Blood Line: 1

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Blood Line: 1 Page 21

by John J. Davis


  “And then I found it. I remember it was a Sunday afternoon last June. I literally stumbled across this little family business in Georgia. I read the DOD file on INESCO and thought it was too good to be true. I mean, INESCO is just a mom and pop outfit with fifty employees. I showed Julia what I’d found. We got so excited that we called in sick the next few days so we could research INESCO. When we discovered INESCO had a relationship with NASA, we hacked NASA to find out what you’d done for them. But that relationship was so long ago that it was dead end.

  “So, we kept on searching through countless files. I was ready to give up. Honestly, I was, and then we found it. We found DOD code 97CLK after opening hundreds of files and reading hundreds of dead ends. File 97CLK was the jackpot. The DOD classified the project as next generation stealth and a threat to national security. Project 97CLK was the closest thing to cloaking an object the DOD had ever seen. The DOD was excited, but their internal memorandum urged caution and asked to proceed with the typical approval and procurement process so as not to draw unwanted attention to the project. Idiots, I thought at the time, because the normal approval process could take up to ten months or a year. I didn’t want to wait that long to get paid. That’s when I changed my plan. I decided to steal the project and sell it to the highest bidder.”

  “So far, so good, Tom. Tell me about the buyer.”

  “No, I want you to hear it all. I want you to know everything. You see, I called Porter, Travis, and Briggs. I brought them up to speed and sent them down here to Georgia. They started their recon a year ago. None of you dopes knew it was happening. They worked night and day for a couple of weeks, looking for a way to steal the technology. When they determined they couldn’t steal it, they zeroed in on Anderson. The head of R&D for INESCO was the most likely candidate. We decided to make him steal it for us. We ran our little scam on him. We scared the shit out of the guy. He’d have done anything we asked him to do, but I have to admit, I believed him when he said he couldn’t steal it. We put eyes and ears on him just in case he ran to the cops. We soon realized there was only one person that could give us what we wanted, and that person was you, Valerie. So the recon started all over again. We kept watching Rod and his family, but you and your family were the targets. Porter was primary. He was tasked with gathering information on family Granger. I used my CIA clearance to run background checks on you three and your extended family. Everything was proceeding just as planned. Rod had told us you, and you alone, could identify the project file. Porter had determined that your kid was your one weak spot. The background checks came back clean on you and the kid, but we had the red flag on Granger. I asked around. I made discreet inquiries and came up empty on the guy, so we didn’t worry about him.”

  “The buyer. Who’s the buyer?”

  Moore wasn’t having any of it. He was back in control of his emotions and the situation. “Look, if I’m spending the rest of my life in some deep dark CIA hole, then I’m telling this story my way. And another thing: you’re answering my questions when I’m finished. I want to know how you got onto us. You don’t like it? Kill me.”

  The silence lay heavy in the air. No one spoke. I knew enough to know Valerie wasn’t thinking about how to respond. She’d led Moore to this point for a reason. The lights went out, but Moore didn’t scream this time. When the flashlights came back on, Ryan was holding two of them and shining them on Moore. Hodges and Franks could be seen cutting the bindings away from Moore, sitting him up and turning him around with his back now to the entrance of the old jail and me. Moore was now facing Valerie, Wakefield, Zach, and Julia, but I don’t think he could see them. The flashlights were placed on the floor in such a manner as to make the beams of light cross each other a few feet in front of Moore’s face. Moore was sitting on the floor rubbing his arms and legs, now free of their restraints.

  “Porter came up with the kidnapping plan,” Moore said, “but I liked the idea. I know we made a mistake not taking Ron’s CIA past more seriously,” he added before pausing. He looked up at the group standing in front of him, and then down at his chest.

  “What in the hell is this?’

  “Those are damp paper towels smeared with a fake blood product called Truclot, by LUNA Corporation. The military uses Truclot to train field medics. The product resembles human blood in every way, especially smell.”

