The List
Title: The List
Author: MMW
Disclaimer: See parts 1-5
Feedback: mmwert@yahoo.com
Part 11
JD paced the length of the office again. Checking his watch yet again, he
let out a huff of frustration when he noted only two minutes had passed. He had
called Chris thirty minutes ago, but it would take at least forty for the team
leader to reach the office, unless he broke more traffic laws than JD assumed
he would.
Maybe it would have been better to drive out to the ranch to give Chris the
news, he thought. No. He couldn’t do that. His friend who had developed the
decryption software had been able to recover most of the file, though God knew
how. Even though his friend had assured him the file could be put to a floppy,
the information it contained had JD too nervous to attempt anything like that.
Instead he had called Chris. Chris would know what to do.
JD sat down in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in
his hands. ‘How could something like this happen?’ he wondered. Yes, he knew
people could go bad, had even seen cops and agents taken down for it, but the
file he had read - The List... Never could he have imagined corruption on such
a grand scale. It was almost enough to make him lose his faith.
But even the number of names on ‘The List’ represented less than one percent
of all law enforcement and legal personnel, he reminded himself. The majority,
the vast majority of those working in the law professions were decent,
har-working and upright.
Standing and once more resuming his pacing of the office, JD felt his anger
rise. It was people like those on ‘The List’ that made the job difficult. It
was names like those on ‘The List’ that gave law enforcement officials a bad
name, not to mention idiots like that undermined the respect they all deserved.
People like those contained in ‘The List’ didn’t deserve to live with decent
folks, let alone work with them.
"Show me," Chris commanded, stepping into the office.
Startled out of his mental tirade, JD snapped his head around in surprise.
"Chris!" he cried. "Thank God," he whispered, hurrying over
to his PC as he began talking. "I was looking at Vin’s computer when I
noticed the last file he looked at was something called ‘The List’. The name
seemed familiar to me. Anyway, I wasn’t able to get any data about it off of
Vin’s computer and was about to give up when I remembered I’d seen it in a list
of recently opened documents on my PC as well. So, scanning my PC, I came up
with the file having recently been opened in a decryption program I’m testing
for a friend. With his help we were able to find out what the file was."
Looking into his leader’s impatient green eyes, he pulled his desk chair out
and indicated for Chris to sit.
Sitting in the seat, his eyes began to ravage the information on the screen.
Reading the introduction, he could feel his blood begin to boil. The
accusations being given in the note were vile and everything that made him
sick. Finishing the note and beginning to scan the list of names attached, he
allowed his fist to come crashing down on the desk, shaking everything on top.
JD felt himself calm slightly at this boss's reaction. Chris being angry was
never a good thing, but the blond's strong reaction made JD feel justified in
his own stong feelings.
"Travis knows," Chris growled, turning his burning green gaze upon
JD who could only nod. "Time for a talk with the boss," Team Seven's
leader continued, a feral grin gracing his face.
JD shuddered at the sight, very glad he wasn't AD Travis.
Chris rose out of JD's chair and walked to his office. If he noticed JD
following, he said nothing. Turning on a light, he sat behind his desk, booted
up his computer and called up Travis' home number. Punching the numbers into
the phone with enough visciousness to make JD wince, he waited for a few
minutes until the phone was answered.
"Good evening, Mrs. Travis," Chris began, using every bit of
resolve he could muster not to shout at the woman whom he had, in all
probability, just woken from a sound sleep. "This is Chris Larabee,"
he continued. "I was wondering if Orrin was available?"
JD, hearing only one side of the conversation suddenly got very nervous when
Chris' frown deepened and he leaned forward.
"Not in until very early Monday morning," Chris repeated.
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Travis. I apologize for calling at such a
late hour... You too... Good night." Hearing Mrs. Travis hang up, Chris
slammed the receiver on the phone, lifted the device and hurled it into the
wall on the other side of the room. Turning and seeing his anger mirrored in JD's
eyes, Chris blew out a breath and said, "He's out of touch until early
Monday. Wouldn't even tell his wife where he was going."
JD snorted his disbelief. Then, as if a thought had struck him he asked,
"Should we tell the others now?"
Chris paused and contemplated for a few minutes. "Not yet. We can wait
until Sunday. But I do want to speak to Vin and Ezra as soon as possible."
"Want me to ttry them now?" JD inquired.
Chris paused and checked his watch. It showed the time to be just past
eleven PM. Contemplating his two agents and thinking that if his suspicions
were correct, they probably needed all the rest and quiet they could get.
"No," Chris advised, pushing aside his own impatience and
frustration. Releasing a sigh, he continued, "Let them sleep. I'll call
them tomorrow morning and see if I can get them to talk. Go on home for
tonight, JD."
JD turned to leave, crestfallen that his big discovery would garner no
action until the following day. As he was just about to pass throught the door
he heard Chris' voice call, "Good work, JD."
Part 12
Ezra closed the passenger door to the jag as Vin settled in.
He felt worry and concern for his friend. Despite the assurances of the doctor
and Vin himself, Ezra could see how stiffly Vin moved and traces of pain on his
face. Combine that with the emotional strain of the evening… Making a decision,
Ezra slipped behind the wheel of the high-performance car. With a sideways
glance at his partner, he declared, “Vin, I want you to stay in my guest room
tonight so I can be nearby should you have need of me.” Not hearing a protest,
he turned to look at his passenger. Vin
sat with his head resting against the seat, eyes closed. His concern
increasing, Ezra called, “Vin?”
