Sweet Dreams (15 page)

Geoff opened the door, reached in the glove compartment, and pulled out a large phone with a thick foldout antenna. Di-aling a few numbers, he handed the phone to Kirk. "Just dial your number with area code, and then push this button." He pointed to a green button up near the top of the phone. Thanking him, Kirk walked over a few feet away so he would be out of earshot of his new friend. The phone rang two times before his old boss answered. Jacob C. Michelson was a veteran in the DPD; he was pushing thirty years of service, and his attitude showed every year of miserable service. Kirk waited a few seconds before answering.

"Hi, Chief." He waited for a response.

"Who is this? Speak up, son. Who is this?" The chief's voice was firm and commanding. His years of being in charge made him think he was the boss in every situation.

"It's me, Chief...Kirk, Kirk Weston," Kirk could hear Jacob gasp, and then recover.

"Kirk...hot spicy wings, we thought you were dead. Where are you, son? What are you doing?" Kirk butted in, knowing that his boss would drown him in questions if he let him continue.

"I'm okay, but I need some help, I was kidnapped but I got out, and now I'm stuck in a little town some where in the Middle East." Kirk waited for it.

"What!? Who took you? You better tell me what the fart is going on...Weston, I mean it!"

"Yes, sir, I'll tell you everything. Just get me home!"

"All right, I'll make arrangements, but you need to get to an airport. Weston, you had better get out of there, and quick. There is some kind of wacky crap going down over there...no matter, call me when you are at an airport and I'll get you home." Kirk agreed and hung up the phone.

Geoff was munching on a Power Bar and sitting on the

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hood of the Jeep. He looked like a caveman who just found a cool new stick as he examined each bite before he ate it.

"Hey, thanks for letting me use your phone." Kirk handed it back and gave Geoff a half smile.

"No worries, it's not mine anyway. The Magazine pays for it, so you got a hold of your friend?"

"Yeah, now I've got to get to an airport. You know where the closest one is?"

"Sure. It is about one hundred miles that way." He pointed off to the east with his power bar still in his hand.

"Crap! One hundred miles!" Kirk pounded the hood of the Jeep in frustration.

"Tell you what, I am just about finished up here with the photos I need. I'll drive you on one condition,"

"What's that?"

"You let me buy you some shoes!" Geoff held out his hand with a wide grin spread across his face.

Kirk managed a smile and took his hand, shaking it with all the strength he could muster. "Thanks a bunch, man, you have no idea." Kirk, for the first time in a long time, felt something. He hadn't met a decent person in so long; he didn't know how to respond...but to just say thanks. ________________________________________

MARK RUSHED INTO HIS apartment without even closing the front door behind him. The disc he held in hand had video from the Super Mart surveillance cameras. Throwing the car keys on the coffee table, he leaned down, and pushed the DVD

into the player. The TV turned blue with a Sony logo on the screen as it loaded.

Mark held his breath, not knowing what he would see; he didn't even know what he expected to see on the video. As the DVD started to play, the screen turned black, and then fuzzed a little before it cleared up.

The screen then split up into four separate boxes, each showing a different part of the store. It was the Super Mart; he could see the sign up on the wall behind the meat racks, on the screen in the upper left hand corner. Mark's heart started to pound faster, he looked at the date and time on the bottom of the screen, and it read nine a.m.

That is about three hours before the explosion,
Mark said to himself. He felt a pang of excitement and he watched with feverish anticipation even though he didn't know what he was going to see. The thought of watching his wife and daughter die right before his eyes did not cross his mind. One of the views was of the front door, and the other one of the aisles, and one of the stockrooms filled with pallets that stood shrink-wrapped and stacked on twenty-foot tall racks. The views rotated as the camera turned a hundred and eighty degrees, back and forth.

What am I supposed to see? Mark wondered. He sat on the edge of the small coffee table that sat in front of the couch. He leaned over and stared at the screen; he saw people walking around doing their shopping, and as far as he could tell, everything looked normal, but....

