Covert Reich

by A. K. Alexander

  “Really?”

  “Really. Now it sounds crazy and I personally think Farrakhan was off his rocker. But, like I mentioned to you last night, governments around the world have done things exactly like what Farrakhan claimed. In fact, in the 1970’s, there was a college text book titled “Ecoscience: Population, Resources, Environment.” It was co-authored by Obama science czar John Holdren. This guy and the co-authors stated that compulsory, government-mandated “green abortions” would be a constitutionally acceptable way to control population growth and prevent ecological disasters, including global warming, because a fetus was most likely not a “person” under the terms of the 14th Amendment.

  “Where are you going with this?” Kelly asked.

  “Hear me out,” Julio said and took a sip of his coffee. “The authors of this text also suggested government-mandated population control measures might be inflicted in the United States against welfare recipients. They argued involuntary birth-control measures, including forced sterilization, may be necessary and morally acceptable under extreme conditions, such as widespread famine brought about by “climate change.”

  “You think the government is covertly aborting fetuses or sterilizing welfare recipients to try and control the population?” Kelly asked.

  “I think it’s possible, and I think Brightman and Pearson were on someone’s payroll. I don’t know how they are giving the drugs to the women, but I’m convinced it’s happening.”

  Kelly sat back for a moment and thought about the various tests women have to undergo during pregnancy. Then she looked Julio in the eye. “It’s the pre-natal vitamins. It has to be. It’s something a pregnant woman takes regularly. Most of the other tests involve blood withdrawals but few require injections or medication.”

  Julio nodded thoughtfully. “I think you’re onto something, Kelly.” He stood, yawning. “And now, my dear, I say we try to get a couple hours sleep. I should have everything arranged for our island adventure by seven and then we’re off to chat with Dr. Brightman.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  Peter woke with a very bad feeling. Somewhere along the way he’d lost control. Killing Susan probably had not been a great idea, but she’d pushed him and he’d snapped. Literally.

  But once he’d done it, he regretted it. After all, she was good in bed and had helped the project. He’d wrapped her up and carried her down to the basement. Thank God his place had one. He wanted her body as far away from him as possible. Now he needed to call in somebody to get rid of her. Good thing he had someone on the payroll who could handle it. He made the call, knowing by the time he was out of his morning shower, she’d be gone.

  Susan’s body was the least of his worries considering it was only nine o’ clock and he’d started receiving calls three hours ago from a handful of colleagues on the board. They’d gotten word there was trouble and Wentworth was unhappy. Wentworth! Maybe he was another mistake too. Did these incompetents not understand their mission? The reason behind everything they did and everything they stood for? It was frustrating to say the least.

  Now there were two women on the run: Doctor Kelly Morales and Jeanine Horner. And then there was Ryan Horner. He was probably the largest threat of the three. Kelly Morales likely didn’t know anything, and whatever she thought she knew would sound like insane rambling to the authorities. Not to mention, Peter had quite a few authorities on his pay roll. As for Jeanine Horner, she may have information but unfortunately for her, she was now a suspect in the murder of her dear friend and the kidnapping of the woman’s infant. But Dr. Ryan Horner knew too much. He had too many details. If he got the attention of the right person, or in this case, the wrong one, everything could come crashing down. Finding him was key.

  Peter made phone calls to men who could help him get the answers he needed, and he’d learned a few things. Kelly Morales was somewhere in San Francisco and had spoken with a nurse from the hospital.

  He paced the length of his swimming pool—his head pounding after last night. Although it was a crisp morning, he was perspiring. Fuck!

  Peter threw himself into one of the lounge chairs and finished off his second cup of coffee. His cell phone rang. He wasn’t prepared to have another conversation but the call was from Connor. Thank God for Conner. He’d contacted Peter after Mark had about the incident yesterday with Dr. Morales. As Peter assumed, Pritchett was the one to blame. Then again, when you looked at it more carefully, he was the one to blame. He should have never put Mark in the position he had. Now Connor was doing double duty because one of his other best men was lying in the morgue. Poor Thomas.