  He peeled the fake bloody towels off his shirt and tossed them on the floor. Moore looked from side to side, and then behind. If he noticed me near the open cast iron door of the old jail, he didn’t show it.

  “It was all an act?” he asked.

  “The buyer, Tom. Tell me about the buyer,” Valerie repeated.

  “But how?” he asked, and then, answering his own question, “Julia! You’re in here, Julia, aren’t you? You ran that little program on your little box and fooled me,” he said. He cupped his hands over his eyes and searched the group until he found her. “My other mistake was you. I should’ve taken it to the next step with you.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to enumerate your mistakes later. Right now, I want to know about the buyer,” Valerie demanded.

  “I’m getting to it. Ease up. Tell me something; did Julia crack and spill it all for you?”

  Valerie walked out of the shadows and squatted down so she was face to face with Tom.

  “No, you self-righteous pig.” She dropped an earpiece on his lap before she walked away. “Julia remained loyal to you till the end. Unlike you, she never said a word. The buyer. I want to know about the buyer.”

  “What is this?” he asked, holding the earpiece in the light. “It’s an earpiece. So what?”

  “You wanted to know how we got onto you. That’s how. That earpiece was in my daughter’s ear you dumbass. Now, tell me about the buyer.”

  Seemingly unfazed Moore asked, “Don’t you want to know the rest?”

  “Fine. Go ahead. I can see you have a deep desire to hear yourself talk. So go ahead and talk, Tom.”

  “Everything was in place. The plan was flawless. We take the kid and then you exchange the project associated with DOD file 97CLK for your daughter’s safe return. But the DOD screwed it all up. They moved up the approval date. They decided to fast-track the project. We had to scramble. That’s why we hired the local boys to kidnap Leecy, and not real pros. Another mistake, I admit, but in the end we accomplished the goal. We had the girl, and then I got greedy. I lost sight of the original plan. I wanted to make you, Valerie, work for me, and that clouded my judgment.”

  Valerie’s laughter filled the room.

  “You egomaniac. You actually believe that if not for a few mistakes, this colossal cluster-fuck of a plan of your design would’ve worked? Are you really that arrogant? Look where you are right now. Hodges and Franks have their firearms trained on you. It took me twenty minutes to get you to break. You picked an emotionally compromised woman to try and recondition. She wasn’t under your spell, Tom; she was reliving a past event. But you, with your superior behavioral analytic skill, missed it. You thought she was responding to you. She wasn’t. I saw what Julia was going through. How do you miss a thing like that? She was only looking for a way out. I gave her one. You underestimated Granger, and didn’t even uncover one thing about my past. The shot I made in the dark from twenty-five feet away should’ve been enough to tip you to something, but it didn’t. No, and now we have your laptop. The identity of the buyer and the specifics about his bag and payment are in your notes. We know who he is. Julia’s already tracked his passport. We have his flight information. I just want you to confirm what we have, but at this point it doesn’t really matter. You’ve confirmed enough of what’s in your files for us to know the rest is accurate.

  “Zach was right about you. You’re so convinced that you are the smartest person in the room that you fail to give anyone else any credit for being intelligent. That’s what screwed you, Tom, not Julia, or the mistakes you made. Because if you were as smart as you thou
ght you were, those mistakes could’ve been overcome. But you’re not. Your exaggerated sense of self was your undoing. It was your own hubris.”

  The sound of footsteps on the stone floor replaced Valerie’s words. One by one, the room began to empty. First to leave the old jail were Franks, Hodges, and Ryan. Julia and Wakefield followed them out of the room. Zach was bringing up the rear when it happened.

  Moore sprang to his feet, grabbing the young MIT grad around the neck with his left arm and holding a gun to Zach’s head with his right hand.

  “My hubris? What about yours?” he screamed at Valerie. “Who doesn’t disarm a prisoner? Now, I’m walking out of here. I’m driving away in one of the SUVs, or I’ll shoot him. Do you understand me?”

