Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

by Frank Klus

  “Everybody get that?” Dennis O’Reilly said. “All right then, let’s get that squad to the motel. I’ll go and see the Commandant now.”

  “O’Reilly, what do you have for me?”

  “Sir, I’ve found them.”

  “Sit down, Dennis, and tell me everything.”

  “Well, sir, it was your man, Nate Phillips, who gave us the break we were looking for. We know just where they are. We heard all their plans.”

  “Great, Dennis. Now start from the beginning.”

  “Well, it started with Horace Hayfield. He was caught trying to sneak across near the popular Oregon crossing. He was arrested and released by Phillips, who smelled real money. He knew Horace had a bunch, so he put on his act as the caring lawyer, sprung him, and then offered him a real—well, I should put real in quotes—chance to get out of the country, but it turned out Horace couldn’t get his money out.”

  “I had DOJ freeze his accounts.”

  “Right. Well, that wasn’t the end of it because he arranged to have Senator Moore released from the hospital and brought to Idaho to cross the border. But it turned out he had better contacts than he had money.”

  “Wait! So Moore was never killed?”

  “No. It was Phillips who put the word out that he was dead. The wounds were only superficial. He more or less fainted on the tarmac.”

  Both laughed. “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Casimir said.

  “Phillips spread the word he was dead, because he smelled money—a lot of it. Anyway, he now had Moore, but it turned out Moore didn’t have a lot of money. Phillips gave his spiel about how he could get him out of the country, and that’s when he learned Pamela was nearby. Phillips was convinced that she and her charges had plenty of money. There was just one problem: she had ex-blues with her. Not just Ray and Cassandra, like we figured, but Armstrong, Foote, and Wrenn.”

  “I was wondering why we hadn’t heard from them for months. Okay, so what happened next?”

  “Phillips had Moore contact Pamela from his encrypted phone. The plan was for them to come to the Lazy Tourist motel in Martinville, Idaho. Phillips would meet them, collect a hundred grand, give them a phony escape plan, and then have them arrested.”

  “So we knew where they were—at this Lazy something motel. Why didn’t we send someone there ourselves and pick them up?”

  “Well, sir, this area wasn’t under our control. It was neutral territory and we’d pretty much need local cooperation, or have the local authorities pick them up. Phillips said he could save us the bribe money it would take to do this, and he’d pick them up for us after fleecing them. I gave him the okay and told him to keep us posted as to what was going on.”

  “That’s taking a chance, Dennis. What if he betrayed us and let them through?”

  “First, sir, without his cooperation we’d have a hard time picking them up. Phillips said he had some of his men keep an eye on the motel just in case we sent some of our men there. In the second place, we let him fleece them first in return for his cooperation. And in the third place—”

  “In the third place I’d string him up by his nuts.”

  “Yes sir. Then the plan went awry. The Blues figured out the scam. They threatened Phillips. Armstrong, Foote, and Wrenn came storming in and threatened him and his secretary if they weren’t given maps and the truth about the border crossing. They left with quite a few documents: maps, civil patrols, and everything they needed to develop their own plans. Phillips told me everything after they left, including how Joanne, the secretary, told him about the false border fence.”

  “Then what happened? Did you send people over to the motel to pick them up?”

  “I’m coming to that sir. When we had Moore, one of our engineers, working with a programmer, modified his phone. We worked out an alert system. Whenever a transmission begins, we’re alerted; and when we turn on the decryption machine, the call is decrypted, and we can listen in on the conversation, just as if the call was made to us. The only thing we can’t do is transmit. It is just a listening device.”

  “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

  “We were discussing how to approach the situation when the alert system sounded, sir. Pamela Piper called her brother in Sick America, using Moore’s phone. My team listened in on the conversation. They revealed their plans to Henry. Now, we can do two things. We can plan our raid better, knowing where they’d all be, and we can step up security on their escape route, just in case they get away again. Either way, we’ll have them tonight.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  The Pilgrims, as they began calling themselves, mostly went to their rooms. Chad stayed up, and after a while, decided to look in on each. He began with his own men, who continued to room together. Both were exercising and joking with each other. Wrenn was reciting a little ditty.