  “Sir, I’ve located Dr. Morales,” Connor said.

  “Where?”

  “She just boarded a plane to the Caymans. She’s traveling with someone named Julio Velazquez. Ran a report on the dude. He’s trained and smart. He’s also a homosexual.”

  “I don’t give a shit if he’s from Mars. I want to find out how she knows him.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Good. This Velasquez, you say he’s trained?”

  “Special Ops. obtain access to it.”Marines. His file is closed. At least I have not been able to

  “Okay, well, it’s likely he’s not armed if he’s boarding a commercial flight. He may have access to weapons once he gets there, but that will likely take him some time, and I expect you will have them handled by then. Kill them both. But do it so no one finds them. I can’t risk more dead bodies popping up.”

  “Sir, they are on a private jet. The guy must have some serious connections.”

  Peter didn’t say anything for a moment.

  “The Caymans?”

  “Yes, sir. What do you want me to do?”

  “Meet me down there. You’ll have some back-up as well.”

  “Where?”

  “Are you listening, Connor? In the Caymans! I will fly in and we’ll take care of Dr. Morales and her friend. I will let you know my ETA. I’m sending a plane for you.”

  Now why in the hell would Dr. Morales and some mercenary be traveling to The Caymans? Somehow he doubted it was for a tropical vacation.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  Tony and Simmons pulled up in front of Eric Sorensen’s apartment building. Tony was eager to hear what Kelly’s friend and co-worker knew. It was late. Just past eleven-thirty. They took the elevator to the second floor.

  The doors slid open and they walked down the hall toward Eric’s apartment. When they got to his door, they were alarmed to see it was partially opened. Pazzini called out, “Police! Open up!”

  There was no response.

  He took his gun from his holster and nodded at Simmons who followed suit. They slowly opened the door and stepped inside. They hadn’t gone more than a few feet when they spotted a man lying on the floor near the kitchen. He’d been badly cut. Blood was coming from his chest. Tony glanced up and saw the curtains from the balcony billowing through the open sliding glass door. He bent down over the man who stared at him, frightened. “Simmons call the EMTs. We need back up and search.” He bent down over the man on the floor. “You’re Eric, right?”

  Eric tried to nod and winced. His voice was raspy and cracked slightly as he replied, “Yes. I stabbed the guy.”

  “Good for you, man. We’ll get the bastard. Just stay still.” Tony looked around and could see large drops of blood leading out through the balcony. The guy who came to take Eric down may have met his match, because from the amount of blood on the floor and walls, he’d been seriously injured before escaping. Tony wanted to question Eric about Kelly, but he was barely conscious. He managed to get one question in before the emergency crew arrived. “Do you know where Dr. Morales is? The man who tried to kill you just now is probably with a group who is after her. Please tell me if you know where she is.”

  Eric opened his eyes and mouthed the word, “Yes.” Then he passed out.

  Tony stayed with Eric, waiting for the EMT’s. Simmons began casing the area looking for any
signs of the perp. As the medics arrived and began working on Eric, Simmons called up to him from outside, “Pazzini, I got the perp. He won’t be saying much though. He is d.e.a.d.”

  Tony stood and slammed his fist against the wall. Would he ever see Kelly again?

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  Gem called Pazzini who answered after the third ring. It was six o’ clock in the morning but she figured he kept odd hours.

  “Pazzini” his voice was sharp and curt. He sounded agitated.

  “Hey, Detective. It’s Gem Michaels.”

  “Oh, hey.”

  “I know it’s early and I’m sorry, but I think I’ve got something.”

  “Spit it out. I’m in the middle of a situation here and don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Listen, if you want in on this, meet me at US Airways. I’ve booked a flight to Newark out of LAX. Flight 7682. We leave in an hour and a half, so you better get moving. If I’m right I am going to lead you to Jake Hamilton’s killer. I hope I spelled your name right for the ticket. Hope to see you on board.” Gem hung up.