  Wakefield spoke for the first time.

  “Thanks Tom,” she said. “I wanted this to end cleanly, with no loose ends.”

  Her words had a chilling effect on Moore. I could see him piecing the puzzle together in his mind; he was an extremely smart person, after all. The problem was: he wasn’t the smartest person in the room.

  Valerie pulled her weapon and fired. The shot struck Moore between the eyes.

  Valerie said, “We just needed you to give us a reason.”

  Zach could be heard repeating, “Holy shit. Holy shit!”

  “You’re fine, Zach,” Valerie assured him. “Why don’t you head on up the stairs so Ryan and Hodges can remove the body?”

  Hodges and Ryan hustled down the stairs and loaded the body into a black body bag Valerie had asked Lester to procure for her earlier. I watched them double time it back up the stairs with Moore heavy in the bag. I was about to ask Valerie a question when a long shadow appeared on the floor. It was Wakefield.

  “I’m impressed,” she said. “The Mossad trains their people well. I’d heard about their interrogation techniques, but tonight was a first for me. The way you twisted him up and spun him out was impressive. But tell me, how’d you know he’d make a play at the end?”

  “His ego was too massive to sustain a hit like the one he took when he was broken. The only reason I asked him to play a role in confirming the data on the computer was to repair the damage to his ego. Once he became combative again with me, insisting he be allowed to say what he wanted to say, I knew he was ready. All I needed to do at that time was tear him down again. Humiliate him one more time. It was only a matter of when, not if, he’d act, to prove to himself he was the smarter person.”

  “And the gun?” Wakefield asked.

  “What about it?”

  “Was it loaded?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Wakefield didn’t respond right away. She turned toward the stairs before speaking.

  “So, even before we made contact with Leecy, you decided not to give Moore what he wanted. I suppose we could play the what if game and speculate how this could’ve ended, but I’ve never been one to second guess.” Pausing briefly on the stairs, Wakefield turned to face us.

  “I’m grateful to you both. We’ll pick up the other bad guys on our way out of town. They’ll be debriefed, and then dealt with accordingly. I’ve already forwarded the information about the buyer to the FBI. They’ll pick him up when he lands in Atlanta.” She turned again and walked up the stairs, stopping to say, “Tell Leecy that Julia won’t face prosecution. I’ll personally see to it that she gets the help she needs. I don’t think we could’ve pulled this off tonight without her.”

  “Lester said to tell you that Porter’s injuries prevent him from being transported tonight,” I said.

  “No, I’m sure Lester is mistaken. We’ll pick up Porter as planned.”

  “We could’ve pulled it off without Julia, you know, but it would’ve been a lot bloodier,” Valerie said.

  Wakefield laughed, and then she was gone.

  I hugged and kissed Val before taking her by the hand, and we walked up the narrow staircase of the old jail together. We stepped onto the lawn of City Hall, only to realize Wakefield, Hodges, Franks, Ryan, Julia, Zach, the SUVs, the ambulance, and the other vehicles had all been driven away.

  “How did they do that so fast?” I asked. “Looks like we’re walking.”

  “No, we’re not. Look over there,” Valerie said as she pointed toward the restaurant.

  I could see the parking lights of the Honda Civic as the car drove toward us.

  “I told her to go to her grandparents,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know you did, but she’s smarter than you, and knew we’d need a ride home.”

  I held Valerie’s hand as we crossed the lawn of City Hall. I stopped in front of the Historical Marker and said, “Wait, I want to read this.”

  “‘December 10th, 1890. The citizens of Parkland, Georgia, were slaughtered on this spot by a neighboring tribe of Cherokee Indians. The fifty citizens lost their lives in what is considered the most deadly attack by Indians on settlers living on Georgia soil,’” I finished reading.

