by Sharon Sala
“No,” Charlie said. “Wyrick found it.”
All eyes turned to the woman sitting beside him.
“Would you enlighten us as to how you made that happen in such a short time?” Hank asked.
“I google a lot,” Wyrick said. “I’m good at it.”
They were waiting for details, but when she didn’t offer them, he pushed for more.
“Could you please elaborate on that?” Hank asked.
Wyrick glanced up at Charlie.
“It’s okay. Tell as much as you want,” he said.
She shrugged. “It’s all a process of common sense and elimination. There were tons of people on psychic websites wanting to join it, but I began searching for names of people who’d left it. I finally found a link to a federal prisoner named Peter Wendell Long, who’d been convicted of kidnapping his niece to take to Fourth Dimension. I told Charlie. He wanted to interview him, so he made some calls to the federal prison in Phoenix where Long is incarcerated, and I flew him there.”
Hank glanced at Charlie. “You have your own plane?”
“No. Wyrick owns the chopper, among other things. Working for me is her hobby,” he said.
Wyrick glared at him. “I’d hardly call you a hobby. More like a reclamation project.”
Charlie grinned.
The men laughed.
Hank was intrigued, but went back to the subject. “So you interviewed Peter Long?”
Charlie nodded.
Hank frowned. “We interviewed him numerous times, but he refused to divulge anything about the group. How did you get him to talk?”
“He didn’t,” Charlie said.
Chavez frowned. “Then how the hell did you find this location?”
Charlie shrugged. “Where I go, Wyrick goes. She had previously given me a list of questions to ask him, so I asked. He didn’t answer any of them, but I kept going down the list of questions.”
“What were the questions?” Chavez asked.
“First I asked if he would just give us the name of the state. Then I asked if Fourth Dimension was in a city or a rural area, and asked for a description of the place. Then I asked for the name of the closest town to it. He answered none of them. The last question was the only one he responded to, and it made him angry. I asked if the group had anything to do with human trafficking and he got very angry...said it was nothing like that, that the group was pure and had good intentions, or something to that effect. His anger ended the interview. They took him back to his cell and we left.”
Hank Raines had been watching Wyrick’s face the whole time Charlie was speaking. He’d never seen anyone mask all emotion in quite the same way. But she knew something. He could feel it.
“So what am I missing here? He didn’t tell you anything and yet here you are. You want our help, then don’t give us but half the story.”
“The rest of this is for Wyrick to tell, because I came out of that interview with no more info than when I’d gone in,” Charlie said.
Wyrick had known this was inevitable and was willing to give up this much of herself so they could save the girls.
“I have a number of skill sets. Research is just one of them. Another one is something like intuition on steroids. With every question Charlie asked, Long immediately thought of the answers. He was picturing them in his mind every time, and I saw them...heard them...however you want to describe it. So the first thing I got was Kentucky, then heavily wooded areas...and the town Shawnee Gap. It wasn’t until Charlie asked about human trafficking that I saw the rest of it.”
“So it is human trafficking?” Hank asked.
“No. They’re not selling anyone,” Wyrick said. “They’re using them for breeding, with the intention to raise a race of people with psychic powers. And the only way these men get their own bride is to donate a female member from their family bloodline for someone else.”
The men took the news like a punch to the gut.
Raines felt all the blood drain from his face, and took a quick sip of his coffee, hoping to settle the sudden nausea bubbling at the back of his throat.
“We have satellite and drone photos of young teens with babies. So are you saying those babies are theirs?” he asked.
Wyrick nodded.
Hank got up and rummaged through some files on a nearby desk and then pulled out some pictures and slid them across the table at Charlie and Wyrick.
“The little girls...the ones who are walking in a line here. Tell me about them.”
“Those are the donations. They bring them young, before they’ve reached puberty, because they want them pure. And they’re not allowed to be a wife to one of the men until they’ve had their first menstrual period, which means an early maturing ten-or eleven-year-old qualifies for breeding, and if there are girls holding babies, it’s unlikely any of them are older than fourteen or fifteen.”
“Sweet baby Jesus,” Willis said, and got up and walked out of the room.
Hank was still struggling. “And you know this because you saw it?”
“I believe we’ve already spoken to this fact,” Wyrick said.
Hank frowned. “Charlie...you believe this, too?”
“I’m gonna try not to take this as an insult on her behalf since you just met her,” Charlie snapped. “But she is the pivotal reason we found Carter Dunleavy so quickly when he went missing. I’ve trusted her with my life more than once, and she’s never missed the mark or let me down. She found my lost ass in a Florida swamp a year or so back. I had a dislocated shoulder and a hundred-and-four-degree fever. It was as close to dead as I’d ever been. I didn’t have anything to signal anyone with, and the battery was long gone in my cell phone. I finally came out of my fever enough to tie my shirt to a tree branch hanging over a bayou. Hours passed, and just when I was about to give up all hope, she was there. I cannot describe the sense of relief I felt when I saw that chopper flying treetop level down that bayou and her at the controls. I don’t remember much after that,” Charlie said.