  “The men were put on high alert

  When Molly Brown hiked up her skirt.

  With a wiggle of her hip and a laugh so hearty,

  The men gathered close to her, ready to party.

  When she bent over to show us her art

  She wiggled her fanny and let out a fart.”

  Chad knocked on the O’Reillys’ door and Ray answered. Cassandra was lying in bed, watching TV. “Hi, Cass.”

  “Hi, Chad.”

  Ray just gave him a big bear hug and told him to come in. “How’s it going, Ray?”

  “All ready and rarin’ to go. How’s everybody else doing?”

  “Well, I thought I’d start with your room. You’ve really done a fine job here, as you always did with the Blues.”

  Cassandra got up now and came over to give Chad a hug. “Thanks for all your help, Chad. You came when we really needed you. I don’t think we’d have made it this far without you, Terry, and Jack. You guys are real pros.”

  Chad smiled. “Now, we’ll see you at eleven. Goodnight guys.”

  Armstrong then went to Pamela’s room.

  “Come on in, Chad. I’ve just written my will. The manager’s a notary so I can make it official. I’m mailing it to my lawyer back in Detroit. If I don’t make it, he’ll execute it. I told him that if I make it I’ll find a way to communicate that to him.”

  “We’ll make it. Just a few more hours and we’ll be gone from here, and all the troubles will be behind us.”

  She gave him a hug. “Thank you for all your help, Chad.”

  “See you in a few hours.”

  Armstrong then went to Hayfield’s room. “Just checking in with you, Horace. You doing okay?”

  “Sure, Mr. Armstrong. Come in. There’s somethin’ I want to tell y’all.”

  Armstrong hesitated, but came in.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t contribute to that fund the lawyer was collecting. The truth is I’m broke. I spent most of the money I had trying to get out of here, but I ran into the same scams you did. My account’s been frozen, I’m down to my last few hundred dollars, and I got a car I can’t seem to sell without attracting the wrong kind of people.”

  Chad just listened.

  “I know I won’t win any popularity contests around here. For what it’s worth, I wish I made better decisions. Please tell Gene I’m sorry. He has a right to be angry. He knows what that brain probe can do. I just wanted to help….” His voice trailed off.

  “We’ll be on the other side in just a few hours. Things will look better then.”

  “Thanks for your help, Mr. Armstrong. Once again, I’m sorry for creating so many problems for everyone.” He then tried to smile. “Like the anonymous quote, ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’”

  Chad smiled and wished him a good night. Then he went to Sandy’s room.

  Sandy greeted him warmly and invited him in. “I’ve just been writing a letter to Jay.”

  “Oh?”

  “We’ll be in the new country long before he ever gets it. I have no intention of ever going back to him, knowing now how he ruined my marriage to Fernando.”

&nbs
p; “Is that why you use Menendez as your last name?”

  “Yes. I still feel I really belong to him, even if he’s dead. Jay was good to me, and I never questioned my marriage to him until I started having crazy dreams. Now I know I was actually coerced into marrying him, if that makes any sense.”

  “Absolutely, it does. And you’re welcome to write that letter. I’ll let you get some rest now. Be back at eleven.”

  “Goodnight, Chad.”

  Next, Chad stopped at Eugene’s room.

  “Hi, Chad. Come on in. I just finished talking to Bo, my older brother.”

  “I guess he must miss you.”

  “Yeah, he does. He told me the FBI came to question him, and mom and dad. Now, they feel like fugitives. They want to know where I am. What the hell do I have to do with the FBI? I know why the Squad is chasing me, but the FBI?”

  “It’s a strange world we live in.”

