The Leaves in Winter

by M. C. Miller

  Faye took control of the mouse and navigated the report to the jet’s manifest. “Besides Hasuru, who got targeted?”

  Colin watched the report scroll by. “I haven’t gotten that far.”

  Faye paused on an entry and stiffened. “Two pilots and a service attendant – I guess they’re acceptable collateral losses.”

  No explanation was necessary but Colin felt impelled to make a case.

  “If this was an accident, that’s exactly what would happen. Janis said there were eight members in The Group. This operation got half of them. The other half must believe this was an accident.”

  “Why not wait until they’re all together?”

  “We have no way of knowing how often that happens, if at all. For security reasons, they might avoid that and videoconference their combined meetings.”

  Faye moved down the manifest. Onscreen, a thumbnail photo aligned beside a short bio of each passenger. The next entry caught her eye.

  “…Heinrich Jaeger. I’ve heard of him. He’s big in European biotech.”

  “According to the map he took a side trip to Milan,” added Colin. “He also owns a research lab in Basel-Stadt. It was no fluke they were headed there.”

  Faye scrolled down the page. The next name caught her eye like none other. At first she didn’t believe it. Too stunned to speak, she pointed at it on the screen.

  Colin leaned forward to make sure what he thought he saw was correct.

  When he finally spoke, the room went cold.

  “…Kevin Mass.”

  Frozen in place, Janis repeated what all were thinking.

  “…Mass?”

  Faye rushed to click on the thumbnail photo.

  Janis jerked across the desk to see it. The look on her face told Faye everything she needed to know. It was a photo of Knockout Mouse.

  “…KM…” whispered Janis. Tears welled up in her eyes and behind it surged a rage and frustration that launched her into a fit across the room. “No! You bastards! What have you done?”

  Faye slumped, stunned. She sat back on the edge of the desk. “It can’t be…”

  Taken aback by their emotional reaction, Colin tried summing up their shock. “So Kevin Mass is Knockout Mouse…”

  Across the room Janis stood shaking with eyes closed.

  Faye glanced at her then stared at Colin before dropping her gaze to the floor. “You don’t understand…”

  Colin waited but both Faye and Janis were too distraught to explain.

  Taking control of the keyboard, he expanded the bio and scanned details. “Kevin Mass…son of Eugene Mass.”

  Janis looked to Faye. She wanted to shout but could only whisper. “He told me he was just a kid in college when his father got him a job doing research for a new think tank.”

  Colin read on. “…his mother was Eugene’s first wife. They split up when Kevin was in his early twenties…”

  Janis added, “That would be right around the time when Mass left The Group.”

  Faye considered all that Janis had told her since they first got back together. The line of evidence was falling into place but pieces of it were not yet evident.

  “But all these years, Kevin stayed with The Group.”

  “He must have taken sides with them against his father.”

  “Or the divorce split the family three ways,” reasoned Colin.

  Janis thought back to her last days in India.

  “And Malcolm Stowe blackmailed him. Malcolm worked for Eugene.”

  Faye drew the conclusion. “A father’s revenge – plus that would give Mass an inside way to keep track of what The Group was doing.”

  The distress was too much for Janis. She began to pace.

  The day had just started and yet the highs and lows coming at her were more than she could bear. Sadness vied with anger to overpower her. She felt crushed. The misery she had seen in Alyssa’s eyes only compounded with the news that Knockout Mouse was dead. The fact that such news originated with Colin only served to feed simmering resentments. She became indignant.

  “When will you people stop screwing with things…?”

  The non sequitur drew both Colin’s and Faye’s attention.

  Janis stared Colin down. “You’ve probably killed all of us.”

  The wretchedness and fury in Janis’ tone set the room on edge.

  Considering the soaring emotion, Colin tried holding back but he couldn’t help reacting defensively. He knew Janis had become somewhat friendly with Kevin Mass but this level of despondency out of her seemed out of place.

  “Hold on. I’m sorry he was on that flight – but let’s not overreact.”

  Janis turned to confront him. “I don’t believe you.”

  “You don’t believe what?”

  “I think The Project had this manifest long before that jet ever took off. They knew exactly who’d be on that flight. They let it happen anyway.”

  Colin grimaced. “Why do that?”

  Faye interjected, “Why not? To you he’s more collateral damage; accidents are like that.”

  “No!” Janis shouted. “It was because of the surveillance – you knew Kevin was about to go public with all he knew. He’d decided to turn against The Group. He told me he was going to expose it all and you couldn’t let that happen, could you? If the truth about 1st Protocol ever got out, the secret of your fuckup trying to sabotage it might see the light of day. Everyone would find out who really caused sterility. He wasn’t collateral damage – he was a bonus kill!”

  “Come on…” started Colin. “I think we all need to take a step back from this.”

  “All of you are so fucking pathetic. We were so close!”

  Bursting into tears, Janis ran from the room.

  Faye examined Colin’s suddenly perplexed reaction.

  “…So close? What the fuck – was she in love with the guy?”

  Faye scowled. In the moment it was more important to comfort Janis than stay and make sense of it with Colin. Faye jumped up and rushed out the door.