Vin’s eyes opened suddenly. Scanning the area, he relaxed
and replied, “Alright.”
Settling back in the driver’s seat and turning the ignition,
he released a sigh and headed home.
Walking into the apartment, the two tired agents headed
toward their respective bedrooms. Ezra, seeing his answering machine light
blinking, stopped to hear his messages. Hitting the play button he listened.
“Mr. Standish, this is Jeff Corbin. I have found myself in
possession of an extra invitation to the pre-opening review of the new art
expo. I was wondering if you would be interested in accompanying me? Please
call me at 555-9876. Thank you.”
Ezra sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had been
hoping for a quiet weekend at home, but the need to ingratiate himself with
those on The List overrode his normally reluctant nature. He was about to pick
up the phone and call Corbin back when the second message began.
“Hey, Ez!” the voice of Buck Willmington called, blanketing
the undercover agent with an unexpected warmth, a warmth he knew to be
friendship. “We’re getting together at Chris’ Sunday for food and to watch the
game. See you there around noon!”
Ezra let his head drop in defeat. He wouldn’t make it to
Sunday at Chris’. The sudden pain in
his heart served as a reminder of the cost of his current assignment.
Hearing a noise in the hall behind him, he turned and saw
his own feelings mirrored on the face of his guest. There were few things that
they enjoyed doing more than Sundays at Chris’ ranch, but they had more
important issues to consider. “Mr. Tanner,” he said, trying to break the dark
mood that seemed intent upon suffocating them. “I assumed you had retired for
the evening. Is there perhaps something I can do for you?” Ezra asked.
Vin nodded slowly at Ezra in acknowledgement not only of his
offer, but of his understanding that Ezra didn’t want to talk about the real
reason they both felt like roadkill. “Need water to take with my pills,” he
said simply.
“Ah,” Ezra replied. “Allow me to liberate a bottle of water
from the refrigerator for you, Mr. Tanner. Then I recommend we both abscond to
the land of nod that we might arise more fully vested of our senses and with a
hopefully new outlook up on this deplorable mess.”
A smile twitched at the corners of Vin’s mouth. “Hell, Ez,”
he teased. “Why don’t we just go sleep on it and see what come up with in the
morning.”
Ezra caught the twinkle in the blue eyes and gifted Vin with
a smile, knowing the Texan had understood every word. “Indeed, Mr. Tanner.
Indeed.” So saying, Ezra turned and retrieved a bottle of water that he passed to
his friend before they both retired to their separate rooms.
Rolling over onto his side and attempting to open an eye
wide enough to focus on the clock at his bedside, Ezra read the numbers three
times before fully processing that he was, indeed, awake at 7:30 on a Saturday
morning. Closing his eyes again, he once more heard the sound of a spoon being
dropped on the floor of the kitchen, a sound that had drawn him from a sound
sleep.
His sluggish mind ran through the previous night’s events.
It registered that he had come home with someone. Trying to focus on a face, he
quickly eliminated his usual female companions, noting the other side of the
bed hadn’t been slept on.
“Aw hell,” came the drawled curse from the kitchen as a bowl
went crashing to the floor.
Wincing at the sound, Ezra remembered. He and Vin had met
with Rollins and several others the previous night. Vin hadn’t been fairing
well, so Ezra had invited him to stay the night so he could keep a closer eye
on the Texan and ensure he took the medicine he was supposed to. The messages
left on his answering machine were the next thing to return to his conscious
mind. The messages he recalled elicited a deep sigh from the still tired man.
Deciding it was time to get up and discuss their plan of
action, Ezra threw the covers off of himself, firmly stating in his mind that
no human should ever be forced to get up at this ungodly hour, and prepared to
meet the day.
Walking into the kitchen, he found Vin seated at the
breakfast counter, a bowl of cereal before him. “Nodding a greeting,” he walked
over to the coffee maker, dreading the brew that existed. How one man could be
so accurate with a gun and yet miss the mark completely when it came to coffee
eluded him. Opening the cupboard and retrieving a mug, Ezra noted the damp
dishtowel in the sink. It still bore the traces of cereal pieces upon its
weave.
Seeing his friend not the towel, Vin shifted uncomfortably
in his seat, embarrassed by his own clumsiness. “Sorry ‘bout that, Ez,” he offered. “Sorta had some problems
holdin’ onta stuff this mornin’,” he admitted.
“Quite all right, Mr. Tanner, I assure you,” Ezra said,
waving off the apology. Reaching for the pot, he poured a cup of the brew into
his mug. Sniffing to better judge with what form of torture he was about to
inflict his taste buds, Ezra’s eyes opened slightly wider in surprise. “This
smells incredible,” he offered, turning toward his guest.
Vin smiled a crooked smile. “I can make good coffee,”
he said. “I only make it extra strong in the office to make sure I get some.”
Seeing a smile form on Ezra’s lips, he allowed his face to grow temporarily
serious. “Course, if’n ya tell anyone, I’ll have ta shoot ya,” he declared.
Not entirely successful in suppressing the grin on his own
face, Ezra assured, “Your secret is safe with me.”
Moving to retrieve his own bowl of cereal, it being far too
early in the morning for a real breakfast, he took the other seat at the
breakfast bar. “We have things to discuss,” he offered, not meeting the blue
eyes.
