of the camera until they came into the living room and sat on the couch."

They both watched as Elaina knelt and removed Robert's shoes, and then straddled his lap and eased his tie off. "How about fixing me a drink first, sweetie?" She whispered something in his ear that made him smile, and got up to fix the drinks. "I'm going to freshen up first. I'll be back in a minute."

She came back into the living room wearing an almost see-through negligee and carrying two drinks. "Scotch on the rocks, light on the rocks. Just the way you like it."

He gave a lame imitation of an old Jerry Lee Lewis song, "Oooh baby. You knooooow what I like."

"Yes I do, Matthew. Finish your drink and I'll give you some more of what you like."

Roberts drained his glass and followed her into the bedroom. He must have undressed out of the camera's view, because the next thing they saw was Roberts in nothing but his boxers climbing under the bed covers. She appeared at the foot of the bed with her back to the camera and let her negligee slide to the floor. Lynn wondered how far Jack would let this go before turning off the TV, but she shouldn't have worried. He aimed the remote at the TV and shut it down.

"They probably won't be talking about anything of interest to us for the next several minutes. We'll record it and go over it in the morning."

#

Jack woke up the next time to the smell of fresh coffee from a cup Lynn was waving in front of his nose. "Wake up, sleepy head. Our TV lovers are having a conversation with their morning coffee on the couch."

Jack stretched, yawned, and sat up. There, on the big screen, was the happy couple chatting about the weather and when they could get together again.

"I wish we could see each other more, Matthew. I miss you when we're apart more than a couple of days."

Roberts answered, "Me too, honey." while he was thinking 'Pretty soon I'm going to get Winston to erase this threat to my future. Once I enter the race I can't have a reporter uncovering my affair with Elaina.'

"I've been thinking about your plans to announce your candidacy for President. When are you going to make it public?"

"We were planning to wait until just before Super Tuesday, but my campaign manager decided we should get on the ballot for the Iowa caucus and the three primaries in February, so he wants me to announce just before Christmas. That will keep me out of the debates, but get plenty of news coverage while people are off for the holidays."

"Do you trust your campaign manager, what's his name ? Winston Charles?"

"He goes by Win, Win Charles." That's the name Matthew came up with on the spur of the moment last month when he told her he was going to run for President and she started asking questions.

"I haven't heard of him. Does he have much experience managing winning campaigns?"

Roberts replied, "That's why they call him Win, honey." and laughed at his own joke.

"What about campaign financing?"

"He's taking care of that. I'll have all the money I need to win the election."

Roberts turned back to reading the morning paper. Talking politics with her made him uncomfortable; she was too smart for her own good.

Elaina wasn't finished. "Texas Governor Gentry is up 18% in the polls. He will be tough to beat."

"Win has that taken care of that, too. Apparently, Gentry had an affair – with a young man – three years ago. That will hit the news just before the first primaries and should knock him out of the race."

"Is it true, or just something a reporter made up, like that embezzlement hoax?"

"Win has the young man set up for a bombshell interview on CNN a week before the New Hampshire primary. With Gentry out of the race, it will open it up for my landslide victory on Super Tuesday."

"What's this gay man's name? Is he anyone well known?"

"No, he just came out of the woodwork with this story. Win is lucky he found out about the guy before the media did."

Jack turned to Lynn. "She's asking a lot of questions. Do you think she might be spying for Gentry, or even the democrats?"

"You're right. Her questions aren't just conversation fillers. Lets keep watching to see what else Roberts gives up to her feminine wiles."

"You keep on with that, Lynn. I'm going to modify some software so it will record all the audio exchanges between them and print a transcript to study. That way we won't have to watch all the boring sex stuff."
Chapter 57

Over the following week Roberts visited the apartment four times providing more than fifty pages of dialog between them. Jack, Lynn and the others watched the conversations live whenever they had time, but the transcripts proved the most valuable. Lynn was reviewing the conversation from the third visit when her eye froze on the page. She yelled for Jack, who came running along with others. "What happened? Are you O.K.?"

"I found something in the transcript." Lynn pointed to the date and time stamp at the top of the page. "Display the recording that covers this." It only took Jack a minute to have it running. Roberts and Elaina were sitting on the couch having a glass of wine. By the slur in the Senator's voice, this wasn't his first.

