Duty With Honor Book Five: An Unexpected Pause

by Jordan Bollinger

  As soon as the rental car left the driveway, Andrew took Beth's hand and said, "Let's go upstairs and get the extra hardware."

  "Oh no!" she told him. "I recognize that look. Besides, the 'extra hardware', as you put it, is hidden in the study -- exactly where you put it."

  Now it was Drew's turn to say, "Spoil sport."

  She didn't pull her hand from his, but she led him off to the study, saying, "We need to find out why Sir Anthony allowed a page of one of Richard's old Christmas card lists to be leaked out and endanger the public. I guess that means I'm going to have to talk to the two of them. And, I don't intend to do that without moral support."

  *****

  "We're home!" Jack called out loudly, as he and Ruth passed through the kitchen and into the dining room. A door slammed above them, and there were footsteps on the stairs. Meanwhile, Andrew came through the swinging kitchen door, closely followed by Helen bearing fresh coffee and another batch of muffins.

  Jack grabbed one as she passed and tossed it between his hands until it was cool enough for him to gobble down as Beth entered from the foyer. She looked at him, laughed, and said, "You are going to turn into a blueberry muffin!"

  Andrew wasted no time with the muffins, instead seizing a Kaiser roll from the bread basket with one hand, as he pulled the cold cut platter over and carefully perused it. He only looked up after he'd sliced his roll, slathered it with mayonnaise and mustard, and was busy stacking thin slices of ham and Swiss cheese on it.

  Finally, he took a huge bite, and apparently satisfied with the bread to ham to cheese ratio, turned to Jack and asked, "Well..."

  "It was just what I was afraid it was -- ricin."

  "Ricin," Beth repeated.

  Ruth asked, "What's ricin?"

  "It's a poison," Beth answered. "But, I thought you had to ingest it. Remember, Andrew, you read us an Agatha Christie story where the old lady killed her niece and nephew or something. And, she'd been giving herself little shots of it to build up an immunity, so she only became sick when she ate some of the poisoned sandwiches. It was a Tommy and Tuppence story."

  "Oh, I remember that one. That's the poison made from castor beans." He thought for a moment, his sandwich hovering mid-air before him, and then he added, "Oh...ricin. In or on pellets. That's how the KGB killed that Bulgarian about twenty years ago. He worked for the BBC and Radio Free Europe. They shot a pellet in his leg, as he waited for a London bus -- with an umbrella."

  "Yep, that's the stuff," Jack acknowledged. Then he added, "The lab guys told me it doesn't even need to be ingested or injected. It can be inhaled, and even absorbed through the skin. The thing is, it's one nasty mother--"

  "Jack!" Ruth cried out, in a very shocked voice -- her eyes wide in astonishment.

  "Ah...oh...sorry. My apologies, ladies," he responded, as color crept up his neck and spread across his face.

  Beth reached out and selected a couple slices of pumpernickel bread, liberally coated them with mustard, and then piles of corned beef and Swiss cheese. Then she passed the platter on to Ruth. "We better eat, and maybe even rest in shifts. We want to be ready when our stalkers arrive."

  Jack bolted down another muffin, and then asked, "So, did you two find out anything from Sir Anthony...or were you busy doing other things?"

  Ruth shot him another disapproving look, but remained silent.

  "I mean, were you able to find anything out from your father or Sir Anthony? Or, were you busy preparing our defenses?" Jack explained, smiling weakly.

  "Nice save, Jack." Beth giggled. "Actually, we did do some defensive work. At least, John did. He found a gold fountain pen -- not nearly so grand, of course. And Helen found some little silver beads at the craft store. They aren't as tiny, but they came in little tubes and we fit one in our fountain pen. It won't pass a close scrutiny, but it should fool someone who either hasn't seen it, or is so apprehensive about it, they don't want to take too close a look."

  "But, did you guys find out anything about the bogus list?"

  She took another bite of her sandwich and said, "Well, apparently, Sir Anthony has had some suspicions about information leaks for a while now. So, he and Father came up with this -- for lack of a better term -- plan." She looked from one man to the other, shook her head, and asked, "Why do I suddenly see you two in another twenty years or so?"

