Collapse (44 page)

"No. They’re here somewhere, though, so keep looking."

They didn't have to look very long. They saw Chad and his father walking back toward their RV with Richard’s son following close behind.  Richard tapped Tank on the shoulder, and they both started walking back to the RV.  Suddenly, Chad spotted them and turned, grabbing his father’s arm to stop him.  Richard's son noticed nothing and kept walking toward the RV.  Richard was relieved that his son kept going.  If things went poorly with Chad, the last thing he wanted was a repeat of Oswald Jefferson's murder.  He had scarred his son for life by brutally murdering a man in front of him; he didn’t plan to repeat it.

Chad had his chest stuck out and was staring Richard down, ready to take him on if he had to.  However, his bravado was quickly squashed when he saw Tank. 

"Fuck you want?"

"Well, Chad, we need to have a little talk."

"How the fuck you know my name?"

"Well, we have a lot in common, you see.  You're dating my ex-wife."

"No shit, you're Bryan?"

"No, I'm her first husband."

"Bullshit! That guy's dead."

"I look dead to you?"

"No, you look like a lying sack of shit to me."

"Listen here, sport, I couldn’t care less if you believe me or not.  What's important for you to know is I'm here to take my kids."

"Is that right?"

"That's right."

"Fuck off, man.  They ain't your kids.  I don't know what kind of bullshit scam you're trying to pull, but it's not going to work.  I've made a lot of friends here, and they ain't gonna let you do a fucking thing."

"Monique ever tell you about her first husband?"

"Yeah, she told me everything."

"Well, most of it’s probably untrue, given the fact that she told you I was dead.  I'm curious - where is Monique?  You bring her along?"

"I'm getting tired of listening to you, man.  Fuck off."  Chad started to walk away, but Richard stopped him dead in his tracks.

"She's at home strung out on heroin."  Richard watched as Chad stopped walking and turned around with a look of shock on his face.  "There ya go, sport!  Knew that would grab your attention.  You made up some tale about her being Florence Nightingale staying behind to care for sick patients.  Complete garbage, but I will give it to you, not a bad cover story."

Richard paused to let in sink in.  Chad was frantically searching for something to say and finally spoke to his father in a weak voice, "Dad, he's lying, you know that."

Richard saw confusion on the older man’s face. He obviously knew the kind of man his son was and doubted his story. "Chad, please tell me you didn't do what I think you did.  I thought the Good Lord had changed you. Your mother and I have prayed for your soul, and we thought you had truly found Jesus."

"Don't start with that shit!  I'm not getting into this with you again!"

"I have had just about enough of your foul tongue. The Bible says...”

"Shut up!  Go back to the RV, and let me handle this!"

"Tell this man the truth!"

"Go back to the RV, now!"

"I will, son.  Your mother and I will be praying for your soul.  It will break her heart when she hears about this.” The old man wiped tears from his cheeks as he looked at Richard and nodded.

"Start talking, sport.  What's the truth you need to tell me?  You Monique's dealer?  Why didn't you bring her?  She cheating on you?  Found a better score?"

"Fuck that bitch!  I was gonna bring her along so I could sell her pussy.  She's a fucking freak in the sack, but you already know that, don't you?"

Richard’s blood began to boil. He was ready to break this little punk's jaw but managed to keep his cool for his children's sake.  "Listen here, sport, I'm not in the slightest bit concerned about my junkie ex-wife.  The only thing that matters to me is getting my kids the hell away from you.  This is what's gonna happen. You’re gonna go back to the RV and explain to your parents that those kids are mine, and they are coming with me.  No one needs to get hurt."

"Well, that's gonna be a problem.  You can have your son. I’m tired of that little shit anyway.  Only reason he's here is he keeps my parents busy and off my back.  Your daughter?  Well, sorry to tell you she ain't here."

"You wanna run that by me again, sport?  What do you mean she ain't here?  Where is she?  You leave her with her mother?  Because if you did, that's a problem. She wasn't in the house."

"Well, two RV-Towns back we were completely out of gas.  This nice couple really, really liked her.  They had a little toddler that needed a big sister. So, I traded a full tank of gas for little Chrissy.”

Richard leapt forward and pinned Chad against the RV behind him. He punched him in the stomach and rammed his knee into his balls. Once he was doubled over in pain, Richard propped him back up against he RV, pinning his shoulders down. “You’re lying! Your parents...”

