Jarrod stopped pacing and faced the wall for a moment. “I never could get into that tunnel. I tried every single night, but they had it buttoned up like a fortress.
“I didn’t like it. If this guy was running a legitimate job placement business, why did the kids have to go through a secret tunnel? And why didn’t I see them around the compound?”
Melody’s expression had softened. She listened carefully, dreading where this was going.
Jarrod went on, “I decided to patrol the compound at night. It wasn’t easy avoiding the guards, they were really jumpy whenever Valdano had kids in the tunnel. At night, the guards would load the children into a van with brown bags over their little heads.”
Melody stood up and walked across the room to hug Jarrod from behind.
Jarrod turned to face her. “I still couldn’t prove anything. At least, not right away.
“Some of them didn’t end up on the van,” he explained, anger creeping into his voice. He started to pace again, this time moving faster and gesturing with his hands. “They moved a few of them to the top floor of the main building through a private stairwell. I was allowed anywhere on the compound except upstairs in the main building. When I found out they were taking kids up there, I climbed up the outside and looked in the windows.”
Jarrod grit his teeth. “There had to be two dozen children on the top floor. He picked his favorites to be his personal play things. Valdano was…using them. They were chained up in little room, waiting to be violated by that sick freak.”
Melody covered her mouth with a slender hand. “Why didn't...how did the State Department not know about this?”
“I don't know. I woke Gibson up and told him everything that night. He didn't believe me, but I didn't let up until he agreed to do something about it. The next morning, I had a meeting with Gibson's boss, Ian Harding. He seemed genuinely concerned about the issue, and promised to do something about it right away.”
Jarrod bristled at the memory. “Their solution wasn't what I expected. That evening, two new contractors arrived. Harding confiscated my weapon, my radio, my phone, and even my personal computer. He told me that I would be on a plane the next morning. I could smell a cover-up, and I knew nothing was going to happen to Valdano. The State Department was more concerned about ‘regional stability’ than the lives of a few kids.
“That's when I decided to fix it myself. I knew Valdano kept a late schedule—he was never asleep before one or two o'clock in the morning, and he wouldn't be up before ten. My flight left at six, so I had a few hours to work with. I climbed out of my bedroom window at two in the morning and crept across the compound. I grabbed a couple of tools from the garden shed, then hit the main building. My superiors hadn't let on to Valdano or his men what I knew, probably trying to avoid any awkward conversations. But because of it, none of the codes had changed. I disabled the alarm before climbing the gutter up to the top floor. Then I wedged a screw driver into the top of one of the windows and popped the lock with a knife. Apparently, he felt safe on the top floor, because his bedroom door was wide open. I pulled the laces from his boots...and then I used them to choke the life out of him.”
Jarrod was shaking. Neither of them spoke for nearly a minute. He steadied himself with the back of a chair before finishing. “I whispered to him while I did it. I wanted him to know that he was paying for what he had done.” Jarrod closed his eyes. He left out the fact that, though he could have cut off the blood flow to Valdano’s brain in a few seconds, he had intentionally eased up on the garrote every few seconds. The slow, painful strangulation had taken nearly thirty minutes.
Melody’s eyes were filled with sympathy. “I'm so sorry you went through that. And I know you did what you thought was right. If I was in your shoes I might have...” She glanced toward her sleeping child’s room, then closed her eyes. “I would have done the same thing. But please…tell me none of this can come back to us. Tell me they won't take you away from me.”
Jarrod found his strength returning. He walked over to Melody and embraced her tightly. Rocking her back and forth, he whispered, “I was careful. They wouldn't have let me go if they could prove anything. They can't touch us.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “And I'm done. No more fighting, no more traveling around the world; I am staying right beside you from now on.”
Melody smiled through her tears. “Good. I’d be pissed if I lost you. And Josh...he needs you here.”
Jarrod wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. It felt as if a burden he had carried for days was suddenly gone. Life would be different, but he was ready for a change. He took a deep breath, and savored the feeling that his days of violence were behind him.
5
Because of the seriousness of Jarrod’s news, Melody decided to take a few days off work. She also called Josh's school so he could take an extended weekend. They spent the first two days at home watching television, playing board games, and enjoying Jarrod's cooking. After that, they spent an entire day and more money than they should have at the Charleston Boardwalk.
Jarrod felt like he regained a piece of his soul with each passing moment. Melody returned to work, Josh returned to school, and the daily routine began anew. As the weeks passed, Jarrod started doing odd jobs for neighbors and friends that paid under the table. The manual labor wasn’t exactly lucrative, but it helped him clear his head, and Melody’s salary more than covered their living expenses.
On a comfortable Saturday morning in April, with the sun creeping up over the horizon, Melody and Jarrod sat together on the deck behind the house. Steam rose from their coffee mugs and birds chirped early-morning songs, serenading the couple as they reclined, hand-in-hand. Jarrod took a sip of his coffee and murmured “oh.” Shaking off the hypnotic serenity, he set his cup down and went inside. He returned a moment later with a pamphlet in his hand and handed it to Melody.
As she opened the glossy pages, he said. “What do you think? It feels like forever since we've been on a vacation, and Josh loves the ocean. It would be perfect.”