  Janis had already caught an elevator going down. Faye noticed the lit-up down arrow and took the companion elevator to catch up. At the first floor security station she asked the guards about Janis. They motioned she had run outside.

  Faye tore through the lobby and out the front door. Outside everything was wet and bright with shimmers of reflected sun. Looking both ways, Faye caught a glimpse of Janis heading up the service road along a perimeter fence. Faye’s first impulse was to take after her in a sprint but then she remembered the warning from her obstetrician. A long and thoughtful walk would be all she’d be able to manage.

  It was better that way. It gave them both time for the intensity to settle down.

  At the back of the property, at the highest point, Faye finally caught up with Janis. She stood alone in a small field looking out to sea. On approach, she ignored she had company. For a while, Faye stood silently by and shared the view.

  The ocean was a sight to behold. The greenery of the hills around them was resplendent. Everywhere the majesty of planet Earth was on display. And yet for all its inspiration, the glories of the surrounding world seemed other worldly compared to the civilization that ran rampant across it so recklessly and self-absorbed.

  The day’s events only highlighted the poignancy of how true that was.

  Janis stood her ground, enclosed within herself, silent but obviously hurting.

  For Faye there was no point mentioning anything more about what had happened. Some things were too raw and understood, too close to the surface to need comment. Purely reactive, she let impulse take flight.

  “We should get out of here.”

  The suggestion didn’t faze Janis. She said nothing.

  “This would be a perfect day to go to the beach,” added Faye

  Janis took the bait. “And what would you tell security?”

  “At this point?” Faye took a moment to let the proposal peculate. “What does it matter? I’ll tell
them I’m going. If they don’t like it they can shoot me.”

  Janis was expressionless. “Some would call that a win-win proposition.”

  The dark humor was depressing but at this point it relieved some of the stress.

  Faye turned and tried to catch Janis’ eye. “I’m serious.”

  “You usually are.”

  “Wanna come?”

  Janis paused. She glanced down on the cluster of buildings that was GARC. “I can’t stay here right now.”

  Faye perked up. “So where should be go? Any ideas?”

  Janis thought a long while. She scanned the distance from south to north.

  “Yeah,” she said finally. “I know a place. A lighthouse used to be there.”

  Faye reflected on the Borinquen Lighthouse Ruins, the island place where Janis had gotten together with Knockout Mouse.

  Going there would be Janis’ way of paying last respects but it also might be a shared way to come to peace about all that was lost.

  Faye turned to go. “All right, let’s go.”

  Janis started after her but got an idea and paused.

  “Just a minute.” She clutched her phone from lab coat pocket.

  “I want to send Colin something. Maybe that asshole will figure it out.”

  She gave the text one last look, selected message forwarding, and pressed send.

  411 \ vac 4 3P exists! me 2 get & give 2 u asap 1 way or other ///

  Chapter 46

  Curtis Labon’s Estate

  Quebec Province, Canada

  The crunch of snow was underfoot but unheard beneath the noise of machinery. Curtis walked beside the job foreman and listened to a progress report. Around them stretched ten thousand acres of wilderness that encircled Labon’s private lake. His home property was a special refuge from the clamor and craziness of the world.

  No more than today.

  A skip loader carried dirt from a leveled-off area cleared of brush. Not far away, a newly-in-place pre-fabricated building received finishing touches. The impressive structure would soon function as a small warehouse. Its twin roll-up doors were open and forklifts shuttled in and out with goods being unloaded from the back of a semi-truck.

  “Tomorrow we start on the fuel tanks.” The foreman motioned to a plot of land behind the building. “First the gasoline tank gets buried then the propane tank will be set up on that clearing. We widened the drive-up access like you said.”

  “What about the perimeter fence?” asked Curtis.

  “We got the one you wanted.” The foreman lifted a clipboard. “One other thing; it’s about this stock order. Are you sure these figures are right?”

  Curtis gave a glance and walked on. “What’s the problem?”

  “Oh, no problem. It’s just a hell of a lot of stuff. When it first got called in I thought someone in my office heard wrong. I mean, it’d take a couple of years and one hungry group to eat through all of this.”

  Stopping at the door of his SUV, Curtis obliged with a condescending smile. “I like to have enough on hand. It cuts down on trips into town for supplies.”

  The foreman backed away. “I guess it would. All right, I’ll get back at it.”

  “You do that. Good job. Thank you.”

  Curtis got behind the steering wheel and started the engine. A blast of air shot from heater vents and the center console television lit up with a CBC sports report. Despite the reporter’s impassioned account of last night’s game between the Vancouver Canucks and the San Jose Sharks, Curtis failed to take notice.

  He sat as the car idled and watched the transformation – his idyllic estate was becoming a survivalist compound. To think that such a thing might be necessary was one thing. To watch it happen for real was sobering and put things in perspective. A world losing most of its people was horrendous enough. But not having the means to self-protect against what was killing them was unbearable.

  And center to his thoughts.

  He put the car in gear and started up the gravel path headed for the main house. The sports report ended and a recap of hourly headlines took its place. He half-listened until news of a jet crash in the Swiss Alps caught his attention. The mention of two names in particular caused him to step on the brake and watch intently.