  Yes, there was a strong possibility Pazzini would blow her off. She’d called him out of common courtesy because he’d allowed her to pursue her story without interfering, and had even given her a few decent leads. She’d also called him because she was scared. Gem did not know what she would find when she got to Jeanine Horner’s cabin. Hell, she didn’t even know if the woman had been telling her the truth. For all she knew, she was headed out on a wild goose chase…one that could potentially result in someone getting hurt, or worse. But she felt it was a risk worth taking. And she felt if she had given Pazzini all the info over the phone, he would have cut her out of the entire thing. She was too deep in this to allow that to happen. Gem crossed her fingers and hoped the detective would take the bait.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  Redding was mid-flight when he was finally able to log-in to his e-mail account. Based on the number of calls he’d received, he was certain someone had sent him an e-mail or two. Only a few people had his e-mail address and when he saw one from Frederick, his head guy in Germany who’d been tracking Horner, he immediately opened it.

  Mr. Redding,

  We have located Dr. Horner and family. They are in the Catskill Mountains in a cabin at 2893 Back Hills Lane. I am in pursuit and am boarding a plane from Heathrow to New York at 2:00pm this afternoon, my time. I will not let you down.

  Färber

  Sent from my iphone

  “Yes!” Redding smiled.

  He left a message for Connor to take care of Morales and her new special agent friend. Redding had a bigger fish to fry and damned if he wasn’t looking forward to it. It had been far too long since he’d been in the field removing “problems” himself. He ordered the plane to redirect.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  Ryan could not help but feel smug. His hands shook for a good five minutes after sending the e-mail. He ordered a cocktail from the flight attendant, hoping to calm his nerves. He wondered if anyone had found that prick, Frederick Färber, yet. He hoped he was dead. Ryan did not feel guilty for killing that son-of-a-bitch and locking him in a toilet. Not in the least. He palmed the man’s phone and thought about the day Färber approached him in the café parking lot in San Diego. How he’d taken him, tortured him with the horrible images of what was done to The Petersens.

  He was going to get these bastards. All of them. He had a feeling Redding would show up at the cabin. And when he did, Ryan would take him out. He would certainly beat him there. Redding would need to get to the airport and then it would take six hours to fly east from there. Then he’d need a car, and that would take another three hours to make the drive. He’d likely take his time, assuming Färber was going after them, but Ryan was sure Redding would show. Ryan knew Redding wanted him dead and he was sure he would want to be involved. But Ryan had a head start…he was already 37,000 feet in the air and had been for three hours. He would beat Redding to the cabin, get the girls out, and lay in wait. By tomorrow morning, there would be no more Peter Redding and all of his plans would be destroyed.

  Three hours later the plane landed, Ryan rented a car and then went to a gun shop in a seedy area of town where he illegally purchased a nine-millimeter glock.

  He now had to get to his family and hide them, and then Redding would come to him like a horse to water. And with any luck, Redding would soon meet his maker. If it was the last thing Ryan Horner did, he would send Redding to Hell.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  Kelly and Julio were only a half hour from landing in The Caymans. Kelly slept a good portion of the flight. She woke feeling…well, not exactly refreshed but better than she had in days. Julio glanced over at her and smiled.

  “Hey, sleepy head. Wait until you hear what I’ve found out.”

  Kelly rubbed her eyes and took a sip from her bottled water. “Do tell.”

  “The pre-natal vitamins being stocked at the women’s center in East L.A. are supplied by Frauen Pharma. They’re based in Germany and have a satellite office in Los Angeles. Apparently, they’re supplying meds to half a dozen clinics around the country—just like the one in L.A. They’re all located in poor areas, neighborhoods with a lot of welfare recipients, that kind of thing. I’m still trying to find out if there have been any pregnancy related deaths in the hospitals or centers near these clinics. Anyway, my guess is these six clinics were field test centers. They’re distributing the drug to see how it works on real people. Once they get it right, they’ll probably go national.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Yeah, and check this out. The CEO of Frauen Pharma is this guy, Peter Redding. Apparently his adoptive father was a pretty high up in the Ku Klux Klan.”

