by JC Ryan
During the Wednesday morning and afternoon trips, he got his first two fly-fishing lessons from the members of his elite fraternity, and early on Thursday morning, he caught the first trout of his life. He was hooked on fly-fishing from that moment.
Esther immediately found camaraderie and friendship amongst her peers, Susan, Emma, Sally, Nancy, Martha and Bess. Within two days, she felt as if she had known them for years.
No illusions
On a Thursday morning at about 10 am, the Sheriff of Putnam County and his deputy arrived at the Harper’s residence for their weekly visit. It took three minutes to comprehend what they were looking at, and for the sheriff to phone Jonathan Lucas, director of the secret services in the USA, to tell him what he found.
Lucas asked the sheriff to make sure that the news of the escape did not leak out to anyone under any circumstances. He would personally handle the situation from that point onwards. When the call ended, Lucas was shaking with fear. He'd assisted James Gordon to chip his predecessor, Robert Wilson, and was present when the six Boise agents were executed for their failure to guard Sam Lewis. He had no illusions about the fate awaiting him.
He looked around his desk, collected a few items, picked up his car keys, and left the office. Within an hour, he reached the outskirts of Washington. He'd already destroyed his mobile phone and disabled the GPS tracking device on his car. He was heading for Mexico, from where he would attempt to escape by boat to a secret hideaway in the Andes Mountains of Chile that he knew of.
By 1 pm, the security center in Washington noticed that the video and motion detector feeds from the Harper residence had stopped sending messages. The staff member reported this to his manager who immediately contacted the sheriff's office in Putnam County. The sheriff told him that the director of security, Jonathan Lucas, had been handling the matter since ten that morning already. The manager found that strange. As far as he knew, the feeds had only stopped working a few minutes ago. How did the director know about it almost three hours before the feeds went down? That was a question for his boss to investigate.
His manager immediately called Jonathan Lucas whose secretary informed him that Lucas had left the office shortly after ten and patched the call through to his cell phone, which went to Lucas’ voice mail. He decided to call the deputy director of security. The deputy director was very surprised - he didn’t have any knowledge about Lucas' involvement in anything related to the Harpers. Anything to do with the Harpers was a serious matter, and he should have been informed. He was worried.
When the deputy director couldn't get hold of Lucas either, he phoned the sheriff of Putnam County himself and got the shock of his life. For a few moments after the call ended, he contemplated a hasty departure. He knew all too well what happened to those who let Sam Lewis get away. However, after a while he managed to convince himself that he was not to blame for this fiasco. Nevertheless, he remained apprehensive.
At 3 pm Washington time on Thursday afternoon – 9 pm in Brussels – Liu Chen, the director of BOSS, answered his cell phone. Chen listened in absolute silence to the deputy director's report. When he finished, Chen instructed him to talk to no one about it. He would handle the situation from here and would call upon the deputy when necessary. He also told the deputy to make absolutely sure that the sheriff and his deputy kept their mouths shut.
Liu Chen had been present at James Gordon's chipping ceremony, and he had no illusions about the treatment that awaited him.
He turned around, looked at the naked woman in the bed next to him and said, "Anastasia, we have a lot of trouble."
Anastasia Oriov, the director of the Bureau of Information and Political Affairs (BIPA), despite the effects of the heroin shot she took earlier, could see that her lover was a troubled man. As he told her what happened, the blood drained from her face. By the time, Liu Chen finished his report, she was as pale as bleached linen. They stared at each other. Then Liu got up, put his clothes on, went to the bathroom, combed his hair, adjusted his tie, and walked back into the bedroom where he put his suit jacket on. He stood at the end of the bed, took out his 9 mm Beretta, and put it to his head. His last words before his brains speckled the wall to his left were, "Goodbye, Anastasia."
Anastasia looked at the mess and considered her options. She had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. She had no illusions about what awaited her in the very near future. President John Brideaux was very clear about that the last time something like this happened. She opened the drawer of her bedside table, took the needle and syringe out, and filled it to the brim with a cocktail of heroin and valium. She found the big vein in her left arm and inserted the needle.
On Friday morning, the Supreme Council was in session, but the seats of Liu Chen and Anastasia Oriov were empty. Nonappearance at his meetings was something John Brideaux hated with a passion. When he called a meeting, he expected people to be there, and anyone being absent without an excuse was more than his personality could handle.
He screamed into the intercom to his secretary, “Get hold of those two lazy bastards now. They most probably fucked the entire night and had too much drugs and booze. Tell them to get their asses over here immediately!”
Half an hour later, the secretary walked into the meeting room with a worried look on his face. “Did you get them? When will they honor us with their royal presence?” Brideaux wanted to know.
“Sir, I am afraid it’s not good news. They were both found dead in Miss Oriov’s apartment.”
“Dead! What the fuck! Get the detectives onto it immediately and report back to me once you know what’s going on.” Brideaux ordered his secretary, turned back to the meeting attendees, and said, “Where were we?”
