This experiment could have been a great experience for everyone involved, he thought. The organizers had given thousands of people an opportunity to have a life they couldn’t before. People who once lived in trailers and apartments now had homes to call their own. They had yards and fences and nice cars. If they’d played their cards right they could have perpetual wealth.
But then there were people who had to have control—people who have to have their ideas heard and their egos appeased. Patton never understood the impulse. The desire to control others through political means was psychotic and something he couldn’t explain, let alone understand. He shook his head and forced these thoughts out of his head. His mind turned to his recent vacation. He and Jennifer hadn’t made it far. They were supposed to go to California to visit their respective families, but Patton changed their itinerary. Instead, they loaded up his truck and headed south the Salt Lake City. On the way there he made a special stop.
Patton smiled when he recalled the look on Michael Varner’s face when he opened his door and saw Patton on the front porch. Confusion turned to recognition, which quickly turned to shock. Patton Larsen, the legend of Blue Creek, was standing on his front porch. Varner invited him in and led him to a large study at the back of his house. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed forever. Varner glared at Patton, who gazed around the office, admiring the beautiful wood trim, the stylish desk, and the shelves full of books.
“Mr. Larsen, no offense, but what the hell are you doing at my house? This is clearly out of bounds for a resident. Hell, you’re not even supposed to know who I am and where I live,” Varner said finally.
Patton stared across the desk at Varner. He looked younger than Patton would have thought. He was classically handsome, with piercing eyes and a strong chin and jaw line. To most people, Varner’s appearance and his status was intimidating. Patton wasn’t most people, though.
Patton wasn’t sure how to proceed. He suddenly felt uncomfortable and started to regret his visit.
“I’m sorry. I have something for you. Bao gave it to me to give you.”
Varner’s eyes went wide. He leaned forward in his seat.
“Bao talked to you? He’s not supposed to—”
“—I’ve known for months who he is and what he does. He contacted me. Something’s happened in Blue Creek. He said that all the spies have been discovered by Asher. Some of them have been abducted and interrogated, including Bao. He’s worried something is going to happen to them all.”
Varner stood and paced nervously behind his desk.
“How come he didn’t put this into a report?” Varner asked, running his hands through his hair.
“He can’t. He’s under surveillance including his computer. All of them are. That’s why you’re not getting any negative reports. Things are terrible and getting worse and they have no way of telling you.”
Varner sat in his chair and pushed it away from his desk. Patton was impressed with the genuineness of the reaction. He seemed to really care about his employees.
“He gave me this,” Patton said and handed the thumb drive to Varner.
“What’s on this?”
“Lists of spies, updated reports, what’s actually going on in town.”
Varner held the drive like it was a priceless object.
“What are you going to do?” Patton asked.
Varner looked up at Patton, surprised by the question.
“I don’t know. I need to see what’s on it first.”
Patton leaned forward in his chair.
“I’ve told you. Things are bad. It’s getting dangerous. Asher has put together some kind of secret police. It’s his own little Gestapo. A family tried to escape Blue Creek. They wanted out but didn’t have the money. The parents are up in the prison Asher is building. The kids are in the City’s custody.”
Varner blew out a loud breath.
“Asher had Charlie Henry and Anna Radinski killed,” Patton continued. “He’s doing things on his own now. That old bastard Charlie Henry was evil, but there’s something about this Asher guy. He’s evil, but he’s less predictable than Henry was.”
Varner grimaced.
“I’m not sure what I can do here, Mr. Larsen. My company is under contract. If I’m in breach I have to pay a huge penalty. Just like you have to pay to get out. There’s a lot of money at stake in this thing. Lots of PhDs with lots of data to collect. These people are some of the most vicious people I’ve ever met.”
Patton nodded. “I know the type.”
Varner fiddled with the thumb drive. Patton was glad to see that the man was concerned about the human element and not just the bottom line. He was obviously torn.
“It’s not just your people, Mr. Varner. It’s about the people in Blue Creek. I mean, didn’t you people consider this to be a possibility? Didn’t you think that someone would rise up and try to take control of this thing?”
Varner shook his head no. He looked ashamed.
“I don’t remember this even being mentioned. That doesn’t mean the researchers didn’t think it was possible. I wasn’t at every meeting.”
Patton sighed loudly and shifted in his seat. He leaned forward to drive home his next point. He looked directly into the Insight Resources CEO’s eyes.
“I know I have no way of convincing you or the researchers or whoever else is involved with this debacle, but people are going to die. They already have. Asher has control of Blue Creek. He’s built himself a little private army. He’s trying to close us off from the outside world. When, and I mean when, things start to get worse, what are you and the scientists willing to do to stop it? You have to draw a line in the sand somewhere. Otherwise, someone else is going to have to take matter into their own hands.”
By “someone” Varner knew what Patton meant. Varner nodded. He knew Patton was right. He had no right to put a price on humans’ lives.