  Drew looked at Jack, then to his wife and stated, "No idea. You were saying..."

  "Apparently, they took one of Richard's old Christmas card lists -- you know how organized he is? And he sends everyone cards -- so he probably has notebooks filled with them -- transferred it to microfilm and cut it up into snippets of lists. And then salted Vauxhall Cross with them. But, they kept this elaborate record of which bit of list was stashed where. If you understand me."

  "I see..." Jack said. And just from the tone of his voice, you knew he didn't see.

  "Well, it seems there is the very teeniest leak -- a dribble, really. Not anything important, but a leak -- never-the-less. And, after the Gregory/Meeker fiasco, the PM wanted it plugged. So Sir Anthony and my father came up with this idea."

  "And," Jack asked, pouring himself more coffee, "is it working?"

  "Apparently," Beth answered. "So far, they've caught half a dozen offenders -- most of them from the janitorial staff. But this particular list was sent to the Public Relations Office.

  "Bridget's faxed us their personnel files -- because, for whatever reason, they aren't included in Sir Anthony's files. The explanation I got was that because they only dealt with information 'for release', they weren't even considered MI-6 employees or swear to the Secrets Act. In fact, they work from an office building on the other side of Vauxhall Cross Bridge."

  "Go ahead, Beth. Tell them the rest," Andrew chided.

  "Yes...well, the building is very close to the cemetery, and I identified my 'friend' as an employee. He probably planned on killing me there, in the cemetery, but never got close enough. Or perhaps, he just lost his nerve. After all, he did leave the other killings to our Ms. Body."

  "Ooh," Jack exclaimed, "I forgot to tell you they've identified her. Her fingerprints were on file, along with her DNA -- from when she was in the British military. Maybe this 'splinter group' consists of British dissidents -- unhappy with the Royals or something."

  "Perhaps," Drew agreed, "but it is very disturbing that they have so very much money and dangerous weapons."

  "Well, the truth is," Beth said, "this ricin isn't hard to make at all -- as long as basic precautions are taken. It's their delivery system that's so subtle, sophisticated, and dangerous."

  "But who's behind these guys?" Jack stressed. "They have more money than sense."

  "There's just something odd about this whole thing," Beth said. "They have all this money and this very complicated and refined method of killing, -- along with what they believe is an MI-6 NOC list, which they store in an obliviously expensive, over-the-top gold pen. And then they lose it.

  "And, since I guarantee that none of the people we've dealt with could remember even one of those account numbers, they had access to even more money -- in order to follow me half-way around the world, to retrieve their lost prize. But, they strangle seven women, mistaking them for me -- a very up close and personal method of murder. So, how did they not realize it wasn't me?"

  "Maybe Jack's 'splinter group' is just that -- a rather scatty group of malcontents, with all together too much money and time on their hands."

  "But there must be someone calling the shots. Granted, they might be the only member of the group that has a clue about what he's attempting -- but there has to be a leader."

  "Well," Drew chimed in, "if they had an agenda -- were actually trying to achieve something, you'd think they'd take credit for every murder. Even the wrong dead body is just that -- a dead body. And would get the public's attention. Why didn't they use them to instill fear in the general public -- make their group known?"

  "Ah..." Ruth began, as if she wasn't su
re she was supposed to speak, "it seems to me that the woman who followed Beth was alone. The man in the cemetery -- Beth's friend, as she calls him -- wasn't there to positively identify their quarry. He described Beth as best he could, and she killed women that matched his description, hoping to find the pen."

  "But, I'm now sure that he was in New Orleans."

  "Well, yes. The woman killed the prostitute, and found all those IDs with your picture on them -- but still no pen. So, I think the man was sent to spot you -- the real you."

  "That has a certain logic to it," Drew said. "And, Ms. Body changed from manual strangulation -- which as you pointed out, is extremely up close and personal -- to a gun, because Beth was no longer alone -- ever."