Elaina put her arm around his neck and said "Tell me something I don't know about you; something that will surprise me and show a side of you I don't know."

"Why do you want to hear my secrets, darling."

"Because what I know about you is kind of two dimensional. All I see is the persona you put on for the public, and that can be a bit boring. I want to see some depth, the real you, what's behind the face you wear."

"Let's see. . . . Well, I once streaked naked across the Yale football field during halftime. And I got away without being caught."

"That took some balls, dear, but I've seen you naked so there's no surprise in that for me. I want something shocking."

Roberts hesitated. He wanted to impress her, but could he tell her _that_? 'Oh, what the hell. She'll be gone in a week anyway.'

"I killed my first wife and got away with it. Is that shocking enough for you?"

Elaina look at him wide eyed. "You did not! You're just making that up. You don't have the guts to do something like that."

He said, "I hit her over the head with a heavy lamp, several times. Then I stole her jewelry and some other stuff to make it look like a burglary. I even carved a gang logo on her stomach. Check it out on the internet."

"I already have. I searched your past when we first started seeing each other. The report said the police were convinced it was a burglar. They never found him, but the case is still open as a cold case."

Robert's laughed. "See how clever I am? What do you say we go into the bedroom and you can show me how impressed you are." She gave him a kiss and led the way.

They sat in silence while they digested what they just heard. Then Harriet said "Holy Shit! I can't believe this just dropped in our laps. We've got him now for sure. . . . How are we going to handle this?"

Tom answered. "It seems pretty simple to me. We just put this video on YouTube. It will get a million hits the first day and his goose will be cooked."

Rick spoke up. "I don't know if that's the best way, Tom. There is so much phony stuff on the internet. People don't trust what they see, even if it is a video. Roberts can claim it's a fake made by his opponents using an actor that looks like him."

"Good point." Jack noted. "I think the surest way to put Roberts out of commission is to send this video directly to D.C. Metro Police Department. It shouldn't take them long to get a warrant for his arrest."

"So we just make a DVD of this part of the recording and what . . . mail it to the police station?"

"No, there's a good chance it will never get to the right person. I have a way to make sure it gets to the detective handling the cold case. Lynn, will you do a search to find that detective's name?"
Chapter 58

Detective Abraham Friedman had just gotten back to his desk after lunch at nearby deli when the phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, but since the area code was from somewhere in Indiana, he ignored it. As he got back to work he got a call from the front desk. "Abe, you got a letter from a courier down here that you have to sign for. I told the guy I would bring it up to you, but he insisted on handing it over himself. Abe went downstairs, signed for a sealed letter pack, and brought it back to his desk. He wondered briefly if he should have the bomb squad look at it first, but it wasn't big enough to hold a bomb. As he slit it open he thought 'I suppose it could be anthrax or something,' but no puff of white powder came out. He dumped a DVD on his desk and inspected it. There was a note with it:

Detective Friedman;

This DVD has solid evidence, a confession of sorts, that will close a murder case you worked on six years ago. This was recorded live a week ago from a surveillance camera planted by the Agency I work for in a fraud case. We felt it best to get it to you outside official channels for reasons that will be obvious when you see it.

The video is encrypted and can only be viewed by entering the key code. I will call you and give you that code. You will, of course, find no fingerprints or other physical evidence on the disk, so you can view it immediately without sending it to forensics first.

Abraham looked at the phone number from the call he had ignored earlier. He was tempted to call it, but didn't want to screw this thing up, so he went back to his work. Later in the afternoon his phone rang again. He started the record function and answered. "This is detective Abe Friedman. May I help you?"

" _Here is the key code for the DVD you received this afternoon. Get ready to write. MX3265947Z._

Repeat it back to me."

Abe recited it back and immediately heard the connection break.

He inserted the disk into the computer and was prompted for the key code. A title screen opened up.

This is a conversation between Senator Matthew Roberts and his friend, Elaina Bennett, recorded on 25 November 2015, at her Georgetown apartment.

The title screen faded and the conversation began. Three minutes later Abe called his partner. "Al, get over to my desk. You need to see something."

As soon as he played the DVD again he turned to Al. "Did you hear what I heard?"