“My parents think the family is gonna catch up with us, thinks Chrissy is playing big sister with the little rugrat. I seriously doubt they’re even close. The dad really liked Chrissy. I mean, like
really
liked her a lot.”

Richard fought as hard as he could to maintain control of himself. Ever fiber of his being, every single muscle in his body was crying out to introduce this man to Oswald Jefferson deep down in the lowest bowels of hell.
You need him to find Chrissy. You need him to find Chrissy. You need him to find Chrissy.
He kept repeating the phrase over and over in his mind.

Richard’s self control slipped farther away as the man began to laugh at him. “You can’t kill me and you know it. Look around you, asshole. Every person here has a gun, and somebody will shoot you dead if I so much as scream. A few people have already seen us and are running to get help, so you better let me go.” Chad looked past Richard at Tank. “And keep your dog on a leash. He might be the biggest mother fucker I’ve ever see in my life, but someone empties a clip into him he’ll go down just the same.”

Richard knew the dead man walking was right. He needed to think fast or things would get out of hand in a hurry. Richard decided fear and intimidation were his only course.

“This is what I’m gonna do, sport. You ready? Here we go.”

Richard rammed his knee into Chad’s balls again and when he doubled over, Richard wrapped his arm around his neck. Richard placed the crook of his arm directly on top of the man’s voice box and flexed his bicep and forearm, cutting off the blood supply to his internal and external jugular veins. In less than ten seconds, Chad was unconscious.

“Billy, get him out of this area quick before anyone comes back. Do. Not. Kill. Him. I need him alive!” Tank picked up Chad like a rag doll and ran around the side of the RV and behind another one.

Richard needed answers and had no intention of trying to get them from Chad. He walked back to his parents’ RV and knocked on the door. The door opened and standing in front of Richard was his firstborn child. He was so focused and determined to find out what happened to his daughter that he had forgotten about his son. Richard was speechless and couldn’t take his eyes off the boy. He was thirteen years old and looked just like his father had at that age. Richard’s eyes filled with tears as he searched for some glimmer of recognition in his son’s eyes.

“Hello, Timothy.”

“Do you know me?”

“I do, yes.”

“Who are you?”

A tear spilled down Richard’s cheek, and he searched for what to say. Would his son be immediately brought back to the nursery seeing his father brutally take a man’s life in front of his very eyes? Would he scream at him in fear? Would Timothy even remember him? Had his mind built a psychological barrier around the horrible memory, protecting him from insanity? Richard had been through hell and back to get to this moment. He had no choice but to take the leap.

“Timothy, this might be hard for...”

“Where’s my boy? Where’s Chad?” The old man stepped from the back of the RV with a look of terror on his face. “Is he okay?”

“Your son is fine, sir. We need to talk. May I please come in?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Come on inside and sit down. Timmy, go in the back with Grammy so I can talk with his man. Go on now. Turn on a movie and keep her company, hurry up.”

Richard’s son walked to the back of the RV and slid the partition closed. The old man waited for the sound of the movie to drown out their conversation, “I’m no fool, mister. That boy back there looks just like you. You’re his daddy, I know that. I’m sure you’re worried about Chrissy, and you should be.”

“Sir, I didn’t get your name,” asked Richard.

“Morris Jackson.”

“My name is Richard. What do you think happened to her?”

“Well, that’s just it. I’m not sure. I've been trying my hardest to get the truth outta that boy.  He has his mother believing the story he made up.  Barbara believes everything that boy tells her.  She refuses to admit that our son has problems. We've raised him up to be a God fearing, Christian man, but he..."

  "Morris, I got him to tell me the truth and I need your help."

  "Oh Lord help that boy.  Chrissy not with that family?  She not meetin’ us here?"

  "She's with the family, sir, but they're not meeting us here.  Your son sold my daughter for a tank of gas."

  As Morris began to weep uncontrollably, Richard continued.  "Sir, I need your help if I'm gonna get Chrissy back.  I'm hoping you met this family and can describe their RV to me."

  "Oh Lord Jesus! That sweet girl!  What did he do to that precious girl?   Lord in heaven above, I beseech thee to keep that innocent lamb safe from harm!  Please Jesus, please!"  Morris fell to the floor and pleaded and begged through desperate tears. "Oh Heavenly Father, I beg of you to spare that innocent child!  Please!"