“We have ta tell ‘em we’re busy Sunday,” Vin agreed. “I hate
this,” he spat, dropping his spoon in his bowl.
“Mr. Larabee will figure it out,” Ezra tried to assure Vin.
“He better,” Vin replied, his face growing dark. “He better,
or Orin Travis is going to find out what Ranger training really means when this
is over.”
Now Ezra did meet the Texan’s eyes. Seeing the dangerous fire within them, he
nodded his agreement. “I think it best,” he began, checking his watch, “that we
inform Mr. Willmington of our unavailable status for tomorrow. And I feel it best we call now before he is
awake enough to argue.” He saw Vin nod
in agreement.
“Then we need to disappear for the rest of the day so they
can’t get a hold of us,” Vin suggested.
“A very good plan, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra agreed. “Perhaps
somewhere outside the service area of our cell phones?” he asked, raising an
eyebrow in question.
A grin spread over Vin’s face. “A very good plan, indeed,
Mr. Standish,” he offered.
Ten minutes later, the call made, the two headed out of the
condo and out of town.
Two hours later Chris dialed first Vin’s apartment and then
Ezra’s not receiving a response at either location, he tried their cell phones.
Receiving the message that they were both out of the service area, Larabee
cursed and slammed down his phone. “What the hell are you two up to?” he
wondered.
Part 13
Ezra pulled off to the side of the road and stared at his companion in stunned
silence, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief.
With a wry smile, Vin informed the undercover agent, "Ya look like a
fish outta water, Ez." Allowing the smile to bloom into a wide grin, he
started chuckling. "Ya act like ya’ve never been to an all-day rodeo
before," he stated mirthfully.
Ezra gathered himself together. Clearing his throat, he felt it best to
straighten his friend out on this point. "I assure you Mr. Tanner, when we
began our evasion this morning, I had a little spot in mind, a small resort an
acquaintance of mine…"
Cutting off Ezra’s explanation, Vin explained, "Ez, we’re in a dead
zone, they won’t find us here. We can blend in."
Ezra nearly choked. "Blend in?" he squeaked, his eyes wide in
disbelief. "Blend in?" he demanded. "Mr. Tanner, I have no idea
where you would have… how you could have ever come to the conclusion that
someone of my breeding and quality could ‘blend in’ at such an event."
Vin laughed out loud. "Aw, Ez. I’ve seen ya blend inta worse. ‘Sides,
ya might like it," he encouraged. Seeing the extreme doubt in his friend’s
eyes, Vin sighed. "I’ll spring fer lunch," he offered.
"Of hot dogs and fries and who knows what else?" Ezra looked in
disbelief. He watched as his friend turned toward the sign advertising the one-day
rodeo. He saw the longing in the emotive blue eyes and cursed the day he let
six men into his heart and life. Resigned, he shifted the Jag into drive and
said, "Very well, Mr. Tanner. We shall attempt this Rodeo. However, I do
not expect to find any pleasure in it."
Vin clapped Ezra on the shoulder, thankful that he would soon be out of the
car and in the fresh air. The Jaguar was very comfortable, but he was tired of
being trapped inside. "Won’t regret it, Ez," Vin promised.
"I already do, Mr. Tanner," Ezra stated dryly as he turned down
the dirt road that lead to the rodeo. "I already do."
As he pulled up to the entrance gate, Ezra scanned the area in front of him.
He saw what he had expected to – pickups, old cars, horse trailers old and new
– and then did a double take as he saw a nearly new Cadillac parked slightly
away from the other cars. Weaving his way across the lawn, he pulled the Jag
into a spot on the other side of the black car. He noted the presence of a
chauffeur. Puzzled he turned to Vin. Before he could ask the sharpshooter his
question, he noted the young man had already exited the car and stood with his
eyes closed, breathing in the outside air.
With a reluctant sigh and a heavy sense of dread, Ezra exited the car. As he
took his first breath of air, his nose twitched slightly. Though he had spent
his share of time around animals and even helped Chris on the ranch with the
horses, the change of odor from the processed monotony of the Jag to the
ever-changing breeze of the outside nearly sent his sense of smell into
overdrive.
"Well, Mr. Tanner," Ezra began. "Lead on."
Vin smiled, turning toward the entry. Waiting in line and paying both entry
fees, he easily navigated through the crowd toward the stands.
Ezra followed behind, cursing softly as the mass of humanity Vin had so
easily parted seemed to swarm like a mass of unrestrained roaches, blocking his
path, bumping into him and generally making his life miserable. Cursing the
Texan as he tried not to step in the gooey food messes or the slick animal
ones, he did his best to keep up with his friend. Finally Ezra found himself
seated next to Vin in the stands.
Vin had already bought a program and looked up from it as Ezra sat beside
him. "Where’d ya go, Ez?" he inquired, puzzled. "Thought y’se
right behind me."
Ezra leveled a cold gaze at him. "Mr. Tanner," he began before he
stopped, mouth open and decided there was no point in continuing. "Never
mind."
With a shrug, Vin began informing Ezra of what the morning would hold for
them, going into some detail about the skills needed for each event.
As the morning passed, Ezra discovered an admiration for the skill necessary
to execute the tasks at hand. He marveled at the rapport between horses and
riders, as well as the other competitors. Soon, however, he became less aware
of the events unfolding before him and more aware of the hunger gnawing in his
belly. "Mr. Tanner," he stated, catching Vin’s attention, "I do
believe I will take you up on your generous offer of lunch."