Senior inspector Jean Baptiste le Clercq stared at the scene in the bedroom of Anastasia Oriov’s apartment as he tried to reconstruct the events that led up to the mess in front of his eyes. No forensic staff or anyone else was allowed to enter the room yet. Le Clercq saw no evidence of a struggle. The gun was still in the dead man’s hand and the naked woman still had the needle and syringe stuck in her left arm. After fifteen minutes of observation and checking things, he concluded that it was a double suicide. There was nothing left but to try and find out why two of the most powerful and privileged people in the world would commit suicide.
He invited the forensic team in to come and do their job, while he phoned Brideaux’s Secretary to report to him that it was probably suicide and that the forensic team was busy collecting all the evidence. It would take a few days to gather and analyze everything before he would be able to report back.
When Brideaux got the note from his secretary, he read it and looked up to the council members and said with a grin on his face, “Well that’s it then. Sounds like we have to get ourselves new directors for BOSS and BIPA to replace those two stupid assholes who killed themselves last night. Any suggestions?”
Two of the council members looked at each other in a fleeting moment of concealed disgust at Brideaux’s reaction to the death of their colleagues. The man was a heartless and insensitive animal.
Nothing was reported in the media. Weeks later, people would learn that Chen and Oriov had resigned their positions and had been replaced.
The vows
Midday on the Friday, Owen, Alison, Peter and Kelly had their gear packed for a weekend in the Gallatin National Forest. Owen and Alison were very excited for two reasons. It was going to be the first time they would see the Rabbit Hole, and they were invited to attend a very special occasion.
Kelly and Peter were excited to see their Rabbit Hole family again, but they were more excited about the fact that Saturday was their wedding day. Not only were the two of them going to make their wedding vows, but also Aaron and Cindi would be joining them at the altar to do the same. The people at the Rabbit Hole were also excited; a double wedding was not something that many of them had ever attended.
After dark, the four of them arrived at the Rabbit Hole and were welcomed by a ju
bilant crowd.
David, Salome’s older brother and his wife and two girls had in the meantime been added to the numbers in the Rabbit Hole. Owen and Peter had airlifted them earlier in the week from the safe house in Minneapolis. Another twenty-one souls would be added to their numbers over the next two weeks.
Peter was pleased to see how well the Harpers had been received and how well they'd adapted to their new home in just a few days.
“Mr. President, I was wondering if you’ve made any good friends around here lately.” Peter inquired, smiling as he remembered his thoughts many months ago about how well the president would fit in with the musketeers.
“Peter, first of all, please call me by my first name. Everyone here has been doing so since we asked them. Second, to answer your question; yes, I have made a few special friends, but it is top secret.” Nigel laughed.
“I am an ex-CIA agent, Nigel, and I have top-secret clearance. You can tell me,” Peter replied.
“Oh well, I guess I can trust you then. You see there is this top secret society here that call themselves the musketeers. It’s an elite organization, and membership is strictly by invitation. Man, and that induction ritual is something else. I almost lost my voice and my breath. You have to be a tough man to get through that,” Nigel explained as Peter laughed so much he had to sit down.
That night and the next morning, the Rabbit Hole was like an ants’ nest as everyone was running around to get everything in place for the big event that afternoon. No one brought formal clothes with them when they moved to the Rabbit Hole. The wedding couples were happy to be married in informal clothes. Sushma, an ex-glossy magazine model and clothes designer, however, could not resist the challenge. She’d made two beautiful white dresses for the brides out of fabric Alison got and smuggled to her weeks ago without anyone knowing.
Early Saturday morning, the two brides were taken to Sushma and Raj’s quarters where the final adjustments to their dresses were made, and they would be made up and pampered for their big day.
At two o’clock on Saturday afternoon, Felix Mendelssohn’s wedding march started playing in the Robert Cartwright Town Hall. The guests all rose as two very proud men, John Mendenhall with Cindi at his side, and Nigel Harper with Kelly at his side, appeared in the doorway. In the center of the hall two more very proud men, Peter and Aaron, looked at their approaching brides in absolute astonishment.
Sam, who was a justice of the peace and therefore ex officio accredited to conduct wedding ceremonies, smiled as he looked at the couples with fondness. He remembered that it was not too long ago when his beloved Susan walked towards him in a chapel in Boise, Idaho. He was especially proud of the two agents who served him and their country so well, not only during all those years they worked for him while he was in the CIA, but in the recent months again.
The feasting and dancing went on into the wee hours of the next morning. Owen was the master of ceremonies and had them shrieking with laughter at all his witticisms and anecdotes. When the grooms made their speeches, they both remembered to thank Sarah Rossler for her help and guidance to find the loves of their lives.
Absolute power corrupts absolutely
On the next Wednesday afternoon, Jean Baptiste le Clercq received the forensic reports and studied them carefully. His first conclusion was correct. The traces of gunpowder on Chen’s right hand and only his fingerprints on the weapon made it clear that he was the one who pulled the trigger. Only Oriov’s fingerprints were found on the syringe, which made it clear that she was the only one who handled it. He was therefore satisfied there was no foul play involved. The two of them died within a few minutes of each other, most probably a suicide pact.
The question that remained was why did they do it? What drove them to such a drastic step? The blood analysis showed they’d both used drugs and alcohol on the night of their deaths. It didn’t seem to be a good enough reason to commit suicide. He was stumped.