"He confessed to his wife's murder!"

"It's better than that, Al. He told her about the gang logo he carved in her stomach. That fact was never released. We held it back as something only us and the killer would know. We have this guy cold. Let's run this by the boss and bring Roberts in."

#

Roberts was on the golf course when two men approached him. His partner confronted them. "This is a private golf course. You can't be out here."

They ignored him and approached Roberts. "Senator Matthew Roberts, you are under arrest for the murder of Judith Roberts, your wife. You have the right to remain silent, you have . . ."

Roberts cut him off. "Stop talking. Do you want to draw a crowd? I know and understand the Miranda rights. Now get in the golf cart and let's go somewhere more private."

"I'm sorry sir, we can't do that. You will have to walk back to the squad car with us."

"You're not going to put cuffs on me, are you?"

"Put your hands in front of you, sir."

With the cuffs snapped in place and a golf jacket over his hands, they took him toward the parking lot.

His golf partner couldn't believe what he just saw. He had to keep this quiet somehow. He got into the cart and headed for the club house, but by the time he got there everyone was talking about it. Someone told him that the caddy had seen the whole thing and ran back to tell everyone.

#

Back at the Double Wide they all sat down to watch the evening news. They weren't disappointed. All the networks were carrying the story. They settled on Fox News to listen to the details.

Senator Matthew Roberts was arrested today by detectives from the Washington D.C. Metro Police. He is charged with the murder of his wife six years ago. At the time police ruled the case as a burglary gone bad, but never were able to identify a suspect. The police now say that they have additional evidence that proves conclusively that Judith Roberts was murdered by her husband."

The reporter went on to give the details of the arrest, and show old news video from the murder scene.

Lynn smiled. "I can't believe they arrested him on the golf course. That pretty much guaranteed the public and news media would find out. There's no way Winston can shut this up. Roberts is finished."

They all agreed and passed around high fives. Harriet asked Rick, "Would you break out some expensive wine from our basement wine cellar, my dear. We need to celebrate!"

"Well, I have a fine 2015 Chablis from Carlo Rossi, and a vintage 2015 Franzia Moscato – both in a box and both already half empty. What's your pleasure, madame?"

"Oh, bring them both out. Maybe there's enough left to get us all a little drunk."

They all laughed and gathered in the kitchen to get a glass.

#

They watched the Fox Morning News after breakfast. They repeated what was reported last night, but the update was interesting. The Senator was released on a half-million dollar bail. There was nothing about who put up the bail, but they agreed it must have been Winston.

"Rick, do you think you can trace that bail back to Winston somehow?"

"I don't know Jack, he probably did it through one of his disconnected companies. I'll see what I can find out."

Jack rapped on the table with his empty coffee cup. "I now call this meeting of the Heroes of the Republic to order. The business for today is to discuss how Winston might react to the arrest of Roberts. Who wants the floor first?"

Harriet had a concern. "Roberts is out of the race, but I wonder if Winston has a backup waiting in the wings – someone who will do the same things as president that Roberts was going to? Jim, did you hear any word of this while you were with Winston and his staff?"

"No, Winston focused entirely on Senator Roberts. He even had a body guard detail watching him and he was driven everywhere by one of Winston's men. They didn't want some accident to ruin everything."
Chapter 59

Charles Winston was furious! 'How could Roberts have given away the only thing that would assure his defeat. And how could the police find out about it so quickly. I sent Elaina to Roberts to keep an eye on him, and to test him about keeping secrets. She purposely baited him to see if he would tell anything about his connection to Winston. That was her job. She got him to talk about the murder, but how did the police get the information? Elaina must have sold out to them. That's the only answer. He picked up his secure cell phone and called Alexei. "Get over here as soon as you can. I have a couple of assignments for you."

An hour later Alexei was in Winston's office. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I have two problems that could destroy the years of work it took me to set all this in motion. And now, as we're nearing the finish line, it's all about to fall apart. I suppose you have seen the news about Senator Roberts."

"Yes sir."

"I had one of my people bail him out of jail. He's now at home waiting for me to call. I want him taken care of. It has to be a suicide. The police might be running a stakeout on his house, so be careful. After you finish this job, I have another one for you. I want no evidence of a struggle in her apartment, and I want her body to disappear. The details are in this packet. Let me know when you're finished. There's a big bonus in this if you can do it right."