Vin smiled, stood and clapped Ezra on the shoulder. "Well, let’s go
then," he encouraged.
Making their way past the corral area where the barrel riders were preparing
for their competition, the two men approached the area where food was being
sold. Contrary to Ezra’s perception that the food would be inedible, he found
himself surprised at the quality and variety of food available. Neither man had
known there would also be a chili cook-off and a pie contest.
Satiated and happy, the men began their way back to their seats. As they
passed the corral, they heard the loud snapping of fire crackers. Out of the
corner of his eye, Vin saw a horse panic and begin to rear as the rider
struggled for control. Bolting into the corral, Vin made it to the woman just
as she lost her seat. Reaching out to catch her, Vin caught sight of Ezra as he
too reached the woman as she fell. Quickly moving away from the terrified
animal, Vin nodded to Ezra to take the woman.
Holding the terrified woman in his arm, Ezra began speaking soothing words
to her, intermixing questions regarding her health and well-being. While most
of his attention was focused upon the shaken woman, he watched out of the
corner of his eye as Vin approached the snorting, fearful horse, speaking
quietly to it. Within moments, Vin had hold of the bridal and was petting the
beast’s nose while he continued a soothing litany.
Both men turned as a voice behind them called out "Anna!" and a
man in grey suit pants and a white shirt ran over to the girl. "Anna, are
you alright?" the concerned man inquired.
Turning from the comforting arms of her rescuer, she replied, "Yes,
Papa, I am unhurt."
A few feet away Vin’s eyes widened as he finally saw the face of the woman
he and Ezra had helped. Quickly hiding his shock, he turned his attention back
to the horse. Though outwardly he appeared calm, Vin’s mind was spinning. Anna
was the woman who had passed him the diskette. That meant if she were still
here, then she was in danger. Closing his eyes briefly, he suppressed the sigh
of resignation; as if the case weren’t complicated enough, they now had a young
woman to rescue.
As the woman left his arms to speak to her father, Ezra had started to walk
toward Vin. He saw the momentary shock on his friend’s face and furrowed his brow
as to its source. Arriving beside his friend, he turned and looked in the
direction Vin’s eyes were trained. It took only a moment for his quick mind to
register his own shock at seeing the woman from the restaurant. Quietly he
said, "It would appear, Mr. Tanner, that our friend there has been unable
to ensure her emancipation which would explain the lack of corroborating
evidence. She is not yet safe."
As Vin and Ezra stood quietly watching the father and daughter, they noted
movement at the entry of the corral and looked over to see none other than the
girl’s uncle, Frederick Fellini walk into the corral. The two agents exchanged
a glance. In the few weeks since they had begun their investigation, they had
learned much about the man who headed perhaps the most intricate and powerful
arms smuggling ring in the nation.
"Anna!" he cried, walking up to his niece. "Are you all
right? We saw what happened," he said, embracing his reluctant niece.
"I’m fine, Uncle Frederick," she said without any warmth.
A flash of displeasure flared in Fellini’s eyes at the less than warm
response from his niece. Letting it pass for now, he turned to the two men
still standing by the horse. Walking over, he offered his hand.
"Gentlemen," he greeted, "I can not begin to thank you for your
quick and decisive actions. They certainly saved my niece from injury."
Vin looked down, embarrassed by the thanks. "Weren’t nothin’," he
offered quietly.
For his part, Ezra had seen the woman pale as she caught sight of her two
rescuers. Ezra only hoped she wouldn’t give anything away. He relaxed slightly
when he saw her regain her composure.
"I assure you, young man," Finelli said, "It is something.
There are very few men in my experience who would react as quickly or as
selflessly as the two of you have done." Pausing, he waited until Vin’s
eyes rose to meet his. Holding out his hand he said, "My name is Frederick
Fellini."
"Vin Tanner," the Texan said, taking the proffered hand.
"Ezra Standish," the Southerner replied as the hand was offered to
him.
Turning to his brother-in-law and his niece, Fellini motioned for them to
approach. "May I present my brother-in-law, Robert Haskell and his
daughter, Anna," Fellini said formally.
The two men first shook Haskell’s hand, Vin blushing at the emotion and
intensity of the man’s thanks. They then shook hands with Anna, being careful
not to reveal they knew who she was. They accepted her thanks as well.
"Papa," she said quietly, turning to her father. "I must
leave. I ride next."
"Are you sure," Haskell asked, his concern evident in his face and
voice.
Anna looked into her father’s eyes and nodded. "I need to, Papa,"
she explained.
With a sigh, he helped his daughter mount and then watched as she left.
Turning to leave, Ezra and Vin stopped as Fellini called their names.
Turning back to face the man who was the target of their investigation, the two
agents waited to find out what he needed from them.
"We are very thankful for your help tonight. I insist you come home
with us tonight and have dinner. Perhaps stay the night that we might repay you
for your kindness," he said. His tone of voice clearly indicated that
Frederick Fellini was not a man to be put off or disobeyed.
Exchanging a glance, knowing they didn’t really have a choice, they turned
back. "We would be honored to join you this evening, Mr. Fellini,"
Ezra replied.
