by J. M. LeDuc
“Before retiring my pen, let me add: If Brent has not reconciled with that young woman, Chloe, please become a meddling mother and find a way to bring them together.
“Brent is many things, but he is still a man. Therefore, he is at a disadvantage when it comes to the art of verbal communication with the opposite sex. He needs to remember,
‘No Man Is An Island.’
“Love you always,
“Joseph”
Silently, they stared at the papers in Brent’s hand. “That was quite the letter,” he said.
They turned at a sound in the hallway to see Chloe walk into the den. She sat down next to her husband. “At a disadvantage in verbal communication, hmmm, the more I learn about Joseph, the more I realize what a genius he was.”
Brent leaned over to kiss Chloe gently on her cheek. “Lucky for you I’m not totally inept in non-verbal communication.”
Chloe faintly purred as she returned the kiss.
Lucille stood, “All right, you two. It’s very late and we have to get up early, separate or I’m going to turn the hose on you.”
Addressing Chloe, she said, “You look a bit green around the gills, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“I woke up feeling kind of queasy. I came down to look for something to calm my stomach. That’s when I heard you two.”
“I’m glad you did. If I’d known you were awake, I would have asked you to join us.” She pulled Chloe to her feet. “Come with me and I’ll get you something for that stomach.”
CHAPTER 47
Shortly after 4:00 a.m., the C-130 circled Boston Harbor. “Time to gear up, recruit,” Jefferson said. It was hard to hear anything inside the empty hull of the cargo plane, so Charlotte pointed at her ears. Jefferson moved closer, lifted the ear protection from Charlotte’s head and repeated what he’d just said.
“What do you mean ‘gear up’?”
Jefferson motioned her to watch Fitz who was putting on his jumpsuit and parachute. For the first time since Charlotte’s training began, the two veterans saw fear in her eyes. They grinned.
“This must be some sort of joke, right? Like an initiation or something. Right?”
She looked from one to the other, hoping for a clue that it was a joke. Their faces told her different.
Jefferson grabbed the jumpsuit hanging from the hook attached to the side of the fuselage. “Here ya go, little lady. Put this on. The zipper goes in back.”
“But I’ve never done this before. I have no idea what to do.”
“Not to worry. Everything you need to know will be explained before we jump.”
She sat, jumpsuit in her lap and stared at Jefferson while he slipped on his jumpsuit.
Oh my God, she thought, this is for real.
He saw her sitting and staring. In a split second his expression changed from a caring friend to an elite soldier, mid mission. “Either put it on or you’re out of the squad and you’ll make the return trip with Q.”
Charlotte was numb. She fumbled her way into her jumpsuit. Fiddling for the zipper, she felt Fitz’s hands on her shoulders.
“Trust, Charlotte.”
She felt the back of her suit being zipped while Fitz kept talking. “Put your backpack on first and make it very tight.” Without thinking about it, Charlotte did as she was told. “Good. Now put your chute on over your backpack. You’ll need to first step into it and then put the shoulder straps on.”
Fitz adjusted all the straps and tightened them for her. “It has to be good and snug.”
“No problem there, Sergeant,” she said as she felt the straps pull up into her crotch.
“Sixty seconds till drop zone,” sounded through the speakers.
“Ten-four, Q,” Jefferson answered.
“Charlotte, listen to me,” Fitz said. “This is a simple procedure. Q will fly low over the drop zone. You’ll be clipped onto this static line.” He held what looked like a thick canvas strap. He attached it to the apparatus she wore.
Just then, Charlotte’s attention was drawn to the back of the plane which began to open.
Fitz snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Hey, pay attention. When I tap you on the shoulder, run to the back of the plane, throw your arms wide and arch your back.
Got it?”
Charlotte remembered Colonel Venturi’s lesson on concentration and emotion. She closed her eyes, dropped deep into the blackness of her head and found what she was looking for. When she opened her eyes, Fitz smiled at her.
“Good girl. Once airborne, you’ll feel a tug on your suit. Look up and find the two handles hanging down. Grab hold of them and pull them down as hard and as fast as you can. Those are your brakes.”
Before she could think of anything to say, Q yelled, “Go, go, go.”
On her left, she saw Jefferson run three quick steps, then throw his arms and legs back as if he was flying. As soon as she felt Fitz’s touch, she was caught in an adrenaline rush and ran for the opening, imitating Jefferson. She fell for what seemed an eternity. In reality, five seconds had elapsed. Charlotte felt the hard tug come from the back of her suit. Her chute opened, slowing her decent, giving the illusion of pulling her skyward.
Charlotte located the orange toggle handles and gripped them tightly. With every ounce of strength she possessed, she pulled down on them so hard she was afraid she’d rip them off. The harder she pulled, the more the chute slowed. Before she could think any more about it, her downward motion stopped suddenly when her body came into contact with the hard sand of the landing site.
Her breath knocked out of her, she laid in the fetal position and felt her chute float down on top of her. Trying to catch her breath, she frantically searched for a way to get out from under it. As she struggled with the yards of material, she heard a Southern drawl.