  Jack jumped up, "And, speaking of guns, come on outside, Ruth. I want to teach you how to shoot -- just in case. You two will excuse us, I'm sure."

  As he led Fitz back through the kitchen, Beth called to him, "Make sure you're on the far side of the stone wall. There's a pile of hay bales with targets on them."

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  "So," Beth asked Ruth, as they climbed the stairs, "how did you do?"

  "I hit the target -- once or twice," Ruth admitted. "I don't think I'll ever win any awards. But, Jack showed me how to load the clip, and how to stuff it into the gun. So, I guess I'll be all right. I mean, as long as I'm pointing in the right directions, it's a deterrent."

  "True," Beth answered, as she opened a door at the top of the stairs, "I've put you two in Richard's room. Drew's already carried your bags up. I'm going to try and sleep for an hour or so. Don't worry. They aren't going to let us sleep through anything."

  She started to leave, stopped, turned around and added, "Oh, and don't ever refer to the magazine as a clip in front of Father. Trust me -- you'll get a lecture and probably be expected to pass a quiz."

  "I'll remember that," Fitz said, smiling.

  "You better, unless you want to be field-stripping a weapon and rebuilding it -- blindfolded. Now, I'm going to try and rest. See you in a while."

  "Thank you, Elizabeth."

  "You're more than welcome, Ruth. And, change into a skirt or pair of slacks with a good waistband. And put a sweater or jacket over it. If you don't have something, let me know and I'll find something of mine.

  "Then, put the gun Jack gave you in the back waistband. It might take a few minutes to get used to it. But, you want to have it, in case you need it. Understand?"

  She was just about to close her own bedroom door, when Drew rushed up the stairs and ducked in before she could shut the door. "Aren't you supposed to be downstairs with Jack? Why are you up here?"

  "I'm going right back. I just wanted to see how Fitz did in her lesson. Jack isn't talking."

  "Well, I get the impression she'll be able to load it and point in the right direction. Don't expect any marksman to emerge."

  "That's fine. It's just a precaution. Now," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, "we're going to put the dogs in the cellar. John and Jack and I decided they'd be safer there then in the kennel. These people aren't very good. And, we wouldn't want them to hurt the dogs needlessly. But, we didn't know about Elvis."

  "Just stick him in here. He'll be fine for a while. Do you think they will be long?"

  "I don't know, but I hope not. Jack's friends gave them the information about where we all are about four hours ago. We know how long it takes to drive from there to here. But, we can't be sure they were able to leave immediately. Still, I'm sure they're on their way. So they could be here any time after," he checked his watch, and answered, "three o'clock. So at least lie down and try to get a little rest. I'd keep you and Fitz up here, but they are going to want to 'see' you, and I'm learning that you have a definite influence over her."

  "What does that mean?"

  "That we wouldn't be able to keep you two upstairs, even if we tried. And, I can't tell if Jack likes this stronger, aggressive Fitz, or not. Although, he does smile a lot and talk about how she's acting a lot like you. So, guess that's good. Isn't it?"

  "Of course."

  "Well, I'm going to need you back downstairs in an hour and a half or so. Maybe you can step out for the mail, or something. You know, give them a chance to see that you are here."

  "All right. You and Jack behave down there."

  "Elizabeth!" he said, in a mock shocked voice, "when have we not behaved ourselves?" Then he kissed her and left -- closing the door tightly behind him, before she could answer.

  *****

  "How do you think they're going to approach us?" Jack asked, as they sat in the living room. Both he and Andrew had their feet up and were doing their best to relax.

  "Who knows? They are so unorganized and erratic," Drew answered, "I wouldn't even hazard a guess." He rubbed his shoulder, adding, "You never said much about the woman."

  "Martha Gilbert was born January 4th, 1969. She finished secondary school and was never in any trouble. She worked at various jobs, until she joined the Royal Navy. She served for four years, but once she was discharged, she pretty much fell off the radar. Although, she does appear to have done some freelance work -- under the name of Mrs. White. So, I'm going to bet she was nothing more than a hired gun.