Richard was uncomfortable listening to the man pray.  Richard believed in God but was cursed with the memories associated with the Winchester Street Baptist Church.  Worship had never been the same since Oswald Jefferson and that fateful day.  Richard waited until Morris was done petitioning the Almighty and helped him up off the floor.

"Morris, you can help me save my daughter.  Tell me about the family, and try to remember what the RV looked like."

"Mister, I'm afraid I can't help you.  I never met them or saw the RV."

"Your wife?"

"No, sir, she would have never let Chrissy go with anybody. No way, no how."

  Richard closed his eyes as crushing despair fell down on him.  He only had one course of action - kidnap Chad and double back down Interstate 25.  "Morris, I'm gonna have to take Chad with me so I can track down my little girl.  I trust my son is in good hands?"

  "Absolutely.  I will protect him to my dying breath."

"Sir, you have my sincere gratitude.  I'll be back as soon as I can."

"If we're not here in the RV, then we'll be down in this bunker place that's supposed to be here."

"Thank you."  Richard exited the RV and raced back to the spot where they’d confronted Chad.  He looked around but couldn't see Tank in the immediate vicinity. Then Richard saw several people running and decided to follow them.  He rounded an RV and was shocked to see two uniformed police officers.  One was an absolutely gorgeous woman, and the other was a man in his early forties with a very noticeable limp.  They had their weapons drawn and pointed at someone.  Richard walked around the crowd to get a better look.

Tank was standing with both arms raised in the air.  In his left hand he was holding up Chad by his hair.  In his bloody right hand he was holding a chunk of torn flesh from Chad's neck.  Richard looked at Chad's face, his eyes open and vacant.  Chad was dead.  He was on his way to hell to meet Oswald Jefferson and share with him the secret of Chrissy's whereabouts.  Richard’s face turned red, and the veins in his forehead bulged.  He balled his fists as he looked at Tank and howled in rage.

  He was going to kill that mother fucker.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Chief Maxwell Harris and Sergeant Elizabeth Reed were sitting in their SUV a mile away from Beck Estates.  The two police officers couldn’t believe what they were seeing in front of them.

  "Son of a bitch," said Max.

  "What's the plan, boss man?" asked Elizabeth.

"I have no idea."

"I feel much better. Glad to know you're on top of things."

"I'm open to suggestions."

"I don't have any."

"You're a big help."

  "Hey, I'm just along for the ride."

  In the valley below them stood the largest house they had ever seen.  While the house was impressive enough to take their breath away, what concerned them was the military base being built across from the main gate.  It was massive.  Row upon row of temporary buildings had been erected, and an entire platoon of soldiers stood guard at the main gate of Beck Estates.  Max and Elizabeth watched in awe as a formation of helicopters took off from an adjacent field and headed south. 

  "And to think I pictured us just knocking on the front door."

"Not thinking that’s an option."

"Clearly."  Max had no idea what to do.  He thought about just turning around and driving back to Truth or Consequences, New Mexico to pick up Dr. Stone.  They had come too far to turn around.  The military force in front of him had kidnaped four innocent civilians against their will.  Their poor families deserved an explanation.

Elizabeth turned to face Max. "You know they're not just going to let us sit here.  Pretty soon they're going to send someone up here to find out what we’re doing."

"Did it cross your mind that we might be drafted into military service?"

"I would look positively stunning in a military uniform.  Your crippled ass probably wouldn't make the cut.  If they did let you in, you’d be sitting in front of a desk shuffling paperwork."

"You'd look stunning in a potato sack.  And you're definitely right. I don't see me passing any physicals."

"What do you want to do?"

"The only thing we can do - drive up to the front gate and demand to speak to someone in charge."

"Probably shouldn't make any demands.  I’d stick to saying pretty please."

"Good idea."

Max drove forward very slowly.  When he was a few hundred yards from the front gate, he flipped a switch and the red and blue lights on the roof lit up.  He figured it was a good idea to display a little authority.  Twenty yards shy of the gate, an armed soldier signaled for him to stop.

"State your business," said the soldier in a stern voice.

"I'm here to see your commander."

"Sir, I need to see credentials for both of you."

"Of course."  Max and Elizabeth reached into their shirt pockets and pulled out their badges.  Max handed both ID wallets to the soldier and waited as he inspected them closely.