"Yes sir, You can count on me."

#

Jack and the others turned on the TV to watch the evening news. The Breaking News banner was already flashing and the announcer was in mid sentence.

. . . of a gunshot wound to the head at his home this afternoon. The Senator didn't leave a suicide note, but his arrest yesterday was probably a factor. We will air a special tonight at 9 p.m. about Senator Matthew Roberts' life and career.

No one spoke at first. Then Lynn said "Do you think it was really suicide, or did we get him killed?"

"Either way he won't be spending the rest of his life in prison for murder," Jack commented. "But if I were a betting man, I would put my money on Winston's men. He had some of our agents killed to protect his conspiracy, and Roberts was a bigger threat than we ever were. I definitely believe he ordered the killing."

They sat in silence for awhile, contemplating the events of the past two days; realizing that they had a hand in it – in the Senator's murder. Their only crime was unauthorized entry to the apartment . . . and illegal surveillance. But those were both misdemeanors.

Harriet cleared her throat. "We are all feeling responsible right now, but we didn't kill him, Winston's henchmen did. And we didn't order the killing, Winston did. So stop feeling sorry for yourselves and let's get the bastards! That's our new mission: to prove Winston and his hired killers committed these murders, and those of the FRA agents. Agreed?"

Lynn laughed. "I'm waiting for the theme from Superman, or the Avengers to play."

#

They were all in a good mood over breakfast – talking about getting their lives back to normal. But Jack looked deep in thought.

"Earth to Jack, Earth to Jack. Come in Jack." Lynn joked.

"Sorry. I was thinking ahead about our new mission – getting Winston and his thugs put behind bars. And everyone else who was responsible for this mess." He turned to Jim, "Who are his thugs, Jim. Who has been doing his dirty work for him?"

"Originally it was Blackworth security, but you guys made them look like fools so Winston fired them and hired Alexei Brusilov. He has a low profile security firm that employs mostly security professionals and hired guns from Russia, and has no scruples about what he will do for a client if asked."

"Where is his firm located? Is it in the D.C. area?"

"That's a problem. He has no permanent location. To stay below the law enforcement radar, he operates out of old warehouses and changes locations every few months."

"Do you know where he's operating from now?

"No one knows where his headquarters are. He uses only untraceable cell phones and most of his employees work out of their homes. He calls them, gives them a mission, they complete the job, and report back to Alexei. Most of his people don't even know where he is."

"Jim, would you make a list of everyone you think was involved in murdering the FRA agents and the man in the Alexandria Hyatt, killing Senator Roberts, chasing us around the country, planting false scandal details to get the right wingers elected, and anyone else who should be sent to jail over this conspiracy. That will be our 'wanted' list for our new mission."

"So what now, Jack?"

"I think it's time to get out of here and back into the real world. Let's plan our exit from here, get everything packed up in boxes, then load it in the utility trailer. We'll take tomorrow to do that and plan to leave the next morning."

That brought cheers and laughter from everyone.

Rick tapped a spoon on a glass to get everyone's attention.

"I volunteer to be the relocation focal point. Let me know where you plan to go and I'll get you some real estate listings for rentals and homes for sale."

"Can you find me a nice condo in the Bahamas?" Jim asked.

"I'll find you a fancy condo where the ratio of women to men is at least ten to one, and the average age of the women is under forty."

"I forgot about your predicament, Jim. Winston may be out to have you killed for betraying him. I can put you in touch with a guy in Miami who can give you a new identity."

"I'm ahead of you on that, Jack. Like most of us who came out of the spy business, I have my own set of new identity documents. And before you picked me up, I transferred all my money and investments to a numbered Caribbean bank account."

"Great, Jim. Now, about getting you all to where you want to go. Tom, you can catch airline connections to wherever your family is from the Charleston airport, if you aren't afraid to take off from the flat top of a mountain. Jim, you can get connections from there through Miami to the Bahamas."

He looked at Harriet and Rick. "We have decided to take a long vacation in Ft. Lauderdale before we settle down somewhere. That will give us time to recover, reconnect, and find the home of our dreams. We can get a flight out of Charleston to Miami and drive back to Ft. Lauderdale."