  “…Hasuru Tamasu, Heinrich Jaeger…”

  He reached for his phone and dialed a number only recently put on speed dial.

  “Hannah…it’s Labon. Have you seen the news?”

  The woman’s voice was rushed and distracted.

  “Ah, no, I’m in the middle of something.”

  Curtis ignored her clear indication of being interrupted.

  “Aren’t we all. I have another job for you.”

  Reserved, Hannah’s tone became more focused with marginal interest.

  “You have something else that needs to disappear?”

  “No, at least not yet.” Forming a plan, Curtis watched the CBC broadcast showing brief bios of wealthy crash victims. “A private jet went down in the Alps. It left Lugano headed for Basel. Several important people were onboard. I need to know if it really was an accident.”

  Hannah filled the pause on the line with a quizzical moan.

  “…I don’t know. Where does one start with that?”

  “That’s up to you. You can have whatever resources you need.”

  “Oh, OK,” huffed Hannah. “Would that includes MI-6, the CIA and Mossad?”

  “What are you saying? You can’t do it?”

  “I’m saying it’s a tall order. If the crash was an accident, there’s nothing to find. How will I know when to stop looking? If it wasn’t an accident, it’s a sure bet someone’s working hard to make scarce any facts you want.”

  Curtis hadn’t expected this resistance. It only highlighted his vulnerability. Forays into covert work had become necessary only in the past couple of years. What started with private investigations ultimately had led to Hannah’s operation to silence Oliver Ross. Her questions now pointed out how much his approach suffered from a lack of cohesiveness and sophistication.

  “You’ll have all the intelligence at my disposal.”

  “Can I hire other operatives?”

  “Why? Can’t you go at this full time?”

  “It’s not that. The scope of what you’re asking is beyond one person.”

  A work truck came up the single-lane road behind the SUV.

  Curtis glanced into the rear-view mirror and let the truck wait.

  “As usual, I prefer those involved kept to a bare minimum.”

  Hannah hardened with the prospect of taking on business set up to fail.

  “And you need an answer as soon as possible…”

  Curtis held back his angered impatience. He simply expected too much of a limited tool. Faced with that fact set him uneasy but the pressure of events demonstrated how ill-prepared he was in critical ways. He had called Hannah on impulse expecting to order up an answer as easily as he had ordered food for his survival stores. He saw the folly of that now and yet, the threat to his security was obvious. Options for a timely response were few.

  He had no choice but to press her to take the case.

  “I need an answer as soon as you get one. Give it whatever effort you can spare. I really need eyes on this. Are you willing to look into it or not?”

  Hannah relented. “I’ll do what I can. I can’t promise anything.”

  “Keep me posted, even if nothing’s happening.”

  As the line went dead, Curtis tossed the phone onto the passenger seat in frustration. He gunned the engine and spun wheels in the compacted snow and gravel. Shifting into four-wheel drive, he got the SUV moving up the road with the waiting truck tagging along behind.

  The phone rang. He leaned over and grabbed it, expecting to hear Hannah with a question. Instead, it was a member of the household staff.

  “Sir, just a reminder, your son Noah is expected to arrive in a few minutes.”

  “Yes, of course. Don’t bot
her sending the car. I’ll pick him up.”

  Curtis steered for the helipad weighed down with unexpected restlessness and anxiety. On the heels of disturbing news from Switzerland and Hannah’s reluctance to assist, the prospect of a reunion with his estranged son now seemed taxing. He never expected such a meeting to be easy but the way he felt promised to make it even more difficult.

  At the helipad, Curtis waited as the helicopter flew in from the south, hovered to get orientated, then landed. As he watched, he reflected. Noah would graduate from college this year. The last time they saw each other, Noah had just become a teenager. The divorce came soon after. It was brutal in many ways but none crueler for Curtis than the loss of connection between father and son.

  The intervening years had not been kind and the estrangement had only grown, not softened. Noah’s emotional resentments had found intellectual support when the lures of class warfare and environmental causes took hold of his idealism. Noah rejected family position and wealth. Instead, he embraced militant expressions of a rebellion that Curtis believed had roots far more personal than political.

  The helicopter door opened and a young man hustled out from under the spinning blades. He hopped into the SUV’s passenger seat and avoided prolonged eye contact with the driver.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” offered Curtis.

  Properly antagonistic, Noah mumbled back, “Mom said it was important.”

  Curtis was put on notice; Noah had only agreed to come because of his mother’s suggestion. That was quite all right with Curtis. He had worked long and hard to get her to intercede. It was unfortunate that it took dire innuendoes about global changes to persuade her to help.

  The drive back to the house was short but long enough to establish how tense and awkward father and son felt in each other’s presence. Curtis noticed that Noah arrived without suitcase of any kind. No doubt it signaled he didn’t intend on staying. Curtis forged ahead anyway, requesting house staff to show him to his room.

  Noah protested. “No one said anything about sleeping over. I’d rather get to the point of why I’m here.”

  “Very well…” Curtis waved off the staff member with a forced smile. “We’ll be in the family room. We’ll need privacy.”