"Good! Good," Fellini smiled. "Now you will join me as we go
to watch my niece and the rest of the rodeo." Draping an arm over the
shoulders of each of the men, he began leading them toward the stands. "I
fear we must stay to the end since I will be presenting the prizes, but in my
experience, the rodeo is a most relaxing distraction."
The men headed out toward the stands.
Part 14
Buck got out of his truck, closed the door behind him and headed for the
barn, knowing that would be where he could find Chris. The two men had agreed
to meet at the ranch today to begin doing repairs needed after the harsh
winter. "Hey, Chris!" he called in greeting as he entered the warm
barn.
Chris stood brushing Pony, eyes focused somewhere in the distance,
completely unaware of his surroundings. He had tried both Vin and Ezra all
morning and had been unable to reach either of them. The need to speak to the
two men, to find out the truth about their actions, their words, ate at him.
The fact that they had disappeared caused a battle between anger and worry to
rage within the blond. His mind refused to rest and began playing worst case
scenarios.
"Hey!" Buck said, waving a hand before Chris’s eyes. "Anyone
home?"
"Huh?" Chris asked, snapping out of his daze. "Buck?" he
asked confused.
A smile appeared on Buck’s face. Tapping his friend lightly on the side of
the head, he asked, "Anyone home today, Stud?"
Shaking his head to clear away the last remnants of his daze, Chris smiled
up at his friend. "Sorry, Buck," he apologized. "Just a lot on
my mind."
The smile disappeared as Buck nodded. "Vin and Ezra."
Chris’ face became serious. "Vin and Ezra," he confirmed. "JD
came across what we think is the reason for all this. Now I can’t get a hold of
either of them."
Buck’s eyes widened, a hurt expression appeared on his face. "You found
out and you didn’t tell me?" Buck accused. "God, Chris," he
berated, "you think you’re the only one worried about them boys? You think
you own the market on concern? Why the Hell didn’t you call us?"
Chris was about to respond in anger when he caught sight of the genuine pain
and fear in his oldest friend’s eyes. Releasing a heavy sigh, he apologized.
"I"m sorry, Buck. But we can’t be sure that the file we found is the
motivation. I couldn’t get a hold of Travis and haven’t been able to get a hold
of either of the other two all day. I'm worried. What if something happened to
them?"
Buck took a deep breath and released it. "We should call the rest of
the boys and get together. Then you can catch us all up at once," he
suggested.
Chris nodded and stood. It looked like the repairs would wait a little while
longer. "I wanted to confront them with the information and find out if it
was true first," he explained. "But I guess we’ll have to wait until
we see them tomorrow."
Buck stopped and winced. "Ah, geeze, Chris," he lamented. "I
forgot to tell you. They won’t be here tomorrow."
"What?" Chris growled, spinning to face his friend, his glare
falling full upon the mustached man.
Resisting the urge to run, Buck held up his hands and explained, "They
left a message on my machine this morning, or Ez did. He said he and Vin were
unavailable this weekend. He sent his regrets and said they’d see us in the
office on Monday."
"Damn!" Chris shouted. Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked up
at Buck. "Alright," he said, switching into command mode. "Call
the boys and get them out here. We’re going to go with the assumption that what
JD discovered is really the problem. I want to start our own investigation
today. I also want to see if we can track down their movements over the past
few days. This has got to end."
Buck offered up a smile, a gleam in his eye. "Now you’re talkin’,
Stud!" he exclaimed.
Within an hour and a half, the remaining three members of Team Seven
gathered at the ranch. Chris and Buck had taken the time while waiting for
everyone to set up a command center of sorts in the living room. Drinks and
snacks were ready to go. Both Chris’ desktop and laptop had been set up with
connections to the internet. The printer sat ready ready. Paper and pens were
arranged around the room.
When they were all gathered, Chris handed JD the diskette and let him start
the briefing.
Popping the diskette into the drive, JD quickly brought up the file. "I
was looking through Vin’s computer when I came across a reference to a file
called 'The List'. It had been on a floppy and I was unable to retrieve any
data about it. It struck me as odd, but it was the only file that seemed to fit
the parameters of what we were searching for. Anyway, it rang a bell and I
looked at my own computer. Sure enough, they had put the diskette into my
computer as well. The only reason I could think of that they would do that
would be to use the decryption software I’ve been testing for a friend. So,
calling my friend, we worked through the program and files and came up with
this," he said, nodding toward the screen.
Approaching the screen, the three men began reading. After a few minutes,
they sought their chairs. Chris and JD gave them a few minutes to process the
information, familiar with the stunned state in which it left the reader.
Nathan broke out of his stupor first. "But how? I mean... Those
names... Those people... They can’t all..." he stammered, looking to Chris
for confirmation that what he’d read was nothing more than an elaborate hoax.
"Don’t know, Nate," the blond offered quietly. "That’s what
we need to try and find out." Looking each of the other four men in the
eye, he set his jaw and his eyes grew hard. "If Ez and Vin are working
this on their own, they could be in a lot of danger." His anger flared.
Just the thought of his two friends facing the kind of danger involved made his
blood boil. The fact that he and the rest of the team had been kept in the dark
made him see red. "Travis was wrong not to tell us about this. He was
wrong to put Vin and Ezra’s lives in danger without warning. If anything
happens to them..." Chris trailed off and he felt Bucks hand on his
shoulder.
"What do you want us to do, Chris?" Buck asked.