“I’ll talk to my people. We’ll come up with a plan. Then we’ll talk to the researchers. They hold the government grants. They have the politicians’ ears. I have to convince them. I need more evidence, though. If what you say is true – that I’ve been getting fake reports from my people – then I’ve got to open another channel of communication.”
Patton nodded. “That’s no problem. I just need proof that you know about this situation and that you want them to create real reports. You need to tell them to give their reports to me and I will get them to you.”
“How can I do that?”
Patton pulled his iPhone from his pocket and smiled. Varner smiled and nodded.
“Good idea.”
Ten minutes later they had a video that Patton would take back to Blue Creek to distribute to Bao and his colleagues. They shook hands on Varner’s porch. Before leaving, Patton said one last thing.
“Spread the word to whoever you talk to—if this thing gets further out of hand and more people get hurt, I’m going to hold someone responsible.”
Varner looked into Patton’s eyes and knew that he meant it. He swallowed hard and then nodded agreement.
That visit was two weeks earlier. Upon returning, Patton gave the video to Bao, but he hadn’t heard anything from any of the spies. Right now it was a waiting game. It was now out of his hands. If he didn’t hear anything soon, he would put his other plans into higher gear. In fact, that was part of the reason he was out on this long drive.
In his long career as a land developer and builder, this was easily the latest meeting he’d ever had with a potential client. The man looked at his watch again. He blew out a long breath, which he could see in the cool autumn air. Finally, after another ten minutes, the man could see headlights approaching. The driver parked beside his own truck and approached him, hands in pockets.
“Mr. Larsen?”
“Yes,” the figure replied quietly.
“Jerry Snow,” the man said, offering his hand.
Patton shook his hand. “Nice to finally meet you. And thanks for meeting me out here this late at night. It’s a long story.”
Jerry Snow nodded and smiled, but said nothing. He apparently wanted to hear the story. Patton explained the situation in town. The governor, the growing police presence, the arrests, the spies. By the time he was done, the old contractor’s mouth was wide open.
“So you see, I had to meet out here after dark. In fact, the reason I’m late is because someone was following me.”
“Are you sure?”
Patton nodded grimly.
The two men got down to business. Jerry Snow owned a large tract of land, over the mountains, to the west of Blue Creek. He and Patton negotiated the price for the land and for the cost of an initial development. The agreed on a figure – one that was in the millions – and Patton signed a contract. The work would begin immediately, Jerry assured Patton. They would put in sewer and water lines and would build the first few roads for the new town. Downtown buildings would begin before the first snows flew. They would also start building a few homes and then expand as more and more people decided to flee Blue Creek.
The men shook hands and parted company. Patton jumped into his truck and took a few moments to warm himself. Instead of turning on his lights and making his way back home, Patton donned a pair of night vision goggles. He scanned the road ahead, looking for Blue Creek security vehicles. There were none within his immediate view so he began to drive back towards the mountains.
Patton realized this conflict with Asher was becoming a chess match. This analogy was ironic—their first interaction started with an offer to play chess on the train to Utah. Patton turned Asher down that time, but now he was being forced to play. People’s lives were at stake. Asher had set the new board. Patton just made the first move. He knew there was no way to keep his new town a secret forever. Governor Asher would discover it at some point. It was up to Patton to figure out what Asher would do when he found out. He just hoped that things would fall into place before that happened.
CHAPTER
26
Patton slammed his laptop closed in disgust. The sound startled Jennifer.
“What the hell Patton!”
He glared at her but said nothing. He set the computer on his nightstand and slid further under the covers. She could see that it wasn’t his usual sense of annoyance. He was angry and disturbed by something.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, gentle now.
“Varner just emailed me.”
“And?”
Patton shook his head. “They’re not going to do anything. The researchers have no proof and right now it’s almost impossible to get anyone in here to monitor what’s happening. He said they used to have a huge network of cameras but that was shut down months ago.”
Jennifer let out a loud breath and closed her book.
“Not surprised are you?” she asked.
He shook his head. There was something else.
“He said he disagreed with the researchers and went over their head. He contacted the senator that sponsored the bill. He contacted the agency that supplied the grant money. He says they all ignored him. He hasn’t even heard back from the senator. Some bureaucrat sent him a generic email. He says he’s stuck.”
Jennifer moved to him and laid her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her.
“I don’t know …” he said quietly. “Something bad’s going to happen. I just hope—”
“—What? That you can save everyone?” she asked, raising up on her elbow.
Patton sat up and began to speak but Jennifer cut him off.
“I know this is what it’s about and it’s okay. I can’t talk you out of it. I know you and I know how you operate. And it’s a big part of why I love you.”
Patton was stunned. He’d expected a lecture instead of this. She continued.
“If you want to stay I’ll support you. But if you want to buy our way out and go home I’ll support you. If you leave for the wrong reason you’ll never forgive yourself.”