Melody smiled, and leaned over to give him a kiss. “I think it’s a great idea, and a cruise sounds perfect. The sun, the waves…maybe a massage with some hot stones.” She closed the pamphlet. “I could definitely go for that. We can do it this summer, right after Josh gets out of school.”
Jarrod beamed. “I'll buy the tickets, then” He held mug like it was a glass of champagne and said, “To us.”
The glasses clinked together as the couple toasted a new life.
The next two months were filled with the ordinary, but wonderful monotony of life: an oil change, taking out the garbage, dinner and a movie, a wedding, playing catch in the back yard. Josh's grades began to suffer as summer approached, and his parents scolded him for it. Melody's productivity at work soared, and she was given a promotion that would begin in the fall. Jarrod continued to avoid legitimate employment, but his reputation as a skilled handyman and laborer spread, and he never wanted for work.
The start of summer vacation for Josh meant more time with his father, who worked part time in order to be home during the day. It also meant that their cruise was only a few weeks off. The danger and the thrill in Jarrod's life was gone; he had traded it for the mundane. But he would never go back. Not for anything.
6
“Joshua, you need to get to cover,” Jarrod said into his headset, “they’re closing in on you from the north.”
“I can’t, I’m pinned down!” Josh’s strained voice came through Jarrod’s headset.
Loud pops of automatic gun fire were accompanied by heavy thuds as a dozen 7.62mm rounds struck the rooftop near Jarrod’s face. Keeping his head down, he peered through the high-powered scope on his rifle, searching for the source. He squeezed the trigger twice in quick succession, and a pair of .50 caliber rounds slammed into the gunman’s chest. A single bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.
This would be the day he
watched his son die, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Through his scope, he could see Josh crouching behind a blue 1970’s pickup truck.
“You need to move, Josh. They know where you are, and that truck won’t provide you cover.”
He had barely spoken the words when a puff of gray smoke issued from a window further down the street. He watched, helplessly, as the rocket propelled grenade streaked directly into the pickup truck. It exploded in a ball of dust and flame—Josh’s death was instantaneous.
There was no time for mourning. Jarrod fixed his reticle on the man in the window and dropped him with a single shot, then tossed a grenade into the street below, killing two more enemies. “See? I told you,” he murmured into the headset.
“What was I supposed to do? I was…” The frustration was obvious in Josh’s voice. “Whatever, Mom says we have to turn it off now.”
“You tell your Mother that the fate of the world lies in my hands at this very moment.”
“—Mom, dad says that…”
“No, don’t actually—” Jarrod moaned, jumped out of his seat, and hit the power button on his gaming console.
He rushed out of the den, up the small set of stairs, and into the living room, where he found his wife and son waiting for him.
“Fate of the world?” Melody asked.
“Yeah, well...the fate of my kill ratio at least,” Jarrod replied sheepishly.
Melody rolled her eyes. “Alright, Rambo, we’re headed into town. If you want to come with, you’re going to have to change.”
“What's wrong with...” Jarrod stopped to look down at his cut-off shorts and Superman t-shirt. “Never mind. I'll be right back.” He jogged around the corner and up the stairs.
“I laid something out on the bed for you!” Melody called after him.
Jarrod returned a minute later. He was dressed in a mid-sleeve gray V-neck, cream-colored shorts and ankle length socks. Melody walked around the corner and looked him up and down. “What's with the socks?” She asked. “You were supposed to wear your—”
“Running shoes,” Jarrod interrupted. “You can take my Superman shirt, my shorts, and even my dignity, but you will never take my shoes!” He punctuated the words by raising his fist in the air.
Josh giggled.
Melody turned and looked down at her son. “Don't encourage him, or your father will never grow up.”
Jarrod chuckled and grabbed his worn out jogging shoes. He tied them on, and the trio departed in Melody's car. The thirty-minute drive into downtown Charleston zipped by with excited conversation about the upcoming cruise. In a spontaneous decision, Melody dropped Jarrod and Josh off for laser tag and go-karts so she could go shopping in peace.
Free from the boys, she took her time browsing every store in an outlet mall, making sure to buy both formal outfits and beachwear for everyone. There would be fine dining on the cruise, which Josh would experience for the first time. Jarrod had been to a 5-star restaurant before, but it had been years. She made a mental note to get her husband a new suit, then smiled at the thought of her boys in matching suits and ties.
While she was gone, Jarrod and Josh turned the laser tag arena into a war zone. They played on the same team for the first three rounds and took the top two scores each time. To make it more challenging, they decided to be on opposing teams. In between rounds, they recruited teammates from the arcade, the snack bar, and the go-kart track. Jarrod maintained the top individual score every time, but his team only won two of the next five games.
“It's all about leadership, Dad,” Josh said.
Jarrod stared up at the scoreboard and shrugged. “Leadership has never been my strong suit.”
There was a soft buzzing sound, and Jarrod reached into his pocket. He pulled out his phone and tapped it a few times, then said, “It's your mother, she's here to pick us up.”
“Good,” Josh replied. “I've had enough combat for today.”