  “It’s a dead world I live in. I lost my wife, was thrown in jail for something I didn’t do, almost had my brain fried, and now the Squad wants me dead. I know it. I feel it right down to the bone. Now, here I am—no job, no freedom, and maybe about to be killed. All I ever wanted was a normal life: wife, couple of kids, good job. I had that, except for the kids, and now it’s all gone, and I can’t quite comprehend just why. Oh, intellectually, I understand, but emotionally, no. I was never very political, despite being a friend of Professor Zinney. Apparently, some people think I plan to work with him, to overthrow the country, should I get over to the other side. Well, after jail, Hell House, and Hogs, I’d do it, if I knew how.”

  Chad just laughed. “Yeah, I know what you mean. These people who own the government get pretty paranoid.”

  “What are we going to do when we get over there? Only Pamela has any money. Maybe Haystacks and that senator.”

  “None claim to have much money, except Pamela. I wouldn’t worry about it though. Before they started barricading the place, people came and went all the time. I had a buddy who went there just to check it out. He said that even if you showed up penniless they’d take care of you. Besides, Pamela’s loaded. She said she’d reimburse us when we get over there. Well, let me check up on Ev. Get some rest.”

  He then knocked on the senator’s door. “Well, Ev, it looks like you’ll finally make it over there, after all.”

  “You know, Chad, I had a decent career over here until I got caught. Now it’s cut and run, or go back to Hell House. Maybe if I’m lucky they’ll just put a bullet in my head.” He paused with his head downcast. “I don’t even know if my wife thinks I’m alive or dead. She’s over there waiting for me. I wish I could phone her. I tried, but the call won’t go through.”

  “Hang in there, and never give up hope. One thing I know is that everything changes. Watch for it and watch for your opportunity. Now, get some rest.”

  As Chad Armstrong began to leave there was a commotion. Someone was yelling, but he couldn’t understand what was being said. Then he heard someone else yell, and then someone else yelling back. The one thing he was sure of was that the shouting was getting closer. Moore came back out to find out what was going on, but Armstrong pushed him back inside, and then followed him in.

  The commotion became louder and more intimate. Now he could hear a clear voice. It was loud and commanding. He knew at once it was some sort of authority. He had to think quickly. He’d started to reach for his phone when the door opened. Standing before him was the manager and a Squad leader.

  “Mr. Armstrong, I presume,” the Squad leader said. “And Senator Moore. How good to meet you both. I’ve heard so much about you, especially you, Chad.” Armstrong was unarmed; the squad leader was.

  “Oh, I guess you want me to introduce myself. I’m McElroy, Brigade Commander of the Local Battalion. You can call me Mac. No need to concern yourself with the specifics. I’m not here legally anyway.” Then he laughed. “Well, legal or not, I got the gun. Come on out, you two, and join the party.”

  Armstrong and Moore were led alongside the parking lot in front of this wing of the inn. “Everybody here?” he yelled to his two men. One brandished a rifle and laughing, and the other a handgun. They counted heads and carried pictures.

  Christ, thought Armstrong, they seem to know everything about us. It must be that weasel lawyer. Damn, how did I underestimate him?

  Mac then addressed the group. “Listen up! Each one of you is going to be taken back to Squad territory. You’re wanted for multiple felony counts including murder. We’re going to process you out of here, two at a time.”

  As Mac was making his speech, Armstrong assessed the situation. Only three of them? They do know who we are. That’s obvious. If it were me, I’d have at least three men on the roof with rifles trained on us. But there’s no one but them. Foote saw me and shook his head as if to confirm there were no snipers. Mac seems to be a legitimate leader but the young lad with the rifle is scared. Oh, sure, I saw him laughing at the sight of us—scared, angry, and confused—but he’s scared too. Look at that right leg shake. He keeps moving around so no one will notice, but that’s nothing that’d be lost on my sharpies, as well as Ray and Cass. He’s the weakling of the squadron.