  “What do you make of this, Mr. Wild Indian Man?” Valerie asked with a smile.

  “It’s all bullshit. My great uncle told me about this when I was a kid. His version was very different.”

  I heard Leecy calling us from the car. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  “Well, what did he tell you?” Val asked.

  When I didn’t respond right away, she pressed.

  “Are you going to tell me what your uncle told you?”

  “Was the gun loaded?” I countered.

  Val smiled again and said, “Get in the car, Granger. Let’s go home.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Leecy asked.

  “Your father is keeping secrets, Leecy,” Valerie said as she buckled her seatbelt.

  Leecy reversed out of the parking space, saying, “No secrets, Dad. You know the rule.”

  “Mom’s keeping secrets, too, Leecy,” I said in my best child-like voice.

  Leecy was speeding away from City Hall, lecturing, “It’s been a long couple of days. I haven’t showered since I can’t remember when, and I want to sleep in my own bed. So spill, you two.”

  “He won’t tell me the true story behind the historical marker,” Valerie informed Leecy.

  “She won’t tell me if the gun that was left on Moore’s person was loaded or not,” I said.

  “Easy, the gun was loaded. Even a nut job like Moore would’ve noticed the weight difference between an empty gun and a loaded gun. As far as that bogus Historical Marker is concerned, I Googled that last year after the topic came up in history class. People did die there, but only after the citizens of Parkland, as Park City was known back then, kidnapped some of the Indian women and children that were passing through the area. The white citizens wanted to force the Indians to leave the area and thought they could achieve that goal by taking hostages. The Indians were preparing to meet the demands of the settlers and break camp. The Indian Chief sent a scout to the white settlement, which was located on the land where City Hall now stands, to make sure the Indian women and children were being treated well. That’s not what the scout witnessed. No, instead he witnessed the white men taking advantage of the women and some of the older children. The scout reported back to the Chief and the rest is history, literally.”

  “Interesting that kidnapping and sexual assault almost happened again in the same place. I wonder if Moore knew about the true story and picked that spot on purpose,” I said.

  “No, the spot was chosen because of its proximity to the police station,” Leecy said.

  “And now we know the answer to the other question,” I said.

  “What question?” Leecy asked.

  “The question of who’s the smartest person in the room,” Valerie answered.

  Epilogue

  December 23, 2013

  Holiday travel was in full swing, as Christmas was two days away. The Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson International airport was as busy as I’d ever seen it. Valerie and I were flying to Ne
w York, renting a car, and driving to New Haven, Connecticut, to visit Leecy for the holidays.

  Leecy had left for Yale in late August, and we hadn’t seen her since. She was taking a double load of classes in pursuit of her degree, so there was no time for family visits even during scheduled school breaks. She would call us occasionally and we’d Facetime with her, but that just wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. We missed her, and decided to do something about it.

  “Have you ever?” Valerie asked as we slogged through the main concourse after checking our luggage at curbside check-in.

  “No, this is ridiculous, and we haven’t even made it to the line for security yet.”

  “Maybe the crowds will thin out once we get to our gate,” she said, and then asked, “Did you drop off all the gifts? Did you see Lester and Elizabeth?”

  “Yes. All gifts were delivered. I did see the new Chief of Police and his wife this morning. You should’ve come with me, because I got to see baby Winston.”

  “You did? Is he as precious as his pictures? How’s Liz?”

  “Yes, and yes he is, and she’s doing great. They’re all just great. Liz said to tell you she’d miss you. She said Park City won’t be the same without Valerie Granger living there.”

  Valerie turned toward me in the security line, and in one of her rare moments of self-doubt, said, “We’re doing the right thing?”

  Not really a question, but more of a statement seeking confirmation. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

  “Doing? We’ve done it. No time for second guessing now. We’ve sold our home. Our belongings. Our cars. We resigned our positions at INESCO. It’s all done, sweetheart. We’re unencumbered.”

 

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