The Harbinger of Change

by Timothy Jon Reynolds

  “Maybe,” Bob nodded, acknowledging the possibility. He added, “It sure would explain how someone so expertly got into a system that was deemed beyond hacking.”

  “It answers a lot,” Kim agreed. “We looked at Conceptual’s books and saw that they were about to make budget cuts, cuts that would have affected Nancy Chavez, who was low person on the Totem Pole. She must have found out.”

  “You think that sped up their time line?”

  “I have a gut feeling it did, Bob, and it would explain why she couldn’t fly the plane. No time to learn maybe, or hire a pilot?”

  Bob pondered. Then he added, “It would seem that this all ties together. What a lucky-ass break our perpetrators got that the President’s own order to ground small aircraft led to them capturing a pilot.”

  Kim tapped her pen after playing with it in her mouth. Bob wished he was 40 years younger—smart definitely was sexy. She half spoke to herself, “James Haberman, a traitor? That is going to take some time to get used to.”

  “Tell me about it, Kim. I had a personal relationship with him. He was brilliant and a joy to work with. We recruited him after a long vetting, and Westinghouse had no idea. He was just doing his patriotic duty, he wouldn’t take our money. He devised a couple of incredible devices that would be hard to detect, the wearer not long for this world. I really liked him and he never set off any of my alarms.”

  “Well, we both have a lot of bases to cover on this one, Bob. So why did you bring me here in the first place?”

  “It’s about Matt Hurst.”

  “I assumed that. But what about him that I don’t already know?”

  “Well, by your tone, I would say that you don’t believe he works for us. By the end of this conversation, I hope to change that opinion.”

  * * *

  As Doug watched the President, he felt that he had just experienced a situation where the government told as much of the truth as he’d ever seen. President Caulfield must have been really endearing himself in Middle America.

  He wondered where Matt was, and thought back to their last words together. They had been on the ground with machine guns pushed up against the back of their skulls, faces in the dirt.

  Matt had actually smiled at him and said, “My turn comes later.” He had not only believed they wouldn’t kill them there, but his comment had appeared to be indicating that he wasn’t one of them.

  But it was the last thing Matt said that has been running through Doug’s head ever since. “Shh, don’t tell, it’s our secret.” If he had done what he appeared to have done, then Matt was crazy because he had gotten kidnapped on purpose. All through his debriefing they had been looking for some thread like that. All Doug could think of was that Matt must have had a good reason to say “Shh.”

  So he had left that part out when talking to Ray Callahan. He hoped one day that Matt would get a chance to explain what he meant. He felt it was the least he could do for the guy that gave him a story that would earn him a lifetime of pussy.

  * * *

  They came into the hacienda with Felipe in the lead. Vera was right behind, being carried by a larger-than-average white male. Felipe led them to the couch, but the gringo holding Vera chose a barstool instead, apparently because it afforded his back some relief. Pablo saw him trying to adjust into a position he could live with while her arms remained wrapped around his neck.

  Pablo came down the stairs and approached her, “Vera, Verasita.” He reached out for her and she recoiled slightly at his touch. He looked at her salvador and asked, “What happened to her?”

  * * *

  It was a long trip. She never let him go for even a second.

  The first part was a car ride with Matt wearing the stifling hood. But soon it was removed, and they were on another small plane, much to Matt’s disappointment. Finally, they were on a private jet, her arms still around his neck, but he needed to go to the bathroom badly. He had actually overfilled his bladder and couldn’t go at first, and then it was like he couldn’t stop. This has got to be some kind of record.

  If Matt’s back could speak, it would be begging him not to exit the bathroom, for the relief from her weight was more than needed. When he exited the bathroom she launched on him like before, trembling, animal-like. His back immediately returned to its painful, spasm-filled nightmare.

  Even with all she’d put him through, when she launched on him, he absorbed her aroma, and his mind convinced his back that everything would be okay. Then they were taken to a helicopter, and finally Matt was here. Wherever here was. One thing was for sure, there was nothing within miles of here. That much he gathered on the ride in.