"Wait...what's this?" Mark paused the DVD and the screens froze. Up in the right-hand display he saw someone who looked familiar.
Where had he seen that kid before?

Then he remembered, it was the man he saw running for his life just before the building was exploded!

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Mark hit the play button, and watched the guy wander around the store, he looked left and right as if he was nervous and distracted. The kid looked to be in his late teens, maybe twenty, with dark brown hair and thick eyebrows. Mark was fixed on this kid who seemed to be looking for something...he picked up boxes of cereal and cans of chili like he expected to find some hidden treasure.

Looking at the time at the bottom of the screen, it read eleven a.m. That was forty-five minutes before the bombing. The dark-haired young man didn't seem to be doing anything exciting; he picked up a few other things, then walked out the front door.

"That can't be right, he was there, and I saw him run from the building!" Mark scanned the screen, looking for any sign of the suspicious man who apparently left the building. Nothing!

Pausing the video, Mark closed his eyes, trying to clear his head. He needed to calm down and think, this was the right day from the date, and times he knew this was the proof he needed to reopen the case. He breathed in deep as he scooted off the coffee table and sat on the floor.

The video started back up, and thirty minutes went by in real time as Mark sat, trying to scan every split screen for anything out of the ordinary. So far, nothing, except the young man who had left the store and had not returned which made Mark nervous.

Then, as if he was giving a cue to play a part in a sick movie, the young man entered the store with a determined look on his face. Mark jumped to his knees as he watched, and this time, the man seemed like he had a purpose, walking through the aisles toward the middle of the store in smooth strides as if he knew exactly where he was going.

Mark slowed down the video as he watched to see where the guy was going...then he lost him! Mark frantically scanned each camera view trying to see where he went.
There!

He came into view in the soup aisle when the camera rotated, and then he would lose him again as the camera panned back and forth.

The dark coat looked a little bulkier than when the kid was in the store the last time...or Mark just didn't notice the bulge. Either way, he could tell that this guy had something hidden in his coat.

The store had round steel pillars every forty feet; on most of them, you could find a courtesy phone or a fire extinguisher. He looked at the young man grab a phone on one of the pillars in the center of the store near a stand filled with red Gatorade. He talked into the receiver and looked around nervously like a scared rabbit. Then, without warning, he pulled out a phone from his jacket and switched it out with the one he was talking on! Mark backed up the video, to see what had just happened. A sick feeling came over him as he started to see what was going on.

Looking closer, he saw that this kid was not talking on the phone; he was undoing the clips that held it in place. Like any magic trick, he used the skill of diversion, but this one beat them all. As he switched phones, he slipped the old one on a rack behind him and covered it with bags of brown sugar. Someone walked by and gave him a sideways glance, but then moved on without giving him another thought. Mark's eyes widened as he saw the dark haired kid dial the phone, but

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he dialed way too many numbers to be calling someone. The camera rotated again, leaving Mark waiting to see what was going to happen next. Mark didn't need to see what was going to happen, he knew, he was there and in his heart he still held the scars to prove it.

As the camera panned back, Mark saw the kid hang up the phone, and then with his index finger, he pushed the red light on the top of the phone and bolted toward the door. He ran into an old woman and almost lost his balance, but managed to stay on his feet. The old gray haired woman hit the floor with a thud and started yelling at him as he jumped past her and headed toward the exit. The camera rotated again, and Mark found the front door camera and watched as the frightened man ran right past...K and Sam. They walked through the sliding doors and into the store, holding hands as they went!

The color from Mark's face left him as he dropped his head into his hands. He knew what was going to happen, and he knew that there wasn't anything he could do about it! This was no accident... "
No Accident!"
The note...the note he got a year ago! His heart went into his throat as he saw the bright flash of light as the bomb exploded, and the screen flickered and went black.