"I need to inspect your vehicle. Please step out and surrender your firearms."

"Sure thing."  Max and Elizabeth slowly stepped out of the SUV and handed over their weapons.

The first soldier spoke, "Chief Harris, what brings you to our nation's capital?"

Max and Elizabeth exchanged puzzled looks. "I'm searching for four missing persons. I was hoping that your commander might be able to share some information that would aide in the search."

"Sergeant!  Come take a look at this!" said one of the soldiers searching the SUV.  The first soldier placed Max and Elizabeth's IDs in his front pocket and walked to the back of the SUV.  He glanced in the back and walked back to Max.

"Chief, I need you explain why the back of your vehicle is full of gasoline."

Max smiled. "Not a lot of gas stations open these days.  We've come a long way."

"Very true.  This is what I'm going to do.  I'm going to fill out a confiscation form and store the gasoline in a secure area.  Once you leave, it will be returned to you.  I'm sure you understand the precaution."

"Of course.  No objections," said Max.

The soldier keyed up his radio and gave instructions.  Minutes later, two soldiers arrived with a cart, loaded up the gasoline and hauled it away.

"Chief, ma'am, if the two of you will wait over there in that building, I will contact General Butler.   Please be patient. General Butler is a busy man and will be with you in due time."

"Thank you," said Max.  He and Elizabeth did as they were instructed.  The one room building resembled a briefing room of some sort. As they were sitting down, Max leaned toward Elizabeth and whispered, "I'm sure they're watching us."  Without moving her lips, Elizabeth let out a barely audible "Yeah."

Max decided to give his hosts something to watch and struck up a conversation with Elizabeth. "Isn't this exciting?  I can't believe we’re actually in the new capital!"

Elizabeth played along. "You think they might let us inside?  I wonder what they call this place?"

Elizabeth deserved an Academy Award for the acting she was doing. "You know, this place gives me hope.  They're really doing something special here.  I can't wait to tell my grandchildren that I was here when it was first built.  This is just too cool.  To think that folks like us get a front row seat to the birth of a new nation.  I'm just beside myself." 

"Me, too," said Max.

A young soldier walked into the room and spoke. "Can I get you folks anything?  Something to drink?"

Max looked at Elizabeth, who shook her head, and then back at the soldier. "I think we're fine, thank you."

"Just let me know if you need anything, I was told to inform you that General Butler will be here shortly."

"Thank you," smiled Max as the young soldier walked out.

"Wow, we get to meet a general? How awesome is that?" asked Elizabeth.

"Pretty awesome," replied Max.  Someday soon they’d have a laugh about this conversation.

A few minutes later, a man and woman walked into the room.  The man was General Butler. Max could clearly read his nametag and see the star on his lapel.  The woman was a tall, attractive blonde in her mid-thirties.  As Max and Elizabeth stood to greet the pair, General Butler walked forward and shook Max's hand. "You must be Chief Harris. I'm General Jackson Butler, this is Stacy Reid." 

Max shook Stacy's hand. "I'm Maxwell Harris, this is Elizabeth Reed." 

With the introductions out of the way, General Butler sat down at the table and the other three followed suit.  Once everyone was comfortable, General Butler gave Max his full attention and waited for him to speak.

"General, first of all I'm thankful for your time. I know you must be busy."

"Not too busy to help a law enforcement official.  What can I do for you?"

"Well, I'll get right to the point.  I evacuated from Texas and made my way into New Mexico, where I came across a bunch of nice folks who needed our help. The local chief there had his hands full, so we gladly offered our services.  Four of their citizens were kidnapped recently, and I'm trying to find them.  I hope that you might be able to help us."

"In what way?"

"Well, I can't think of anyone close by who could do a better job of spreading the word and keeping an eye out for these folks," Max reached into his jacket and pulled out four photographs. “Three doctors and one nurse, taken right out of the little hospital in the town.  You have any information that might be of use?  Would you ask around and see if you come up with anything?"

General Butler picked up the photographs and studied them. "Well, Chief Harris, these folks don't look familiar, and I haven't heard anything about any kidnappings.  I will certainly circulate these photographs and have my men keep their eyes and ears open.  Do you have any more details that might be useful? Any idea who took them?"

Max knew the man was lying but didn't show it. "No idea.  The hospital staff noticed them missing, and they searched the area but came up with nothing."