He looked through the list of their personal belongings and the accompanying photos but couldn’t find anything that would lead him to the answer. There were no phone records among the evidence. He called the senior officer in charge of the forensic team and was informed that he required special clearance from the Supreme Council to access the phone records. Le Clercq phoned Brideaux’s secretary and explained what he wanted. On Thursday morning, he had the phone records in his hand. The last call Oriov received was at six o’clock on the night of her death; Chen’s last call came from Washington, less than an hour before his death.
He picked up the phone and called the number in Washington. Brad Johnston, deputy director of security in America, answered. Brad was a worried and very nervous man. He'd dealt with many crises in the last week. His director, Jonathan Lucas, had disappeared without a trace, and he was left to do two people’s work.
The entire American police force and every security and law enforcement agency found themselves up to their asses in alligators because of the turmoil caused by the new financial system introduced by the Supreme Council. No one had time to look for Lucas. His phone never stopped ringing. It was one crisis on top of another, and he was tired and fed-up. He couldn’t remember when the last time he’d slept was. Now he had to talk to a cop from Belgium whose French accent was so thick he could hardly comprehend what the man was saying.
Le Clercq had to repeat almost every sentence he was saying to Johnston, however, slowly he was getting parts of his message across. “Yes, monsieur, that is what I said. Directors Liu Chen and Anastasia Oriov are dead. I am investigating the reason for their deaths.”
“Shit man, I don’t know what you want from me. I was in Washington all the time. How the fuck can I help you solve a murder in Brussels?” Brad asked as he started to feel a little uneasiness in his stomach. He didn’t know why, but he felt taking a superior attitude might help.
“No, no, monsieur, not murder, suicide. Both of them,” Le Clercq explained.
“Even more so then. What the hell can I have to do with that? Can we please get to the point now? I have a lot more shit to deal with over here than you can ever imagine.”
“Monsieur Johnston, you were the last person to speak to Director Chen on his mobile phone before he died. Between the end of your call and his death was less than an hour,” Le Clercq said.
The penny dropped for Brad Johnston in that moment. “Oh … my … God! The mother of all fuckups!” Johnston screamed.
“Pardon, monsieur. What did you say?” Le Clercq asked. The phone went silent as he waited for Johnston to answer his question, but nothing came. “Are you still there monsieur Johnston?”
“Listen, Le Clercq. This is way above your pay grade and mine. I will call President Brideaux’s secretary now. You can make your way over to him, and he can tell you what’s going on if he wants to. I don’t have any more time to talk to you.” Johnston threw the phone down and dropped his head into his hands.
That was why Lucas disappeared. He understood the consequences for him when Brideaux heard about this. That was why Chen and Oriov suicided. They knew what was going to happen to them when Brideaux heard about this. It had been a week since he reported the disappearance of the former president and his wife. Brideaux and the Supreme Council were still clueless.
“What a complete and utter fuckup! Those who were supposed to take responsibility for this mess are either on the run or dead. I am all that's left to take the fallout. How am I to escape this? What are my options?” A battle was raging in his mind while one cold shiver after another was trickling down his spine.
Brad Johnston knew he didn’t have any more information than what the sheriff gave him. The Harpers had escaped, and there was no trace of the agents who were supposed to guard them. Was he supposed to know more? Was it his duty to get more information? He’d been told by Liu Chen to butt out and wait until he was called upon.
After a few minutes, he called Brideaux’s secretary and told him what he knew and what he had done about the situation fr
om the moment he learned about it right up until this call. He also gave him the sheriff’s and his deputy’s contact details.
When the call ended, Brad Johnston grabbed the muscles in his neck and shoulders to squeeze them in an attempt to get rid of the tension cramps. When he rubbed the muscle below his right collarbone, he remembered the chip and immediately stopped, he didn’t want to disturb the damn thing and cause his own death. He then also remembered that he had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide and immediately abandoned all earlier notions of following in the footsteps of his missing director. In their department it was only Jonathan Lucas who was privileged enough not to be chipped, and he had used that privilege. How he hated the damn chip - how he hated to work for this government. He loathed every member of the Supreme Council. He detested this entire new world order, and above all was his total contempt for that animal, John Brideaux.
Three hours after his conversation with Brideaux’s secretary, a horde of investigators, police, and officials descended in helicopters on the Harper’s farm.
Four thousand three hundred and twenty-eight miles away, in The Berlaymont in Brussels, the Supreme Council was in an emergency session. They nervously perched on the edge of their chairs as they expected to see their leader going mad at any moment. However, nothing was forthcoming; John Brideaux was as calm as a planted landmine.
“Sheriff okay, keep cool. Nothing will happen to you or your deputy. You did your job well, and you will be rewarded for that. Now, tell me what did you find on the first day when you arrived on the scene?” Brideaux said in a sweet and friendly voice. The call was on speaker so everyone in the room could hear.
The anxious sheriff explained in detail what he found and what he reported to Lucas and then later to Johnston. He made sure that he told them again that he didn’t discuss the discovery with anyone, as he was ordered, and neither did his deputy.