"Well, that's settled, then. After we take you all to the airport, Lynn, O'Malley I will head for Colorado."

Lynn added, "With a stop along the way to get married and have a honeymoon."
Chapter 60

The next morning Jack went down into Pittston and bought some casual clothes, toiletries, and a suitcase for Jim. The jogging suit he was wearing then they snatched him off the street wasn't suitable for traveling. By noon Jack had all of the electronics and weapons he took from his cabin packed into the utility trailer and was ready to roll first thing in the morning. After lunch they got together to share tales from their past, and that turned into a contest to see who could tell the tallest tale and make the others believe it really happened. After supper Jack called them together again to talk about plans for the future.

"Based on Harriet's idea, our new mission is to find a way to tie Charles Winston and his flunkies to murders, election fraud, and other illegal acts we hope to discover and have them brought to justice. Is everyone agreed on that?"

Harriet said, "Well stated, Jack. What are we going to call our gang of justices seekers?"

"The floor is open for suggestions."

Lynn spoke first, "How about _Getting Even_ , or maybe _Payback is a Bitch_."

Tom gave it some thought. "I think it should be something that means nothing to others. Something that we can use among ourselves for emails and media news releases. A name that Winston will grow to hate."

"I like that idea. I think we should even have our own web site where we can release hints of his shenanigans and keep followers posted about our activities and progress. Let other crusaders help us do the digging and uncover evidence."

"Jack, I think you hit on just what we need here. You can keep the web site anonymous and untraceable, can't you?"

"It will take some work but, yeah, I can do that. . I can create a site that no one can trace to us, so we can use innuendos and half truths without being sued or shut down."

"Will the NSA with their secret eavesdropping techniques be able to trace it back to us?"

"It will be a challenging problem, but that's what I'm best at. Give me two months and I think I can have us online and untraceable. All we need is a mysteriously cryptic name. O.K., everybody to your laptop. I want half a dozen possible names in 10 minutes."

#

Lynn spoke up first. "Forseti! He's the Norse God of Justice. We could call ourselves the Forsetians."

Jack smiled. "I think we have a winner. Has anyone found something better? No? Then it's settled. We are the Forsetians. Kind of like 'We are Marshall' – the battle cry of the Marshall University football team that replaced the team killed in a plane crash. . . . taking off from a flat topped mountain."

Rick asked "What's so scary about flying from a flat topped mountain."

Jack answered, "Because when you shave off the top of a mountain to make an airport, all the surrounding mountains are higher than the runway.

The next thing to settle on is how we will communicate. I'll set up a secure video conferencing network and we can all meet online. That will take some custom software that has to be installed on each of your laptops. When it's finished I'll send you an encrypted website to log onto. Once I verify your identity I'll take over your computer and install the software. I'll need another week for that. I'll let you know when I'm ready."

"What next, Jack?"

"As they say in the movie business, 'That's a wrap.' I think were done here."

Jack expected a cheer, but got looks touched with sadness instead. This had been an adventure of sorts, one they all shared intimately. Leaving this closeness behind was going to be tough.

#

They pulled away from the Double Wide after breakfast the next morning. An hour later they pulled up in front of the airport terminal in Jack's truck and Lynn's Jeep and said their goodbyes. Lynn and Jack put their communications headsets on as Jack said "Follow me."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Twenty minutes later they pulled into storage facility. "Stay in the Jeep. I'll be right back." Jack came out of the office and waved Lynn down a driveway between the storage buildings. Halfway down he stopped, unlocked and opened the door, and pointed for Lynn to pull the Jeep in. She got out with a puzzled look on her face. "Why am I parked here?"

"You didn't think we were going to drive to Colorado in two vehicles, did you?"

"What about the tow bar we used coming out here?"

"I left that back at the farm. There wasn't room to pack it. I want you snuggled up next to me on the truck seat for the whole trip. Especially after we stop to get married. We'll fly back here and pick up your Jeep in a couple of weeks."

"Oh, Jack!! This is wonderful. I can't believe we're finally free."

"Climb in the truck while I lock up."

#

They had been on the road for an hour before Lynn asked, "Well, when are we going to stop."