  “What?” Kelly sucked back a deep breath of air. She took a moment to digest everything and looked back at Julio. “In this day and age, to think people like this can actually put a horrible plan into action…it’s, it’s, I don’t know…”

  “Disgusting,” Julio said.

  “At the very least.” She looked out the window, her thoughts scrambled and full of emotion. After a few moments she spoke again. “But…”

  “But what?”

  “The detective. The one I told you about. He’s Italian. I mean he doesn’t exactly fit the racist profile.” She frowned. “I really thought he was one of the good guys.”

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I mean…yes. I thought I did anyway.”

  “It could be a simple misunderstanding.”

  “Maybe.” She wrapped her sweater around her shoulders. “Back to the issue at hand…I keep wondering about Brightman. I mean, why move to The Caymans?”

  “Off-shore accounts. I already traced it. I got an address on the dude and in about an hour, I’ll be paying him a little visit.”

  The plane touched down and Kelly shot him a look. “Wait a minute. You? What about us?”

  He shook his head. “Kelly, this thing is bigger than I initially thought. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come with me. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt…or worse.”

  She folder her arms against her chest. “I don’t care. I’m going. I want to look that bastard in the eyes and get an honest answer.”

  Julio sighed. “You know how to shoot a gun?”

  “Of course.”

  He opened up his duffel bag and took out a Beretta, handing it to her. “Think you can shoot this?”

  “Hell yes I can.”

  He smiled. “I thought you might say that. That’s why I brought an extra. I figured you weren’t the type to stay behind.”

  “You figured right.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  Jeanine knew she had to make a move. The girls were hungry. They’d eaten the last of the Top Ramen stocked in the pantry. Oliver was almost out of formula and the diapers were gone. She’d been using towels and a pair of safety pins she found in her aunt’s bedroom. The little guy was miserable and be
tween the whining, the crying, and the hopeless feelings, Jeanine was close to losing it.

  She’d parked the kids yet again in front of the TV and began flipping through channels, searching for a cartoon. She’d caught a glimpse of CNN earlier and was shocked to see she was wanted for questioning in Melanie’s murder and suspected of kidnapping Baby Oliver. How was she was supposed to get out of this mess?

  The sun was setting, and she knew she’d run out of options. Jeanine had to go to the police. She had to take the risk.

  “Hey girls, Mommy is going to go upstairs and pack.”

  “Are we leaving?” Chloe asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m bored,” Taylor said. “And he stinks.” She pointed at Oliver.

  Chloe giggled. The simplicity of youth. If they only knew the kind of trouble they were in. If they only knew it was likely they’d be placed with social services if caught until Jeanine could prove her innocence to the cops. And that was a good outcome, comparatively speaking. She looked at her blue-eyed girls and didn’t know if she could do it. She did not know if she should take the risk and leave the cabin.

  What choice did she have? They couldn’t stay here and starve to death. She made her way up the stairs. Jeanine had just finished putting the girls’ things into the pack when she noticed how quiet it had become down stairs. When it came to kids, silence was rarely a good thing.

  She hurriedly slung the pack over her left shoulder and Oliver’s diaper bag over her right. She grabbed a couple more towels for Oliver and then quickly made her way back down. Suddenly, one of the girls cried out, “Mommy, help! There’s a bad man!”

  Jeanine dropped the bags with a thud and leapt over the last four steps to the landing below. A man stood in the middle of the living room. He was dressed in a suit and tie. He had graying sideburns and could have been a businessman, if it wasn’t for the large gun pointed at Chloe’s head. Taylor was on the ground next to her sister with her head bowed between her legs. She was sobbing. Fortunately, the baby had drifted off to sleep.