“Well, lookie here. It’s a bit early but it seems Santa brought me a Christmas present.” Seven’s sarcasm wasn’t wasted on the other two. They laughed as Charlotte untangled herself from the chute. Poking her head out, she looked up at her fellow squad members. Each of them laughing and smiling down at her. She was about to let them have it when she saw Q land the plane just to the right of the drop zone.
“What is he doing here?” she growled through clenched teeth. “If the plane was landing anyway, why the hell did we just jump?”
In tandem, Jefferson and Fitz stepped back, allowing Charlotte to face off with Seven. He spit a wad of tobacco juice about a foot from where Charlotte was sprawled on the ground. He extended his hand to help her to her feet. The Colonel’s words ran through her mind causing her to resist telling Seven what he could do with that hand.
Instead, she accepted it.
Seven spit once more. “After the Colonel called to tell me he’d decided to make you a permanent member of the squad, I decided I’d check your fortitude myself.”
On a wide-open airstrip, in pitch darkness in early morning, Charlotte watched Seven pick up the chutes. “And?”
“Welcome to the squad, Miss Dupree.” He smiled a tobacco-stained smile and spit again. “But we need to come up with a nickname for you. ‘Charlotte’ ain’t gonna cut it and I sure as hell ain’t gonna call you Miss Dupree.”
While Jefferson brought Seven up to speed on the safe house, a black SUV barreled up the access road. Meanwhile, Q repacked the chutes, then disappeared into the darkness. The driver of the SUV asked, “Who was that?”
“That was…”
Before Charlotte could say another word, Seven said, “Who that was has nothing to do with this mission. Let’s move out. We’ve got a big day ahead of us and I could use an hour of sleep before I brief my squad on the details of the mission.”
CHAPTER 48
Morning arrived quickly in Palm Cove. Brent had scheduled a six a.m. meeting with Father Jessup to start their search.
Before they struck out, Brent planned to gather everyone for prayer. To his astonishment, everyone, even Chloe, was already up. He headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
Chloe, Lucille, Joan and Father Jessup stood around the dining room table, holding hands. Each asked the Lord for a quick and positive resolution to the situation at hand.
Then it was Father Jessup’s turn. “Savior and Lord,” he prayed, “You said that whenever two or more gather in Your name, You are present among them. We are very humbled by Your presence. Lying ahead of all of us, and especially Brent, is a most daunting task. We come to ask the impossible, for we know it is You who can grant the impossible. The time that has been prophesied since the crucifixion is upon us, a time so precarious and fearful that believers have kept it a secret until now.
“The world has become dark enough, evil enough and immoral enough that Satan believes it is ripe for the taking. We think not. We, Your disciples, think it’s time to teach the dark angel a lesson on faith, a lesson that will teach him when two or more gather in Your name, You are present, and when You are present, all things are possible.
“As we embark on this mystery, we pray for Your guidance, and that God’s will be done. Amen.”
Everyone said, “Amen.”
“Amen,” Brent said as he walked into the room. Pouring a cup of coffee, he changed the subject and set the tone for the morning. “We’ll have to move quick if we are to decipher the tunnel etchings and find the Cave of Enlightenment before the Butcher makes his way to Palm Cove.”
“Are you sure he’s on his way?” Joan asked.
Taking a sip of coffee, Brent answered, “There is no doubt. With Satan’s guidance, he’ll know just which direction to travel and that will bring him to us. We have one huge advantage, however.”
“Which is?” Maddie asked.
“He hasn’t yet found out I’m the Enlightened One. When he does, if there is any Jonas left in the body Satan has infiltrated, his emotions will show themselves.”
They all recognized the chirping sound coming from Joan’s computer in the den that signaled an urgent email had come in. “If you’ll all excuse me.” Seconds later she was back. “It’s from forensics. They say they have must-see information from the Boston evidence.”
Brent looked at the clock. “Maddie, this one’s for you and Chloe. Father and I have an appointment.”
“Whoa there, buster. You’re not going anywhere without me. You don’t even know where to go.”
“Joseph’s letter clearly states that once the cave is found, no one is allowed to enter it except for me and Stephen.”
“We’ll discuss that after we find the cave.”
“There will be no discussion. Since the cave is protected by evil, the temptation to enter will be too strong to resist. I’m not willing to take that risk.”
“There will be no risk,” Chloe said. “No one knows the wall etchings better than I do. As soon as we know the location of the cave, I’ll leave. Until then, you’re stuck with me.”
Brent knew Chloe was right. He nodded his acknowledgment, “I don’t like it, but I’ll go along with it. When you’re right, you’re right. We leave in ten minutes. Do whatever you have to do and meet back here.”
“What you have to do is eat,” Lucille said as she headed to the kitchen. “So park it in those chairs. Sunrise isn’t until 7:20. There’s plenty of time to do whatever you have to do after you eat.”
CHAPTER 49
The squad stayed in an old farmhouse outside of Worchester, Massachusetts. Their hosts corrected their pronunciation of their town. “It’s ‘Wista.’”
Their day started early, as usual, and they awakened to smells of fresh coffee and homemade pancakes.
They sat down at the kitchen table to eat minutes before six a.m. The conversation quickly turned to the day’s one-and-only-one assignment—Mary Ann Farrell.