"Well, forgive me for being blunt, Chief, but how do you know they didn't skip town together?"

"I asked the same question. Three out of four of them have spouses and children and they didn't leave word with them.  Their families haven't heard from them at all.  One person running out on their family I can believe, but four all at the same time?  And from the same place?  I don't buy it.  Someone took them."

"What are your plans from here?"

"I'm going to keep searching the area.  With your permission, I’ll check back here in a week or so to see if you've come up with anything."

"Of course. In the meantime we’ll do everything we can to help track these folks down.  Unless there’s something else I can help you with, I have work to do."

Max stood up and shook General Butler's hand. "You've been a big help, thank you.  Let me just say that it’s a true honor to be here, and we both appreciate everything you’re doing to get our country back on track."

Stacy stood up. "General, with your permission, I'd like to give our guests a tour of the base's non-restricted areas."

General Butler spoke over his shoulder as he exited the building. "Of course, Stacy, go right ahead."

Once General Butler was out of earshot, Max looked at Stacy. "I appreciate the offer, ma'am, but we really need to get going.  We would hate to be a burden."

"Chief, I insist. It's no trouble at all.  Please, follow me." 

Max looked at Elizabeth and realized they didn't have much of a choice. "You ready?  I know you really want to look around."

Elizabeth grinned. "I'm really excited!  This is going to be fun!"

The three of them exited the building and walked across the road.  Soldiers were marching by in formation singing a cadence.  Humvees and other vehicles drove up and down the road. 

Stacy smiled. "May I call you Maxwell?"

"Max."

"Max, do the two of you have good poker faces?"

"Excuse me?" said Max.

"I have a lot to tell you, and it’s important that you don't react.  I'm going to lead you around like a tour guide and point stuff out to you. All you have to do is look interested.  Are we clear?"

  Max was getting very nervous. "Yes, we'll play along."

  "Good. Just keep smiling like you’re at Disney World for the first time."

"Is Disney World still standing after Luther?"

"I have no idea, but I doubt it."

Elizabeth was grinning like a little girl. "Are we in danger?"

"It's best that you don't ask questions; we don't have a lot of time.  Just let me talk."

"Okay."

"Chances are pretty good that your people are here. They've been kidnapping hundreds of people and keeping them prisoner in the detention center.  They have the nerve to call it a 'draft' so they can tell themselves they're doing the right thing.  They keep the people locked up like they committed a crime and won't let them contact their families."  Stacy smiled and placed her hand on Max's shoulder and pointed behind him.  Max turned around and looked at a tall array of antennas and appeared impressed.

"Let me guess. We're about to be drafted?"

"Yes. General Butler was about to take you to the detention center himself, so I volunteered.” Stacy looked at Elizabeth and laughed cheerfully like they were becoming best friends, "The General really likes you a lot, Elizabeth. Said you were going to be his personal assistant."

Elizabeth didn't have to fake a laugh; a genuine one was no problem. “He's not even my type.  Besides, my boyfriend here wouldn't like that very much."

"Boyfriend?  Are we in high school or something?" said Max.

"I've got more to say, but I need to hurry.  If you didn't already know, this is Howard Beck's house.  I have no idea what happened to Howard. He managed to escape before they could get to him.  I've contacted Howard's son, Marshall.  He loaded his family into an RV, and they're headed to a secret underground facility Howard built north of here.  Head up Interstate 25 and look in the RV-Towns for him.  Marshall is the spitting image of his father, so you shouldn't have a hard time finding him."

Max looked out at a large pasture full of helicopters and pointed at them with huge eyes. "How are we gonna get out of here?"

Stacy smiled and shook her head, making it look like she was giving a lecture on the helicopters. "The motor pool is just up ahead. They trust the mechanics to keep an eye on everything, but they spend most of their time playing grab ass.  I'm going to flirt with them as a diversion while you two slip around the side of the bay and make a break for it.  Your SUV have a thumbprint key?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I hope you have a full tank of gas."

"Full enough."

"Find Marshall Beck and tell him President Sterling needs to be stopped.  I don't have proof, but I'm convinced he murdered President Powers."

"Are you serious? Powers is dead? Sterling killed him?" Max and Elizabeth both struggled to maintain their poker faces.

Stacy smiled. “Yes, I’m sure of it.”