"That depends – where do you want to get married. Want to wait for Colorado?"

"You're joking of course. Let's pull off at the next town and find the courthouse. Then we can find a mom and pop motel – one with concrete block walls of course – and break our vow. By the way, you never told me what it is with you and concrete block motels."

Jack laughed and said "I'll tell you tonight. But we'll need them even more tonight."

#

Jack closed and locked the motel room door as Lynn stepped into his arms. They enjoyed the closeness of their bodies for a few minutes, then Jack said "I'll shower first."

He came out in his boxers and T-shirt and saw that Lynn had turned the bed down. He smiled as he stretched out on the bed. Lynn leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I'll be back in a few minutes. Save my place – and don't you dare go to sleep," and laughed as she closed the bathroom door.

Jack waited impatiently while he heard the shower run, and imagined what she must look like in there. Then the door opened. Lynn stuck her head around the door jam and said with a mischievous smile, "Guess what. I forgot to bring my pajamas in here with me . . ." and stepped into the room.

#

They woke up midmorning, entangled in each other and the sheets. Jack looked down at Lynn's face and felt his heart swell with love. Lynn gave him a quick kiss. "What a night! Definitely worth the wait. I'm going to shower, and I expect a cup of coffee waiting for me when I come out."

"So now that we're married you're going to boss me around?"

"Honey, do you suppose you could get me a cup of coffee while I'm in the shower?"

"That's more like it, sweetheart."

Jack slipped into his clothes and headed for the front office to get some coffee and Danish. When he got back Lynn was sitting on the bed. "Come over here and hold me, so I know I'm not dreaming."

Jack set the coffee and rolls down on the bedside table, eased into bed, and leaned back against the headboard. He put his arms around her, pulled her into his lap, and wrapped his arms around her. He held her awhile, then reached for the coffee cups. "Let's check out the news and see what happened while we were in dreamland." He picked up the TV remote and turned on Fox News. The talking heads were stuck on the upcoming primary elections, and Jack was about to turn it off when he heard what they were talking about.

The latest twist in the republican race is the announcement by wealthy financier Charles Winston that he has entered the race for the Presidency. Here is his announcement:

" _I have been watching the economy of this country go downhill for the past eight years, and if it doesn't stop, we are headed for an economic Armageddon within a year. That's not a prediction. That's a fact. As CEO of Winston Securities I understand the banking system and the Federal attempts to control it into self destruction. This is the single most important issue in this campaign and I am the only candidate with the knowledge and experience to see what needs to be done and make it happen. All of our other problems – the budget deficit, the national debt, the underfunding of our military, and the overspending on Government mandated health care – they all hinge on the economy. If we don't fix this . . . our country will collapse . . . and China will own us. I'm the only candidate who can stop this and save America."_

Lynn turned to Jack. "Oh my God, Jack! What are we going to do!"

COMING SOON

Book 2 of the Jack & Lynn Preston Series

The Forseti Solution

Retired Agent Jack Preston and his new wife, Lynn, have settled onto her Rocky Mountain home after uncovering a conspiracy by a wealthy financier to control the outcome of the next Presidential election. Their attempts to expose the plot failed, and now they have to find a way to reveal the illegal activities of the soon-to-be President before he can destroy democracy in America. Using his superb skills as a hacker, he joins a team of ex-agents to uncover hidden files and facts that will send the Winston and his team of ultra-conservative extremists to prison. But the conspirators are out to stop them – for good. Can Jack's Federal Agent training in escape, evasion, and firearms keep them alive long enough to stop the impending political tragedy?

Feel free to contact me with comments and questions at

JDGerman.Author@AOL.com

About the Author

J. D. German retired from a 40 year career as a scientist to a lake in southwestern Georgia. His career focused on the development of laser and optical devices for the Department of Defense and other Government agencies. Some of these devices have been patented, and show up as the "gadgets" that Jack Preston uses in the book.

Although _The Hermetrius Conspiracy_ is his first novel, he has authored several other documents that are not available to the public. He is presently working his second novel, _The Forseti Solution_ , which picks up with Jack and Lynn Preston continuing their fight to stop the ultra-conservative billionaire, Charles Winston, from taking over the country.

Mr. German can be contacted by email at JDGerman.Author@AOL.com.