  The house was huge. On the way to it, he saw that it was attached to what appeared to be a construction site. It was done in an incredible taste that belied the remoteness of the location. Right next to the house was a monolithic warehouse.

  A man driving a cart appeared. He was short and had tattoos everywhere, even on his bald head, just like Matt’s original escort.

  They rode the golf cart through the rain, getting slightly wet even though it had a canopy. The cool rain and air were a welcome feeling for Matt after many stifling hours with her wrapped around him. He was starting to get more than a little claustrophobic, and his neck was done.

  They made their way to the hacienda. It was beautiful, even in the rain at night. As they entered the giant horseshoe-shaped driveway, the first thing Matt noticed was the overwhelming aroma of flowers. There were flowers of every kind, and his nostrils were on overdrive. The house was a Spanish style of construction, but it had an abundance of large wood beams that reminded him of the Ponderosa Ranch from the TV show Bonanza.

  Matt noticed off to the left what appeared to be a living quarters of some kind. Many windows were lit, and he saw shadows dance on various curtains. The house front was well-lit to welcome visitors. It was truly one of the finest houses Matt had ever laid eyes on.

  They went up the steps to the entryway. The door itself was a marvel of wood and stained glass that was extremely impressive. They were brought through a living room and into what Matt guessed must have been the den. It was amazing, with giant crossbeams of some apparently-indigenous wood, and huge blocks of granite making up the walls.

  With Vera still attached to him he sat down, his original escort suddenly arrived back at his side. From upstairs, a man appeared and began to walk down. It was actually more of a boy or a very young man. He came right up to Matt, and his eyes were like magnets. Matt couldn’t look away.

  Matt had chosen a bar stool to sit on to give his back a little relief. The man said nothing to him, but went around his backside and tried to talk to her. He said her name, and Matt recognized the voice as the man from the phone.

  The little tattooed man was off to the side, watching intently. After she wouldn’t respond, the voice from the phone came around to look at Matt asking what happened to her?

  Matt replied stoically, “She was raped.”

  The man/boy slunk into the neighboring leather seat. He looked at Matt with the most pleading eyes Matt had ever seen. His eyes showed that he felt this affront to her with every ounce of its horror. It was the first time that Matt realized how difficult this job was going to be.

  Matt’s monster had just turned out to be a very caring person, who looked nothing like any monster he’d ever seen. Maybe they were brother and sister—but then Vera’s words had come back to him. She had said she was with someone, but had permission to be with another man if she chose.

  The man/boy got control of his emotions and was able to ask Matt, “When?”

  “Right before we were to leave,” Matt replied. “She left me behind as she prepped the plane, and two CIA agents showed up. One was left behind, and one went to find us. I dispatched the one left behind. By the time I found her, she was being raped and tortured. I killed her assailant with his partner’s pistol.”

  Pablo’s worst nightmare had just unfolded in a few sentences. Then his
analytical mind took back over. “Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you just run?”

  Matt looked at Pablo straight in the eyes and said, “You mean apart from the threat to my family?”

  The two looked at each other at a level eye-to-eye, a feat made possible by Matt’s position on the bar stool with Vera draped over him. If he were standing, it would be eye to throat, because he was that much taller than Pablo. Another of Pablo’s many gifts was his ability to read people through their eyes. Many people had noticed that Pablo’s eyes reflected his analytical mind, and Pablo noticed the same thing looming in Matt’s eyes as well. Pablo could see it clearly. That made him a threat.

  But there was something else there, too. Pablo held his gaze and could read something else. It was something very troubling, because it made the situation harder to deal with. This man’s eyes held an amount of compassion Pablo had never seen before. As a case in point, Matt carried so much compassion that he was currently wearing a near stranger to the point of total exhaustion.

  Pablo knew Matt’s story. He was a security guard that his government now thought was culpable for this attack. He was a face they could put on this.