Mark started weeping uncontrollably as he watched his family die right in front of his eyes. His head throbbed in pain and he collapsed and curled up on the floor and shook with grief.

The sound of a man's voice brought Mark's head up with a snap. Eyes filled with tears, he saw an older man sitting in a big black executive chair. The office behind the man had large oak bookshelves and they had books filling them in every shape and size, there had to be thousands of them. He had kind eyes and a gray beard trimmed to perfection, everything about the older man spoke of refinement and wealth.

"Mark, I know that right now you are hurting and confused, but I am here to help you. My name is not important at this time; all you need to know is that I am a friend."

Mark tried to pause the machine, but it would not work, his remote seemed to be not working. He tried the buttons on the DVD player, but nothing worked.

"Mark, I am truly sorry for your loss, but we felt that you needed to know the truth. This was not an accident, as you just saw. I need you to listen to what I am going to tell you because you will only get one chance to hear what I am about to tell you." The man leaned forward in his chair and took off his glasses as he went on.

"I can't help you in what you must do next, Mark. All I can do is point you in the right direction, and the rest is up to you. This crime is more than what it looks like on the surface, if you want the truth, you need to find Pat Rotter. You need to do this alone. Do not go to the police, we do not know how far this goes, and for your safety and for ours, you will need to keep them out of it. Now I must go, remember to find Pat Rotter, he can tell you everything you need to know. And remember that justice will prevail!"

Mark stared at the screen as it went black, and his mind raced with terrible thoughts as he went through everything he just heard. Did the police know it was a bomb? They told everyone it was a gas line.
All the families that this affected
and the police did not tell anyone the truth.
Mark had so many feelings rushing over him, he didn't

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know if he should be sad or angry or if he should just scream!

What was going on?

"Mark...are you okay?" Maria must have come in the front door that Mark had left open. She looked a little scared when she saw Mark's eyes red from crying and him sitting in front of a black fuzz filled screen.

"Maria...uh...I'm okay. I just..." He couldn't hold on any longer and he desperately wanted to talk to someone, anyone! Mark burst into tears as he collapsed onto the couch, and began to sob. Maria rushed over and wrapped her arms around him as he wept.

"Mark, honey, its okay, just let it out." She did not know what to do; Mark was always in control of his emotions and so level headed even after everything he had gone through. As he cried into Maria's shoulder, he thought how stupid she must think he is, but he didn't care. He had just relived his wife and child dying again, to top it off, this was not some random act of terror, and as far as he knew, the police could be in on it... The snow outside Mark's apartment let up for the time being, with a cold chill filling the air in its place. It was almost Christmas in the City and millions of Christmas lights sparkled with hope and joy. All around him, children, and their families got ready for bed, in hopes that Santa would pay them a visit tonight.

Maria held her friend in her arms as he poured out his heart to her all over her new dress, but that was okay. She did not want to be anywhere else on this night. Mark needed her tonight and she was where exactly where she wanted to be. ________________________________________

THE JEEP MADE A cloud of dust as it sped through the desert like a cheetah on the run. Kirk had his eyes closed as he tried to get some sleep; he was beat from his long battle with the desert sun, and it was late afternoon before they left the little run-down town. His companion insisted on getting him a pair of shoes, and then gave him a clean shirt and a pair of pants too.

Kirk asked where they were going, and Geoff responded, saying they were going to Dubai, or rather the airport in Dubai. A pothole made the Jeep jerk as they made it onto a paved road and Kirk woke up to see a few other cars on the road. This comforted him a little; at least he was heading back to civilization.

"You made a go at the sleeping thing," Geoff said. "You must have been exhausted to sleep through a ride like the one we just had." He smiled in his goofy way and the wind made his hair blow all over his face.

Kirk rubbed his eyes, and his long beard and hair flew in his face as well. He was sure that he was a sight and he was sure he would have to keep away from children to keep from scaring them. "Yeah, I could sleep for about a year just to catch up. This Jeep isn't too bad compared to what I have been sleeping on."