Operation (19 page)

“Agent Barrett,” he replied quickly and then asked, “Did you drive this vehicle this evening.”

“No. I did not drive the vehicle,” Jake said.

“Not at all?” the agent pushed.

“That’s right,” replied Jake.

“Well, the hood is quite warm for a car that has been sitting all night,” the agent said.

“I…ah…I just arrived here, so of course it’s going to warm,” Jake said. “You asked me about last night. The car sat at my house where I live. I drove it to come here this morning and walk. You know, exercise?”

“You come here to walk,” the agent said, not in the form of a question, but as a doubtful assertion. “Where do you walk? And who do you walk with?”

“I walk here,” Jake said and indicated the ball field area. “I come here alone. You don’t see anyone else, do you?”

“Not at the moment.”

“What’s this all about?” Jake asked trying to hide his nervousness. He was walking a fine tightrope between lies and the truth and this man was obviously trying to get him to slip up and reveal something. He wondered if this agent had followed Christina here. If so, he was walking deeper into a pile of shit.

“I’m conducting an investigation that I am not at liberty to discuss at the moment. So you’re telling me you did not drive this car tonight? Is that correct sir? What did you say your name was?”

“My name is the same one as on the registration you just looked at a few minutes ago. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to go to work, Agent….” Jake said as he opened the wallet to look at the identification.

Expecting to see the FBI logo and identification, he was surprised to find that the wallet contained nothing at all. As Jake raised his eyes to look back at the agent, he felt the cold steel of the gun barrel resting on the back of his head.

Shit!
Jake thought.
I should have walked away from this one.

“Now,” the man who Jake felt pretty confident was probably not an FBI agent began, “I am going to ask you a few questions. But before I do, I want you to know that I am very tired as well as hungry. The sooner you tell me the truth, the sooner you can go about your business and me about mine. If you bullshit me, I will shoot you right here and now and then I will go and eat a hearty breakfast without any remorse or loss of appetite. Are WE clear?”

“You can’t talk…”

Jake’s head was shoved into the roof of the car. He saw a momentary flash of light fill his vision as well as feeling a bolt of pain.

“I will ask the questions,” the man said. “Are we clear on that?”

“Yeah I get your drift,” Jake said as his vision slowly cleared.

“Good. Now, let’s start this conversation again. You didn’t drive the vehicle did you?”

“Well…”

The man jabbed the barrel into the side of Jake’s skull and the older man felt searing pain rip through his head.

“Christ!” Jake yelled.

“I want direct answers,” the man said. “Was I not clear on that?”

“Alright! Alright,” Jake said. The throbbing in his head pounded unmercifully.

“You did not drive this vehicle tonight did you?” the man repeated.

“No,” answered Jake.

“Who did?”

“I don’t know,” Jake answered.

The next sound Jake heard was the pistol cocking. It was very loud and distinct and there was no mistaking it for anything else.

“I don’t have the patience for this,” the man said. “If you do not answer correctly, that sound of the pistol being cocked will be the last sound you ever hear. Now, who drove the car?” the man asked again.

“A woman,” Jake said.

Jake realized that whoever this guy was had probably followed Christina here. There was no sake in lying about that anymore. What he had to do was come up with a convincing story that he would believe right now.

“And where is this woman?” asked the man.

“I don’t know,” Jake lied trying to sound convincing. “We have an arrangement. She uses my car at night and she pays me cash for no questions. She doesn’t have a driver’s license or something. I’m just trying to make some money. I’ve got to retire soon and I need the cash. I know it’s illegal, me not paying taxes or claiming it as income.”

“And she leaves the car here for you to retrieve in the morning?”

“Yes,” Jake said.

“Then where’s the money?” he asked.

“She pays at the beginning of each month,” said Jake.

“And where does she live?”

“I don’t know for sure, somewhere around here,” Jake said as he indicated the sparse neighborhood. “That’s all I know,” Jake pleaded trying to sound as if he had told him everything he knew. “Like I said, I need the money so I can retire. I know it’s wrong but I made some mistakes in my life from gambling. I owe people money so I saw a quick and easy way to make some cash.”