Patton was still silent. He couldn’t disagree with her. He laid his head back down, obviously deep in thought.
“I’ll think about it,” he said grimly. “I feel like I’ve given so much already.”
She laid her head back on his chest and quickly fell asleep. Patton, however, laid awake for hours and pondered his next move.
Smoke flew into his face as he surveyed the scene before him. The feet of children and adults – mostly women – were intertwined in the rubble. Patton removed his helmet and held it at his hip.
“Sir,” came the voice of one of his team sergeants.
“Yes?” he said, distracted, looking at a child’s foot.
“You’ve got a call from the general,” holding a satellite phone towards him.
“Yeah, thanks,” he said, still not looking at his subordinate. He took the phone.
“Yes sir?”
“I need an update, Major Larsen.”
Patton began to speak but choked on his words. He couldn’t take his eye off of the girl’s tiny foot.
“Major?”
“Sorry sir. They’re all dead,” was all Patton could say before the emotion crept back into his voice.
“What happened?” the general asked, his tone softening.
“The enemy hit the village from down below with mortars and machine guns. It looks like they formed up and killed anyone that survived the mortars.”
“Any survivors?”
“We’re checking that, Sir. There don’t seem to be any, though. All of the buildings are demolished. We have a stack of bodies here.”
There was silence from the other end of the line then, “Keep me posted, Patton. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Major Patton Larsen ended the call and put the sat phone in his cargo pocket. The sergeant returned.
“Drone shows the tangos are still close. We need to—”
Patton felt something warm and wet on his face. When the sergeant fell, Patton realized the man had been shot. There was an explosion behind him and bullets tore the ground at his feet.
“Get down, Sir!” yelled another of his men.
Patton dropped to the ground and came face to face with his fallen comrade. The man’s eyes were still wide with fear, blood gushing from a wound in his neck. Fire continued from down below him. He activated his mic.
“Where’s that fire coming from?” he yelled into his helmet-mounted microphone.
“Hundred meters down, behind those boulders!” came the voice of one of his men. He didn’t recognize which.
“Get some fire on that. Do we have drone coverage?”
“Yes Sir. We’ve had one on overwatch!”
“Call in and get them to engage!” Patton yelled into his mic.
He got to his knees so he could better survey the chaos going on around him. There was another explosion, followed by yet another. Patton stood and pulled his fallen sergeant into a fireman’s carry. He ran towards a demolished building as bullets continued to pepper the ground around him. Something impacted his leg—it felt like someone had hit him with a baseball bat.
Once he got behind cover, he realized he’d been shot. He examined the wound. It wasn’t bleeding badly so he turned his attention to his comrade. While working on him, trying to get the man’s throat to stop bleeding, he heard his name in his ear.
“Patton! PATTON!”
There was another explosion outside. It was probably a hellfire from the drone taking out the enemy down below.
“PATTON!”
Someone was grabbing his shoulder and shaking him.
Patton woke with a start and found himself lying in his bed. He was in Blue Creek, not in a demolished village in Iraq.
“Patton, what’s wrong?” Jennifer said, still shaking him.
He mumbled, trying to gather his wits.
“Patton!”
“Okay!” he said, pushing her hands away.
“You were yelling in your sleep. I’m sorry, but you were freaking out,” she said, trying to calm herself.
He sat up in bed and realized he was covered in sweat. He rubbed the scar tissue on his thigh—the mark that would forever remind him of those events.
“What were you dreaming about?” Jennifer asked, still not quite calm. She’d lived with him for over two years and had never seen him do this.
Patton was still breathing hard. Not sure if he should drag his wife through his memories. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.
“Sorry,” he said finally. “I was just dreaming about something that happened in Iraq.” He wanted to leave it at that, but knew she would press him.
“And?”
Patton shook his head, indicating he didn’t want to talk about it.
“Come on, Patton, I’m your wife.”
Once Patton calmed down, he told her about the Iraqi village that ISIS fighters flattened with mortars and then killed any survivors they could find. Patton said they were actually able to save the lives of two children, but everyone else, nearly a hundred people, had been massacred that day. As he relayed the story, even while awake, he could still see the little girl’s foot. He shuddered involuntarily and then tried to change the subject. Jennifer could tell that he wanted to end the subject so she let it go.
The dreams continued. They didn’t come every night, but nearly so. Patton would react to the dream, which would wake Jennifer. Some nights she woke him, but others she let him get through the dream by himself. After another week of almost sleepless nights, she begged Patton to get help. He refused, claiming that no one, especially in Blue Creek, could help him. They just needed to get out of town, or get rid of David Asher. Neither seemed realistic, so they continued to deal with the dreams.
Patton began to spend less and less time at work – turning operations of his business to an associate – and spending time in his workshop. Every time she went out to see what he was doing he asked her to leave, noting it was his way of decompressing. Little did she know that he was building an arsenal for what he thought was an inevitable showdown with David Asher.
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