“I don't know,” Jarrod said, crouching down. “I think you could handle one more mission. Headquarters just sent it in: an assault on the ice cream shop down the street.”
Josh squinted and nodded his head slowly. “They'll never know what hit 'em.”
Jarrod laughed and led his son out to the parking lot where Melody was waiting for them. She rolled her window down as they approached.
“What happened to you?” she asked. “I didn't know they had a swimming pool in there.”
“No pool,” Jarrod said. He tugged on the front of his shirt, making an audible flapping noise. “This is pure man-musk.”
Josh began pulling on his shirt, too, and Melody looked at them in disgust. “Well, you two are going to have to clean my seats when we get home.”
The sweaty laser-tag warriors agreed, and climbed into the car. They drove a short distance to the ice cream parlor and Melody pulled into the space at the edge of the parking lot.
Jarrod opened his door and said, “Why don't you two stay here? I'll grab what you want and bring it back out. Then we can go over to the park and eat it there.”
Melody sighed, “I guess my car is dirty enough from you swamp monsters; a little ice cream won't hurt. Get me a strawberry smoothie.”
“Strawberry smoothie. Got it. How about you, buddy?”
“I want a caramel fudge sundae with chocolate sprinkles, please,” Josh replied.
“Got it, plain vanilla in a cup. I'll be right back.” He gave Melody a quick kiss and went inside A few minutes later, he emerged with a strawberry smoothie, a caramel-fudge-sundae with chocolate sprinkles, and a mint-chocolate-chip cone in his hands. Balancing the sugary treats, he looked across the parking lot. Josh had climbed into the front seat, and was making faces at him. Jarrod made a face back and smiled. As he basked in parental bliss, he failed to notice the roar of the diesel engine.
In the last moment, his gaze shifted toward a red semi-truck. It barreled down the street and blew through a stop sign, gaining momentum and jumping the curb at the edge of the parking lot.
Jarrod lost his grip on the sweet desserts, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. Relentlessly, the truck plowed onward, then the screech of bending steel pierced the air. The truck hit the driver's side of the Mercedes like a battering ram, plowing it into the SUV parked next to it and forcing the SUV into the next car down. The shattering impact set off every car alarm in the lot.
For a few seconds, Jarrod was paralyzed. It can’t be real. None of this is real.
An instant later he snapped back into reality and started to scream. “Help! Someone please help!”
To Jarrod’s surprise, the first thing that moved was the semi-truck. It backed up, pulling the Mercedes along with it. The mangled car finally pulled free when it came into contact with the curb, and the semi backed into the street. It straightened out, and its engine roared as it sped off. Jarrod paid no attention to the perpetrator of the hit-and-run. He sprinted over to the wrecked Mercedes and yanked on the passenger side door.
“No, please no!” he shouted. The damaged hinges would not yield, but he kept pulling with all his might. “Joshua! Joshua, look at me. Please, son, open your eyes!”
A crowd gathered. Some of the bystanders made phone calls, others recorded videos of the grotesque scene. The rest stood silently, unsure of what to do.
Jarrod only stopped pulling when he heard a whimper from inside the car.
“Dad…what happened?”
Jarrod leaned in through the broken window and held Josh's face. “It's okay, son. There was an accident, but everything is going to be alright.”
Blood streamed into Josh’s eyes from a cut in his forehead. “Dad, I can't see. Where is Mom? Is she okay?”
Jarrod looked over at his wife and choked. Her head sagged on her shoulder and her wide, lifeless eyes looked straight at him.
“Mommy's fine, baby.”
Josh wiped the blood from his eyes and looked at his father. “Don't cry, Daddy. It was just an accident. We
’ll be okay as long as we stay together, right?”
Joshua’s eyes fluttered for a moment and he whispered, “I'm sorry, Daddy. I’m just so tired. I think it’s bedtime. Goodnight, Daddy…I love you...”
“No.” Jarrod gripped the boy’s face tighter. “No, no, no, no! Joshua, keep your eyes open!”
Josh didn’t respond; his head lolled onto his chest.
Jarrod grabbed his son’s shoulders and squeezed hard. “Please! Please, God, not my baby boy. Don’t take him away from me!”
In that moment, Jarrod’s son died, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
7
Special Agents Chan and Glassman sped down the interstate in an unmarked gray sedan.
Chan tilted his head toward the driver’s seat and said, “We should be there in fifteen minutes, tops. Take this next exit.”
Glassman nodded and flicked on the turn signal.
“I didn’t think we'd ever see this guy again, did you?” Glassman asked, peering at Chan over the top of his dark sunglasses. “Small world, isn’t it? I mean, we suspected that he offed that fat pervert, but couldn’t pin it on him. Now we’re on our way to pick the guy up because his family’s dead. Pretty big coincidence, if you ask me.”
Chan shrugged. “No use speculating. The local cops have the truck driver in custody. The guy has two DWI’s on his record, and the banged up rig was parked in his driveway. They gave him a breathalyzer, and he blew a point zero-nine. He claims he'd been passed out in bed at the time of the accident, but nobody’s buying it.”
Forging the Nightmare Page 3