Looking once more into they eyes of each man in the room, he said, "I
want to find out if this is true or not. I want to know how much of the
information we can verify." He saw looks of determination on each face.
"But we have to be careful and not leave any trace of what we’re
doing," he warned. "Vin and Ezra’s lives might depend on it." He
waited until he received nods of agreement from everyone. "We know some of
the people on that list, and we know some of them to be dangerous. Let’s get
started. We’ll break in a few hours and compare notes."
Three hours later the men once more sat around the table, their faces grim.
Nodding toward Josiah he asked, "What did you find?"
Josiah picked up his notes. He didn’t need to reference them, but his rising
anger needed a focus and crushing the papers holding his notes would be far
less harmful than any other course. "Everything I looked at checked
out," he said.
"Nate?" Chris asked.
"Same," came the short reply.
"Buck?" Chris queried.
"All of it, Chris," the lady’s man said. "Every last little
damn bit of it is true."
"Same here," JD injected not waiting to be called on.
Chris nodded. He felt his chest constrict slightly as he realized his fears
were coming true. Where are you boys? he wondered again of Ezra and Vin.
You better make it in Monday in one piece or else.
"What now, Chris," JD asked, anxious to do something.
"We wait," came the response. Chris rose and moved to the window,
staring out of it.
"Wait?" JD cried, incredulous. "Vin and Ez are out there
somewhere and we wait?"
"JD, son," Josiah soothed. "We don’t know what their plan is.
We don’t know what they’re doing. Doing anything more than what we’ve done
could put them in even more danger."
JD sat, fuming. He knew Josiah was right, but it just wasn’t in him to sit
by passively when his friends could be in danger. "So what are we going to
do in the meantime?" he demanded.
"Fence needs mending," Buck said quietly.
The others nodded. If they couldn’t help their friends, at least they could
put their frustrated energy to use in finishing the repairs.
Part 15
The rodeo over, Vin and Ezra waited for
Fellini to return to them. They would have discussed the upcoming evening with
each other, but the presence of Anna, her father and one of the bodyguards made
talking impossible. As the situation stood, neither Ezra nor Vin could relax.
Given the rigid form of the woman next her father, they knew it would be a
difficult evening for her as well.
“Wonderful day, was it not?” the beaming
Fellini asked, approaching the silent group.
“Yes, indeed, Frederick,” Haskell replied,
showing his fear and subservience to his brother-in-law yet again.
“And what did you gentlemen think?” he
inquired of the two agents.
“Not bad,” Vin offered knowingly. “Seen some better, seen some worse.”
Fellini eyed Vin carefully and nodded before
turning to Ezra. “And you Mr. Standish? What did you think of my little rodeo?”
Ezra smiled, only the truth would be needed
here. “I must admit to having never imagined attending such an event,” he
began, “however, I do believe this experience has changed my opinion.”
Fellini smiled broadly and slapped the
Southerner on the back. “Good, good,” he laughed. “Come, let us leave and
return to the house. I know my chef will have a fine feast awaiting us.” Then turning, he lead the way toward the
parking area.
As the group approached the area where the
Jag and Cadillac were parked, Fellini paused momentarily, uttering a gasp of
appreciation before walking over to Ezra’s car. Scrutinizing the vehicle as he
walked around it, Ezra approached and stood slightly off to the side. “This,”
Fellini uttered reverently, “is a work of art. And I can see its owner
appreciates the better things of life.”
“Why thank you Mr. Fellini,” Ezra responded,
“I do.”
Fellini looked at Ezra, eyebrows raised.
“This is your car, Mr. Standish?” he inquired, reassessing his opinion of the
man. A smile once more slipped across his face, reminding Ezra of a cobra’s
smile before it strikes. “We may have a few things to discuss tonight. I myself
have several cars I think you will appreciate. Would you mind if I drove it?”
he inquired.
Ezra stiffened. It had taken him a very long
time to trust Vin with his car, handing the keys off to a stranger did not sit
well. Trying to think of a graceful way to decline, Fellini laughed again. “My
apologies, Mr. Standish. That request was unfair of me. I will retract my
question, though I believe I would enjoy a ride in such a fine example of man’s
ingenuity.”
“As you wish, Mr. Fellini,” Ezra responded
with a smile, relief flooding his system. He also made a mental note to be
careful around the man. Fellini was very perceptive.
Looking at the remainder of the group,
Fellini stated, “Mr. Tanner, it would be an honor if you would join us. Anna
and Robert and the others will ride in the Cadillac and the pickup.” Then, opening the passenger side door, which
Ezra had unlocked remotely, he slipped into the Jag. Exchanging a quick glance,
Vin and Ezra followed suit, Ezra sliding behind the wheel, Vin into the back
seat.
As they approached the road, Ezra turned
according to Fellini’s directions. “So, what do you gentlemen do for a living?”
Fellini asked, trying to find out more about these men. They had impressed him
with their quick response to a crisis and their behavior afterward. He felt
relaxed with Ezra with whom he could discuss the finer things of life. The
Southerner had quickly impressed Fellini with this gentleman ways and obvious
education. As for Vin, he enjoyed the blunt honesty and forthrightness of the
man who still managed to convey respect in his words. Fellini was a man who found himself constantly surrounded by
those willing to bend to his opinion; there was a danger and solidness to the
Texan that intrigued him.
“We are agents with the Bureau of Alcohol,
Tobacco and Firearms,” replied Ezra.