  Pablo looked into the gringo’s eyes for the answer he sought. His choices were that he could have Felipe sneak in tonight while Matt was sleeping and put a knife in his heart, or he could he let him live and give him a new country.

  Sometimes very large decisions come down to very minor things. Battles have been won and lost on small turning points throughout history. In this case, there was something in the gringo’s eyes that conveyed he really cared, not just about his own life, but about the lives of others as well.

  The fact Matt wore his emotions on his sleeve enabled him to continue existing on this earth. It was apparent to Pablo that there was no ambiguity in him. That fact alone was enough to save his life—at least for now . . .

  To continue the saga of Matt Hurst and Pablo Manuel, watch for the second book in the Harbinger of Change Series, And the Meek Shall Inherit.

  Other books from Timothy Jon Reynolds

  And the Meek Shall Inherit

  Now, two years after American citizen Matt Hurst was kidnapped and coerced into betraying his family and country in order to save them, his time of waiting for revenge is over. He has bided his time effectively and has now placed himself in a position to achieve his end game of redemption. And the Meek Shall Inherit is the continued saga of Matt Hurst and Pablo Manuel. In order to survive the past two years, the American abductee has had to immerse himself in his captor’s world, so much so, that now that the time has come for him to act, will he be able to pull out all the stops to avenge his country’s and family’s honor? Or has the ideology of his captors taken a hold of him so deeply that he is now willing to act against his own country, something he'd already been falsely accused of doing? And the Meek Shall Inherit is a rollercoaster ride of international intrigue and military action, coupled with the inner-turmoil of the man who can stop it all—if he has the will to do so.

  Without Wrath

  Two years has passed since Matt Hurst saved the world from a cyber-attack that would have erased the data banks of almost every institution on the planet, and he has dropped off the face of the earth, at least to the public anyway. Secretly, the President of the United States has permitted Matt to return to society using an alias, allowing him and his family to settle in the Pacific Northwest. Matt turned down an analyst position with the CIA to work for a clandestine group of patriots named TJAC. All was going well, until, using his alias, he befriends a video gaming legend. When that legend names Matt's alias, Tom Holsinger, as the developer of a game Tom helped to invent, all hell breaks loose for Matt and his entire family. Every enemy that Matt Hurst had ever made is now converging on the Seattle area, each of them were looking to settle a score with the man who ruined their plans for world domination. Without Wrath is a fast-moving thriller that ends up delivering a real message to a nation that so desperately needs one. Without Wrath delivers, but it also leaves the reader pondering the greater real world picture that lies within its pages and beyond.

  Chesed

  Just past the one-year anniversary of the attacks on America and his family in Seattle, Matt Hurst could no longer duck the public’s need to know all the facts about the exploits of his life. Hoping that clearing the air would be the salve he needs to re-obtain autonomy, Matt and his family host a television special that clears all the speculation once and for all. Unfortunately for Matt, destiny has other plans for him, and yet again, he is thrown into a world of international intrigue and suspense. And once again, if he wants to get out alive, he will have to pull out all the stops, as his enemies are far more reaching and powerful than ever. Chesed balances action, intrigue, and the ruthlessness of the corporate world, with brotherhood and hope, lifting the reader to believe there really could be so much more for all of us.

  About the Author

  Timothy Jon Reynolds formerly worked as a criminal investigator for the Dayton Hudson Corporation. In his tenure there, he literally oversaw hundreds of criminal cases of almost every nature. It was there that started writing in his mind—even if he didn't know it at the time. After leaving that career for a safer one, he began working as a manager in the biomedical industry, eventually moving on to owning his own company. Nowadays he travels the northwest as a Sales Manager for the company that bought his, taking in and absorbing the places and people he visits and meets. All as fuel for his stories. His feeling is that writers, "need fresh faces and stories around them constantly, otherwise they will stagnate and the writing will suffer." When he is not traveling, Tim enjoys being a Northern Nevada resident with his wife and children, complete with all the civil liberties that great state provides.