There was a deathly silence as Jake waited for the next question from the man. Finally, Jake felt the pressure of the gun barrel on the side of his head ease off as it was removed. In the next second, Jake felt himself breathe a little easier. He was glad he had been convincing enough and had made it.

“Aaaaahhh,” Jake screamed as the man grasped a handful of his hair and yanked his head back sharply followed by the icy cold sharpness of the knife at his throat followed by the swift motion of it digging in and slicing across his flesh.

The bright light from the rising sun quickly turned to gray and then to black as Jake slumped to the ground and quickly bled to death.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-S
EVEN

The man wiped his knife off on the back of Jake’s clothing. He moved it back and forth as if he was sharpening the blade on a stone. He would stop and look at it for a few moments then go back again. Finally the blade received his look of approval.

He folded and placed it in his inside jacket pocket. Then he removed a cell phone from his pocket and placed a call.

“Smith here, go ahead,” a voice answered.

“The situation has become interesting,” the man said.

“Oh how I love a mystery,” Smith answered, the humor clearly evident in his voice. “So enlighten me, what exactly is interesting about it?”

“It would appear that the woman that has been visiting Reese is involved somehow in all of this.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Smith.

“She’s hiding her location quite adeptly—she obviously does not want to be found. She had an associate that was covering for her.”

“Really—that is interesting. What’s the location?”

“Suffolk, an area called Driver, near an abandoned military base.”

“And Reese? Is he a player or a tool?”

“I’m not sure if he is aware of her actions or not. I have some other things to check out yet, but you may want to make plans to join me this evening. I think it may prove enlightening.”

“Yes, I shall,” Smith said, “But first, I need your assistance at a hotel here in Ocean View, a cleanup operation, one body.”

“That makes two,” the man said. “I have one to dispose of as well.”

“I’ll text message the address and details. I’m heading over to the base. If you need me before this evening, call me. Have a great day,” Smith said and hung up.

The man disconnected the call and placed the phone back into his pocket. He would have to move quickly now if he didn’t want his breakfast to turn into lunch with the added burden of another pickup. Apparently his boss had some entertainment last night. But he had expected as much because Mr. Smith was a busy man and when he got time to play—play he did. He wondered if it had been a man or woman this time.

He looked down at the body that lay on the gravel parking lot. His facial expression took on a look of disappointment with even a hint of resentment.

“You should have planned better—for your retirement,” he said as he pointed his index finger at Jake’s still body. Then he laughed, “You’re so full of shit. You were pretty good my deceased friend. I almost believed the part about you needing money. You…you’re good you, you’re very good,” he continued on imitating Robert De Niro’s voice and tone from a scene he remembered from a movie. De Niro had been an idol to him since the movie Taxi Driver where he played a psychotic in New York; killing low life scum and trying to make sense of it all.

He searched through Jake’s clothing finding a wallet and a knife in his back pocket. He placed the wallet in his own pocket and looked at the knife.

“This is rather nice,” he said as he moved the blade in and out of the sheath. “Yes, very nice.” He pocketed the knife and then looked at his watch.

“My, my, it’s getting late, places to go and things to do,” he said.

The man bent down and grabbed Jake’s body by the lapels of his jacket and dragged the body into the woods. When he found a suitable place off the main path, he dumped the body and covered it with debris. It could wait for a bit.

As he finished this task, he thought about how he wanted to have a huge breakfast. Eggs, toast, hash browns, pancakes…the whole works. After all, he’d earned it. He walked back to his own car and drove off in the direction where he remembered seeing an International House of Pancakes just off of Main Street in Suffolk.

He really loved IHOP’s pancakes.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-E
IGHT

From his house, Reese arrived on the base in less than thirty minutes. The mystery of the broken lock had already been filed away under ‘a trip to Lowes to get a new door knob’.