Fellini started in surprise. “The ATF,” he
said appraisingly. “Well, that would certainly explain your quick response and
cool heads in light of my niece’s situation.” He quickly ran through the names
of the people in his organization to see whom he had at the Denver ATF. Depending on how things went tonight, these
two might be worthwhile additions to his organization. “And what do you do with the ATF?”
“We’re field agents,” Tanner responded, well
aware of the danger of giving too much information to the man. Besides, he
figured, if he and Ezra had just stumbled upon the man on their own, instead of
knowing who he was, they would have offered no more information.
Fellini smiled at the answer. It was exactly
what he had expected, something specific enough to satisfy the casual question,
yet vague enough to protect themselves. Most likely, he determined, the pair
worked undercover together. After all, it was obvious to him that they were
comfortable with each other and knew where the other man would be, where they
were expected to be. “It must be fascinating work,” he observed.
“It has its moments,” Vin replied.
“Indeed, Mr. Tanner,” Ezra chimed in. “It
does have its moments. And you, Mr. Fellini,” Ezra inquired, “what is it you
do?”
Fellini’s smile grew. He could play the game
as well as anyone. “I’m a businessman,” he replied.
“Looks like ya do right well for yourself,”
Vin stated.
Laughing, the businessman nodded, “Indeed I
do Mr. Tanner. Indeed I do.” Indicating
another turn, he continued, “There are problems I deal with everyday, and
solutions I need to find. That’s what I do mostly in my businesses, I find
solutions to very large problems.”
Ezra met Vin’s eyes in the rear view mirror.
“What kind o’ large problems, Mr. Fellini,” Vin asked.
Turning to look at the Texan in the back
seat, a sly smile curved Fellini’s lips. “Perhaps we can discuss that after
dinner over some brandy, “ he replied. “I think you gentlemen might be
interested in some aspects of my business.” Seeing both men nod, he indicated
another turn. Five minutes later he told Ezra to pull into a drive and before a
large, ornate wrought iron gate bearing a family coat of arms done in gold.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Fellini said, nodding to the guard to let them
in.
The drive up to the mansion proved a
breathtaking experience. The lawn and landscaping bespoke man’s vision of nature’s
beauty while the vista of mountains in the background contrasted the effect
with the raw power and majesty of the Earth. For several minutes the drive up
to the house left the traveler lost in the wonders of nature. Rounding a bend
in the road, the traveler soon found himself lost in the wonders of man’s
architecture.
The house itself was beautiful. It put to
shame the vaunted mansions of Newport and could only be described as a building
on the same level as the finer palaces of Europe and Asia. The stonework alone
would take days to review. Looking
beyond the sweeping marble stairway that led to enormous carved walnut doors,
one could only gasp at the sheer size of the building and number of windows.
“Could house an army in there,” Vin observed quietly,
not realizing he’d spoken his thoughts aloud.
“Yes you could, Mr. Tanner,” Fellini agreed.
“An army of servants at least,” he finished, looking very much as if he were a
cat playing with a mouse.
“You home is remarkable,” Ezra said, trying
to catch his breath. He had seen some beautiful homes in his time. He had even
stayed in some beautiful old plantation homes with relatives. None of that experience prepared him for the
palace he found himself approaching. Chastising himself for his lack of aplomb,
Ezra tried to recover by asking, “Did you build this yourself, Mr. Fellini, or
was it moved here from somewhere?”
“That, Mr. Standish, is an interesting story
and one I would be most willing to tell you. First, however, if you would park
your car over there, we can actually enter the house so you might better
appreciate the wonder that it is,” he said.
Man sure does love his house, Vin thought to himself following Fellini to
the front door which was opened just prior to their arrival by a butler.
Shaking his head, Vin followed the other two inside.
The tour and dinner completed, Mr. Fellini
dismissed his niece and brother-in-law, as well as Ezra and Vin’s protest that
they needed to leave soon and cease trespassing on Fellini’s good will, and led
the two agents into the library. Vin selected an oversized leather chair near
the open window while Ezra took one further in the room. Fellini shifted
another chair slightly and sat, indicating for the butler to bring over the brandy.
Pouring out and serving his guests, Frederick Fellini settled back in his chair
and looked at the two young men before him. “So tell me,” he demanded, “how do
you really enjoy working for the ATF?”
Vin shrugged. “’S OK, I suppose. Pay ain’t
much and hours suck, but it keeps ya busy.”
Ezra allowed a look of disgust to cross his
face. “I am a gentleman, sir,” he began, “and as such I detest having to work,
yet in today’s world, it is a necessity to do so. I, too, feel as Mr. Tanner
does. The pay is deplorable, the hours ungodly and the only thing to be said
for the paperwork is that it keeps the paper mills open and does help pass the
time.”
Fellini smiled at their responses, seeing
possibilities. “But isn’t the work worthwhile?” he asked, trying to find the
truth from the men.
“Mr. Fellini,” Ezra said, setting his brandy
glass carefully on the table next to him before folding his hands in his lap
and staring directly at the man. “The end result is rarely satisfying or worth
the time and trouble we have put into it. No sooner do we finish the paperwork
and spend an inhuman amount of time in reviews and in court, than the
miscreants in question are returned to civilization at large and resume their
old ways. I do believe we have arrested some of the same criminals several
times. Is that not so, Mr. Tanner?”