  "And we have identified Beth's 'friend', as well as his wife -- Jarvis and Mary Burton-Smythe. They were born and raised in London. Married young, but didn't have any children. She worked as a secretary at various London companies, until she died during a mugging, two years ago. However, she isn't buried in that cemetery. So, he was there stalking Liz.

  "He worked for several of the same companies in the advertising and public relations departments. He made the move to the MI-6 public relations group just after his wife died. He claimed that he couldn't work where his wife had anymore."

  "Do you believe that?" Drew asked.

  "Do I believe he just happened to stumble onto a job at an auxiliary of MI-6 by chance? No. He has a bone to pick with your government and sought out this job. I'm sure of it."

  "So, did he take it to avenge his wife's death?"

  "Yes, but I don't believe he intended to do it by working through the right channels for change, any more than you do."

  "Okay, we agree about that. But, did he find an individual or group to pass information on to? Or..."

  "Did they seek him out -- because he was already disgruntled with the status quo and worked somewhere where he might have access to sensitive information?"

  "That is what we have to find out," Jack said with a sigh. "What I think we're going to discover is that they sought him out. Apparently he was supposed to kill Beth first -- because she's top of his list. And, she was alone with him day after day -- at least for fifteen or twenty minutes at a time."

  "Well, not for that long," Beth protested.

  He sighed before he continued, "Okay, but he never even attempted to load the pen nib. Was he afraid of touching it? Or was he unsure about what he was supposed to do? Or did have second thoughts after speaking to her? I don't know."

  "Yeah, well, why don't you go prod Helen into making some coffee -- and to start a kettle for tea. I'm going to go get Ruth up."

  "Yeah," Jack said, standing up stretching, and said, "I guess it is getting to be about 'go' time."

  *****

  "John," Andrew called out the back door, "Would you please move the rental car into the garage. Pull out the Explorer and park the rental in its place. Then park the Explorer in front of the closed garage door."

  John came around from the back of the garage, nodded, and answered, "Right away, sir."

  Once the shifting of cars was finished, John returned to the house through the back door. "I think there's someone down the road a bit. I can't be sure, but I caught sight of the glimmer of metal from a parked car."

  "Thank you, John. You stay in your bungalow. Just watch our backs. You aren't to get involved in this. Have Helen remain in the study. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir. But--"

  "No buts,
John. Just keep the back of the house under surveillance."

  Andrew took Beth by the hand and told her, "I just want you to go out of the door -- just for a second. A quick in and out. That's all. I don't want to give them a chance to shoot you."

  "Yes, Drew."

  "In fact, I don't even want you to go all the way outside. You just open the door, and start to stick your head out. Then I'll call out to you and you duck right back inside. Okay?"

  "Yes," she said with a sigh. "I understand, Andrew."

  She stood at the front door, waited until he was inside the foyer, with his gun drawn. Then she opened the door, stuck her head out and yanked it back in, as Drew yelled, "Beth, come here. I need you." Then she closed and locked the front door, and armed the security alarm.

  Now, they just had to wait and see what happened. Ruth and Jack sat in the living room. And, Beth could see Ruth was getting antsy. That's what worried them all -- that she would either panic and react too soon, or simply not at all. Elizabeth just swallowed hard and trusted Jack to watch out for Fitz.

  God! She hated waiting.

  But then she supposed they all did.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  In the end, they didn't have to wait very long at all. About five minutes after Beth had made her appearance at the front door, Helen came in from the kitchen. "John called me from the bungalow. There are at least two people down the road -- where it bends. They've been waiting beside a rental car for a while now. But, it looks as if they're getting ready to move."

  "Thank you, Helen. You go and wait in the study. But, stay watchful, and if things go south, call 911."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Jack was watching from one of the side glasses. "One's heading up the road towards the front walk. I don't think you should answer the door. When it rings, I'll answer it. You and Ruth go sit in the living room -- and stay away from the windows."

  Andrew watched the road from behind the edge of a drapery covered window. He signaled to Jack, and whispered, "It looks like he's just going to knock on the front door. Wait. There looks like two of them standing behind the hedges."