“Damn,” Hank said. “Ma’am, my apologies.”
“I don’t need them,” Wyrick said. “What do you need from us to get a search warrant?”
“We’ve been hoping for some photos of the girls that were sharp enough to use for facial recognition. If we could match any of them to the ones in the missing children database, we could get the warrants we need.”
Wyrick immediately thought of her remote control plane. It was a prototype she’d made during chemo treatments for something to do, thinking it might be the next generation of drones, but then she’d gotten well and packed it away. She wondered why they hadn’t used drones, then Charlie asked the question for her.
“What about using drones? What about giving cameras to the men you have on stakeout?” Charlie asked. “Trees are everywhere. Climb one and wait for the opportunity.”
Barry had been noticeably silent until now.
“Don’t think we haven’t tried, but drones couldn’t tell us any more than we already know from satellite imaging. And we climbed the tallest trees we could get to without being seen, but the trees are so damn thick we couldn’t get a clear view of much of anything. And if we moved closer, even with a telescopic lens on the camera, the angles are all wrong. Whoever designed that compound knew how to maintain secrecy.”
Wyrick needed to do some research before she said anything else. “I need a place to work,” she said.
“You can use this table,” Hank said.
Wyrick edited her first comment. “A private place to work.”
Hank waved that away. “There are a couple of spare rooms upstairs. You’re both welcome to use them while you’re here.”
“May I use your Wi-Fi signal, or do I need to use my satellite feed?” Wyrick asked.
Once again, the men were speechless.
“You have
your own satellite?” Chavez said.
“Not exactly. Just an agreement that I can use one in particular at my discretion,” Wyrick said. “I assure you it’s all on the up-and-up.”
“Damn, Charlie, you must be one generous employer,” Hank said.
Charlie shook his head. “She’s in a whole other tax bracket of her own.”
Wyrick didn’t want them digging into her background, and gave them just enough to satisfy their need to snoop.
“I have businesses. One of my more lucrative ones is designing and creating computer games. Now, about that Wi-Fi?”
“Yes, feel free,” Hank said.
“Are your bags in the car?” Barry asked.
“Yes,” Charlie said, and when Wyrick started to get up, he stopped her. “You can have the rest of my cookies. We’ll get the bags, and you’re welcome.”
She ignored the offer until he went out the door, then she folded the rest of them up in the paper napkin to take upstairs.
* * *
Tara had gone out to get the mail and was on her way back inside when her phone began to ring. She pulled it out of her pocket, praying it would be Charlie with news, but it came up caller ID unknown.
“Hello?”
“Tara, it’s me, Jud.”
She gasped and then started screaming. “You sorry bastard! Where’s my baby? Where’s Jordan? I want to talk to her now! Put her on the phone!”
He winced. “I deserve every name you can call me, but just listen to me. I don’t have her anymore, and I need your help.”
And as he began to explain, Tara realized every horror she’d ever imagined her daughter suffering wasn’t even close to the truth, and now she was crying and shouting.
“You took Jordan to some cult in the mountains of Kentucky so you could get married? That makes no sense.”
Jud sighed. “It was all for the good of humanity,” he said. “I had to bring a Sprite to get a Sprite.”
“What the hell are Sprites? And what does that have to do with you getting married? You’re lying to me. Where’s Jordan?”
“Sprites are the girls waiting to be married. They have to be from the male’s bloodline in hopes of passing along the psychic DNA to their children, and—”
“You took our baby to marry her off to some man? You did not do that! I can’t believe you would be that crazy! I can’t believe you could be that heartless! I don’t know you anymore. You are a certified idiot and a criminal, to boot! Oh God. Oh my God,” Tara moaned and then started sobbing.
Now Jud was crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he kept saying.
Tara was shaking so hard she kept dropping the phone, and then she finally got it on speaker and left it in her lap.
“You’re not sorry. You are a selfish bastard...a pervert! You gave our daughter away to a cult so you could marry someone else’s child? And then they kicked you out and you left her there? Is that right? Is that what you did?”
“Yes, that was my original plan, but then I was sorry. It wasn’t how I thought it would be. And when I argued with the Master, it angered him. He ordered me to leave, and refused to let Jordan go with me. I didn’t want to leave, but I was afraid if I didn’t he would kill me, and then Jordan would still be there and no one would know where she was. She is his insurance that I won’t tell. He threatened to kill her if I talked about Fourth Dimension, but I had to get help. You’re a lawyer. I thought you would—”
Tara swallowed back angry tears, then took a deep breath.
“Just shut up and listen. I already hired help. His name is Charlie Dodge and he’s on the job. Take down this number and call it. Tell Charlie who you are and then do every fucking thing he says, or I will find you and kill you, myself. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes, I understand,” Jud said.
“You got our baby into this, now you get her out. And don’t let her down or I’ll send Charlie after you, and you don’t want that to happen. I’m going to call him right now and tell him to expect your call. Give me three minutes.”