Vin snorted softly. “Hell, Ez, might’s well
install a revolvin’ door in that jail. Onliest ones that don’t come back are
the ones ‘at wind up dead.”
Inwardly, Fellini felt himself warm toward
the men, wondering if they even suspected how close they came to revealing what
he wanted to know most, if the two of them were approachable. The more time he
spent with the men, the more he liked them, and there were not many people in
this world Frederick Fellini liked.
Ezra, sensing Vin’s discomfort with the topic
at hand, shifted it to more neutral ground by asking about the painting hanging
over the fireplace. Conversation
remained sociable as the night progressed. A brief but extremely polite
argument occurred around Eleven PM when Vin suggested he and Ezra leave. The
issue met its resolution when Frederick, as he insisted they call him, offered
not only two of the more magnificent bedrooms, but assured both men he would
have clean, new clothes waiting for them the next morning. Citing the long
drive back to Denver proved the winning argument. Vin was exhausted, his back
was hurting, the sharp pain near his shoulder blade that had made it so hard to
hold onto anything that morning had remerged with reinforcement. Ezra read the
exhaustion in his friend’s face and relented.
Conversation continued along what Ezra felt
were interesting lines when Frederick suddenly asked, “What do you consider the
greatest of society’s ills?”
Taken aback by the question, neither man was
able to respond for several minutes. Exchanging a glance with Vin, Ezra began,
“I fear this is not a topic to which I dedicate much time or reflection.
Certainly I am aware of the problems in society, however, I do not believe I
could narrow it down to just one. There are the throwaways of society that
drain those few worthy enough to rise above their lowered circumstance.
Certainly the plague of diseases and drug addictions must rank in there.” Ezra
trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
Turning his attention to Vin, Frederick
waited for his response.
Vin looked the man in the eye and said
bluntly, “Them what deserves don’t always get.” Reading the satisfied gleam in
Fellini’s eyes as well as the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth, Vin
knew he’d answered the question correctly. He only wondered if Frederick had
any idea that Vin’s idea of those that deserve and Fellini’s own were
diametrically opposed.
Leaning back slightly and folding his hands
over his stomach, Fellini smiled at the two men and said, “There are several
interesting theories and ideas out there today that I find interesting.
Listening to both of you, I could say that boiled down to its essence both of
you clearly see undesirable elements of society. These elements were once
manageable, but now, due to the extreme population explosion, have expanded far
beyond what anyone could reasonably consider acceptable.”
Seeing he had the agents’ undivided
attention, he continued, “Overpopulation is the problem, gentlemen. There are
just too many people on the planet Earth. If there were fewer people, then we
wouldn’t have most of the problems we do. With fewer people, there would be
less need for burning the rainforests. With fewer people, there would be less
spread and mutation of disease. With fewer people, human society would evolve
to levels only dreamed of.”
“A fascinating theory,” Ezra commented,
hiding his revulsion of where he saw this conversation headed.
Vin eyed the businessman warily. “How many
fewer,” he queried.
Evaluating the mood of the two men, Fellini
was pleased with what he saw. “A reduction by two thirds would be ideal, though
a reduction by half would be acceptable,” he stated.
Vin nearly choked on the thought that his man
wanted to wipe out two thirds of the world’s population. Ezra swallowed his
horror and asked, “But how would one accomplish such a feat? In past ages,
disease, war, famine and natural disasters helped ensure a reasonable
population. Now, we have overcome most of these maladies. So, how do you
recommend we obtain this acceptable level of habitation?”
Fellini leaned forward, very much interested
in the conversation and excited by the open and interested response of the two
men. “There are many ways we could assist in this,” Fellini explained, “of
course, perhaps the most appropriate would be to allow the undesirable elements
to eliminate themselves. Such a measure would require little encouragement,
though I fear, given your profession, both of you would object to my first
theory.”
“And what’s that?” Vin managed to ask without
growling in anger and disgust.
“Weapons,” Fellini explained. “We allow more
weapons to flood the streets. That way the sewage that is dragging down the
human race and destroying our world can eliminate itself. And those that
survive would obviously be nothing more than the victims of unfortunate
circumstances and welcomed into true civilization. Those others who are
unworthy and live among us could be eliminated through other means”
Ezra swallowed the bile that threatened him.
Vin bit his tongue to keep himself from telling Frederick exactly what he
thought of that plan. The man couldn’t know that Vin was one of those
considered sewage. Faces of the good people he’d known while growing up on the streets,
while living in Purgatorio that had passed away due to the violence his host
now promoted flashed before his eyes.
Disgust for Fellini nearly consumed the Texan, but his professionalism
quickly reigned in his more destructive feelings and he managed a slow nod of
agreement.
Just then the clock struck midnight. Shifting
his gaze to the clock, Ezra smiled politely at his host. “This is a most
fascinating discussion, Mr. Fellini… Frederick, however, I fear it has been a
long day and Mr. Tanner and I will be unable to provide an appropriate audience
for you just now. Might we retire for the evening and continue this discussion
in the morning?” Ezra asked.
“Of course,” Frederick said, looking every
ounce like a cat playing with a mouse. He had them, or would soon enough. These
men would make fine additions to his organization. Rising from his chair, he
pulled the cord that would summon the butler. Waiting for his servant to
arrive, Fellini bid them good night and departed.
Two very disturbed ATF agents were led to
luxurious bedrooms that did little other than turn their stomachs