“Mr. and Mrs. Farrell will meet us at the sanitarium at ten,” Seven said. “Mid-to-late morning seems to be their daughter’s most lucid time of the day. If she is going to make any sense, that’s when it should be.”
“Have you mentioned anything about our bringing their daughter with us to Palm Cove?” Jefferson asked.
“Nah, it took me an hour of begging, and you know how much I like to beg, just to get them to agree to our visiting with her.”
“Why such resistance?” Fitz asked.
“I can answer that, if you don’t mind, Sir,” Charlotte said, addressing Seven.
“Please do, and I’m your brother not your commanding officer. Stop with the sir. Got it?”
“Got it, Si…got it. The reason they’re so resistant is because of their daughter’s connection to the Omega Butcher. I can guarantee you that every news agency, every tabloid and every ‘medical expert’ has either spoken to her, or tried to. I’ll even go further to hazard this guess: each encounter has left Mary Ann with increased emotional and psychological trauma.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
Seven got up to get himself another cup of coffee. “Don’t forget, Malcolm, she speaks from experience.”
Jefferson’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, that’s right. I sort of forgot. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Charlotte said. “I’m glad you ‘sort of forgot.’ That makes me feel more like I’m part of the squad.”
Seven stood near the table, cup in hand. “Let’s get this one point perfectly clear and then we’ll never discuss it again. Charlotte, you may or may not know, I wasn’t overly excited about your being added to the squad. But you’ve proven yourself to all of us through the most intense training anyone was ever put through in an amount of time I would not have thought possible. You are to never feel like part of this squad, you are this squad.
“Every breath you take, every thought you have and every prayer you pray, you do so as part of the Phantom Squad. This squad is no longer whole without you. You complete the other members, just as they complete you. Your past, like our pasts, is no longer of any consequence. In fact, if you check with the Social Security office, you’ll find Charlotte Dupree no longer exists. You exist only as a member of the Phantom Squad. Understood?”
“Understood,” she answered.
They all clinked coffee mugs in a sort of ceremonial induction toast.
“I suggest we all get ready, relax a bit and be set to move out at 8:45. It’s about an hour’s drive from here to our destination. I don’t want to chance being late.”
“Excuse me, Seven,” Charlotte said. “What should we wear?”
“Ya see, this is what I mean,” Seven said, looking at the two male members of the squad. “Now that we have a female squad member, we’re going to be talking about wardrobe.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was…”
Seven laughed. “I know what you meant. I just wanted to bust on ya. Everyone wears street clothes. Uniforms, Charlotte, are only worn for clandestine missions, and those only happen in the black of night.”
“Thank you for clarifying it,” she said, part embarrassed, part thankful that he didn’t rank on her more than he did.
Walking to their rooms, Fitz hip checked her. “Seven never kids with someone he’s not completely comfortable with. Take what just happened as a compliment.”
He nudged her again, smiled, then peeled off for his room.
CHAPTER 50
Seven pulled their rented SUV into the Brahms Memorial Sanitarium parking lot at 9:50. “We don’t want to overwhelm her parents, or the young lady, for that matter. I suggest I make the introductions while you two,” Seven looked at Jefferson and Fitz, “hang back. Charlotte, you’re with me. It may make them more comfortable seeing a female around their daughter’s age as part of the interview team.”
Charlotte nodded, then looked at the others. Their expressions reminded her of Colonel
Venturi’s comments and concerns. She could hear him say, “Watch Seven closely for any changes in how he looks or acts. If you see any, tranquilize him immediately and abort the interview.” She nodded in Jefferson’s and Fitz’s direction. They nodded, indicating they were all on the same page.
As Seven stepped out of the vehicle, the other three put their earplugs in. Inside Brahms Memorial, Seven and Charlotte looked around at marble floors and dark cherry furniture. The sanitarium was a facility that catered to the well-to-do.
“This place reeks of old New England money,” Charlotte whispered through her closed-tooth smile. “It’s a lot like the place I was sent to after my encounter with Mr. McFarland. I’m not so sure that getting their patients well is their primary concern, if you know what I mean.”
“As long as daddy foots the bill, they benefit if you don’t,” Seven added.
“Bingo.”
“Sad, but it makes sense.” Looking around, he said, “I think that’s momsy and daddy sitting to our right.”
“Yeah, they do have that prep school look.”
“The what?” Seven asked.
“You know, casually dressed but everything just so. In reality, they both spent hours getting ready to make themselves look like they spent very little time getting ready. Her dress is understated, yet all designer labels. And he goes nowhere without his khakis and sport coat. She probably has a copy of Architectural Digest in her bag, and he carries the Wall Street Journal or Investor’s Daily News, though they probably don’t read any of them.”
“Bitter, are we?” Seven asked sarcastically.
Charlotte thought about his question and chuckled to herself. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
As they neared the couple, Charlotte said, “If they are as New England as I think they are, they’re not going to have much faith in someone with a heavy Southern accent, especially someone with a wad of tobacco in his mouth. Do yourself a favor and hit the men’s room first. Rinse out your mouth and then go easy on the accent.”