“Yes, yes, I will, and I won’t let you down. I promise,” Jud said. “I’ll get Jordan out of there or die trying.”
Fifteen
Charlie was walking back into the cabin when his cell phone rang. He dropped the bag he was carrying to answer it, and then saw who it was from.
“It’s Tara Bien,” Charlie said.
The agents all stopped.
Wyrick heard Charlie from the other room and joined them as he answered.
“Hello, Tara, this is Charlie.”
Tara was still crying, trying to breathe between sobs.
“Jud just called me. He took Jordan to Kentucky to that cult—to Fourth Dimension. He got kicked out and they wouldn’t let him take her. He took her there as some kind of donation to the cult, so he could marry someone else’s child. He’s turned into a monster. They’re crazy. They’re all crazy. Their intention is to breed a race of psychics. He said Jordan is in danger. He’s going to call you in a couple of minutes. I don’t know where you are, but find him. He can help you get Jordan out of that place. He knows where it is, and is willing to do anything.”
“We know where it is, too,” Charlie said. “We’re already here and we’re with the FBI. Is Jud still in Kentucky?”
“I don’t know,” she said and then started crying harder. “I’m taking the next plane I can get to Louisville,” Tara said.
“No, Lexington is closer, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Not one part of this was a good idea, and yet my daughter became a victim of this madness anyway. I will let you know when I land. It may be tomorrow before I can get a flight out, but I’m coming. I’ll be in touch.”
She hung up in his ear.
Charlie looked up. “Hank, I think you’re about to get the physical evidence you need to get warrants. That was Tara Bien. Jud just called her in a panic. He got kicked out of the group, and they kept his daughter for insurance. He is willing to do whatever it takes to get Jordan out.”
“Ah man...this is bad news for the kid, and good news for us,” Hank said. “But will he verify what Wyrick told us?”
“He already confessed it to his wife, and just told her he’ll say or do anything he needs to do to get Jordan out.”
“Find out where he is,” Hank said. “We’ll pick him up and get him here. No need giving him a chance to change his mind and back out.”
Charlie nodded. Then his phone rang again.
“It’s him,” Charlie said and then answered. “Charlie Dodge.”
“Mr. Dodge, my name is Jud Bien, and I need your help.”
“I just spoke to Tara,” Charlie said. “Where are you?”
“Berea, Kentucky. Where are you? Where can I meet you?” Jud asked.
“You’re in Berea? Where are you staying?” Charlie asked, knowing the Feds would jump on the location.
“I’m in a Red Roof Inn, but I’ll drive anywhere to meet you, just tell me where.”
“The Red Roof Inn?” Charlie repeated. “Just stay there. You’ll be met and brought to me. Understand?”
Hank gave him a thumbs-up and left the room on the run.
“Yes, yes, I understand,” Jud said. “Thank you. I’ll do anything it takes to get my daughter out of there and back home with Tara. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
* * *
After all the drama about her concern about the safety of her food, Jordan couldn’t eat much. The pain and swelling in her face and jaws were severe, and when they went back to the dormitory, she was hurting so badly that she crawled onto her bed and lay down. She hadn’t been there long when she saw the other girls getting brooms and mops. She got back up.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“It’s cleaning day,” Randi said.
“What do I
do?” Jordan asked.
“I think you should rest. You don’t look so good,” Katie said.
“I agree,” Barbie added. The rest of the girls echoed the decision and sent Jordan back to bed.
She didn’t have it in her to argue anymore. The standoff at breakfast had taken energy she didn’t have.
“Maybe you should take one of those pain pills,” Randi suggested.
Jordan shook her head. “I don’t trust anyone not to kill me,” she said, then rolled over on her side and closed her eyes.
Katie unfolded the blanket at the foot of Jordan’s bed, covered her up and patted her shoulder. “Mother always said sleep was good for healing,” she said, then teared up just saying the name.
* * *
Wyrick set up a little workstation in the bedroom she’d been given, and had been going through satellite images on her own when she glanced at the clock, then went looking for Agent Raines.
“I have a question,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am. Ask away,” Hank said.
“Those pictures you showed us. The ones of the girls walking across the compound in a line. Are there set times that takes place?”
“I would guess mealtimes, but we can check the time on the photos we captured. Come with me,” he said and took her into their com center.
He sat down at a computer, logged on and pulled up a file.
“May I?” she asked, as she stepped up behind him.
“Yes, these don’t need security clearance to view,” he said.
Wyrick thought of the level of security clearance she’d had at Universal Theorem but kept silent. The less they knew about her connection to that place, the better off she and Charlie were for getting what they needed.
“Okay, here are quite a few,” Hank said. “8:04 a.m. 8:10 a.m. 8:00 a.m., and so it goes, so these would be breakfast, and it appears they do have a set time for that meal.”
“What about lunch? Check that out for me, please,” Wyrick asked.
Hank scrolled through photos and then stopped. “These are all during the noon hour. There’s 11:55 a.m. And 12:05 p.m. 12:10 p.m. 12:02 p.m. Do you need to see dinner times?”