Upon entering the secure compound, he swung by to see if Commander Pattoon had come up with anything. He found him half asleep sitting in a high back chair; apparently he had spent the night in the office keeping tabs on the progress of the operation.

“Anything?” Reese asked loudly, with a slight hint of pleasure in his voice at waking the man given the phone call Pattoon had pulled on him the previous night.

“Er…no…nothing. The surveillance continues. We have eliminated maybe half of the possible places already.”

“Well we thought it might be a long shot,” Reese said. “Is there any other unusual data to look at?”

“Not beyond what was in yesterday’s folder,” said Pattoon.

Pattoon’s statement reminded Reese he had yet to look through the folder’s contents.

“Which reminds me,” Pattoon continued, “there was some extra data in there that didn’t belong. One of the techs dropped in an article that didn’t meet all the search criteria; it was a day or so too early to have been related.”

“Okay,” Reese said, “I’ll make sure I remove it.”

Reese left the control center and walked toward the office he was using. “Interesting night, Commander?” a voice from behind him said.

Reese knew the voice without turning to see who it was; it was his good friend Mr. Smith. “Fine, and yours?” asked Reese as he slowly turned to face the man.

“I had a nice relaxing evening,” Smith said in a voice that was overly happy. “I had a chance to work out some frustration. It’s amazing the clarity of mind one can have when it is freed from obstructions. No clutter of things to dwell on. It’s like the weather on the day after a hurricane; everything is so clear because it was all swept away. You should try it sometime.”

“Try what?” Reese asked. “Have a hurricane?”

“Funny. You’re a funny man Commander. Let me break it down for you. I was referring to working out your frustrations. It might work wonders for you and help you with those dreams you keep having.”

Reese felt immediate anger well up inside of him. He had suspected that they might be keeping an eye on him. However, this overt display was too much to swallow. He had to calm himself before he said or did anything he might regret.

“Maybe it’s the company you’ve been keeping,” Smith continued. “You might want to be more careful about who you choose to spend your time with.”

“Okay asshole,” said Reese. “That’s enough! So you’re keeping an eye on me; point made. Must be a cheap thrill for you huh?”

“You know,” Smith said, “I like a cheap thrill every once in a while. Kind of gets the old motor running at high speed.”

“I bet you do. Yes sir. The more cheap and perverted the better you like them.”

“Well enough about our personal lifestyles,” Smith began obviously moving on. “Maybe you and I can get together this evening? What do you say?”

“I’m not your type. I like women,” Reese said and walked away. He got three steps down the corridor and turned back. Mr. Smith was still standing there watching him. Reese smiled and then gave him the finger…with both hands.

Laughing, he quickly stepped into the office and closed the door behind him in the event that Mr. Smith wanted to continue the conversation—although he didn’t think so.

Although he was feeling that he had told Smith off in a colorful manner, the fact that the spooks knew he was having nightmares confirmed the suspicion that his house was not only under surveillance, but probably bugged as well. This meant that Smith was probably aware of his evening with Christina and that sent a chill down John‘s spine. They’d had a conversation about the existence of vampires. Shit, he cursed. He would have to warn her about this.

However, for the moment, there was nothing he could do about it. Until he was sure his house was clear of surveillance, he would insist that she meet him somewhere else. The thought that she might already have fallen under Smith’s eye struck Reese. He would have to talk about that tonight when they got together. For the moment, there was nothing else he could do about it.

He turned his attention to the folder on his desk. He needed to delve into this operation so that one way or the other it could be resolved and he could return his life to some form of normalcy. With Christina, that actually meant something good and he liked the feeling that came with the thought.

Reese opened the folder and began to peruse the documents. The headline of a newspaper article from the Virginian Pilot caught his attention. “Teenagers and Police Officer Disappear in Suffolk.” Reese checked the date. It was the day before the escape of the two girls. This must be the article that Pattoon had referred to earlier, but he was right, this was exactly what he would have looked for if it had occurred after the escape rather than before.