  Mac called for Eugene and Pamela. The guy with the handgun got careless as he put the gun in his belt and whipped out plastic cuffs.

  Christ, I wished I still had my Berretta on me, thought Armstrong.

  Eugene started walking toward Mac. Christ, he has steely confidence.

  Just then, with unexpected suddenness, Eugene Sulke whipped a Berretta from behind and fired at Mac’s midsection, and before the other guy could get his gun out of his belt, Eugene shot him as well. Junior froze, not knowing what to do. It gave Eugene a chance to run. He ran around the corner of the motel. Junior got off a shot, but missed. Jesus Christ, thought Chad. Has Eugene been hanging around us too much? He figured out everything. It was beautiful. He must have heard the commotion, and put the gun behind him. He assessed the situation better than me. He knew he was only about twenty feet from the corner of the motel. Enough time to get away. But there’s work to do. The second guy was only winged.

  Mac was on his knees with gun in hand. He tried to turn around and return fire, but twisting around was impossible. Pain shot through his whole body. His heart began racing, his skin turned pale, and his face became contorted with the pain. He began sweating profusely. “Get that fucker.” Mac’s voice was stressed and gravelly. The wounded man chased after Eugene. That left junior and a badly wounded Mac to cover the group—five of them Blues.

  Come on, Mac. Hurry up and die, will ya? With Mac gone, Junior will panic. One of the Blues will get him. Look at Junior. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s about to shit his pants, but that makes him dangerous too. Inexperienced people will start shooting at anybody when they get scared enough.

  Mac just glared at everyone. He tried to look commanding, if for no other reason than to reassure the kid. He knew he needed him to calm down. He called out to him. “Keep that rifle trained on ‘em, Bernie. If anyone so much as moves, shoot ‘em.” But Mac couldn’t fool any Blue. The kid’s eyes were shooting out of his head.

  Then Armstrong felt someone poke his back. He noticed Ray and Cassandra were out of his sight. They probably have a plan. Look at Wrenn over there, with the smirk on his face. He knows what’s going on. Ray and Cass will need cover. Will he provide it?

  Junior kept waving the rifle around. Mac just stared forward, breathing ever more rapidly. Ray kicked him in the back. Mac moaned something.

  “All right, I’m coming,” yelled Wrenn.

  Junior fell for the ruse.

  Wrenn came up to Mac, who looked surprised at seeing him. Wrenn just stood there, looking scared. Junior’s vision of his boss was blocked. Cass reached over his left shoulder with two hands locked together by thumbs. With palms down, she came down hard on the gun, pushing it down to the ground. She made sure the barrel didn’t point up. At the same time, Ray put a shoelace around Mac
’s neck, jerking it up and back with quick ferocity. Mac let out a slight groan and a whimper. Junior never picked up on it.

  Cassandra wrenched the gun out of the dying Mac’s hand. Mac fought well, but quickly gave up the struggle and slumped back. Cassandra quickly aimed the gun at Junior and fired. Whether Junior woke up to the danger just in time or fired in reaction to being hit is uncertain, but he fired the rifle, and Pamela collapsed to the ground. Cassandra fired a second time and Junior was down.

  Armstrong jumped into action. “Ray, Cass—get your weapons and go after the wounded guy. Go in the same direction Gene went. Wrenn, Foote—do the same, but go toward the office.” They moved quickly. “The rest of you—wait. Who’s missing?”

  “Hayfield,” Moore said. “He followed Gene and the wounded man.”

  “Christ, what the hell is he thinking? Never mind. The rest of you go with Moore. I want all of you together in his room.” Then he gave Moore the piece that Cassandra got from Mac. “Know how to use this?” Moore just stared at it. “The safety is off. All you have to do is aim and pull the trigger. Do not touch the trigger when you aren’t prepared to shoot. Keep your finger on the trigger guard, like this.” Armstrong showed him how to handle the gun. Moore indicated he understood and went with the rest to the room.