by David Carner
New York FBI Office
Chapter 2
John walked into the New York FBI building. He was glad Trip hadn’t taken away his FBI visitor credentials. John had to make a decision soon about what he was going to do. He currently was not a member of the FBI. He had been offered his old job back after assisting his former two partners Chet and Jessica. Trip, the Director of the New York office, had offered the position and the file on John’s wife’s murder after the last case was over. John snickered. After the last case was over . . . that was yesterday.
He headed down the elevator to the foxhole. The name had always amused John. He had given the basement the name since most of the agents that had been stationed in the basement had dug in like they were in a foxhole; fighting for their careers. Not 24 hours ago, Chet and Jessica had been doing just that. Now, John had requested to have the three of them stationed there permanently. There were a couple of reasons for that. The first was to try and stop the pressure that built up on the agents that were stationed in the basement when their careers were on the line. The other, well, it was simply to annoy Bruce. John knew by not only going into the foxhole and solving an unsolvable crime, but by also embracing the foxhole would just drive Bruce insane. If there was anything John went out of his way to do, it was to drive Bruce insane. John thought about the situation that he was about to step into. He smiled as he appreciated the irony. The elevator door opened and John stepped out.
As he headed down the hall he thought about his team. Well, they weren’t his team anymore since he wasn’t in the FBI. Chet was the computer guru. He could get information that John had no way of obtaining online. Truth be told, John could barely turn on a computer. There was also Jessica Hammerstein, “The Hammer.” Jessica could get a confession out of anyone in interrogation. Then there was John. John had a way of finding a lead, or making a connection out of information that no one else seemed to be able to. Together the three of them were an almost unstoppable force; that was until John left the FBI over three years ago and became a private investigator.
John had been undercover for over a year within the Mafia. During that time he had succumbed to the lifestyle of the men he associated with and became an alcoholic. The night of a huge bust of alleged Mafia members by the FBI, John was heading home to tell his wife, Sam, that he was joining AA and would leave the FBI as she wanted him to. John had been thinking about how he was going to tell Sam his decision during his walk. He was yanked out of his thoughts as he got within three blocks of his apartment. The apartment exploded with Sam inside and John looking up at it after being knocked back by the explosion.
John had been a wreck since then. He barely remembered the funeral, or his interrogation ran by Jessica at the insistence of the FBI. What little he remembered about any of it was being drunk, and yelling at people. He yelled at his family and Sam’s. He had only within the last week apologized to his family. He suspected Sam’s family was still mad at him; he had just been served legal papers by them less than an hour ago. Sam’s parents, Arthur and Madeline Moore, had filed suit against John in civil court for Sam’s death. They were suing him for the trust Sam’s grandparents had left to Sam which had been left to John after her death. John had no clue how much was in there. He just knew he had nothing to worry about moneywise for the rest of his life.
John came to the door of the foxhole and looked inside. There was Jessica. John smiled when he saw her and his heart jumped into his throat. It was strange; three years ago after John was interrogated by Jessica, he left the FBI letting her know that he hated her. For the next three years Jessica and Chet did all they could to solve the case of Sam’s death. Jessica also kept John’s parents and Sam’s mother in the loop as to what was happening. Jessica ran interference for John after he blessed out a reporter when the reporter asked John about his late wife’s death. In the past week John and Jessica had started to admit the romantic feelings they had for each other.
Jessica turned, saw John and smiled at him. She motioned him in and John walked into the room. Inside the room were Chet, Trip, and Bruce Cosby. John and Bruce had a special hate-hate relationship. Bruce’s father, Senator Jeremiah Cosby, had actually met John at Sam’s house when John and Sam had first started dating. Jeremiah thought of Sam and John as the children he didn’t have that he always wanted. Apparently Jeremiah, and Sam’s mother, Madeline, had dated for a time before Madeline married her husband, Arthur.
Bruce and John’s confrontations in the FBI had been legendary; with John coming out on top every single time. Bruce had actually asked for John on this case. This showed John exactly how serious the case actually was, and how serious Bruce was taking it. Jeremiah had been reported kidnapped a little over an hour ago. John walked up to Bruce and the room went quiet as Bruce turned to face him.
Chapter 3
“Agent Fowler,” said Bruce, extending his hand. John reached out and shook Bruce’s hand. It seemed like everyone in the room took a collective breath.
“I’m not an agent, Bruce,” John replied with a slight grin. “I haven’t made up my mind yet about what I’m going to do.”
Bruce looked like he had been slapped in the face with John’s statement. He turned quickly to the others and seemed to be about to begin talking to them, when John put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce spun with anger in his eyes. He looked loathingly at John’s hand on his shoulder.
“Bruce, have I done something to upset you?” John asked.
“Have you done something to upset me? Have you done something to upset me!?!? I need an agent on this, John!! No! Let me correct that!! I need the best the FBI has to offer, and you are not FBI. You’re a consultant! I want someone who is dedicated to this! If you can’t even dedicate yourself to the FBI then how can I know you will dedicate yourself to finding my father!?? Huh?? How JOHN???? HOW!?!?!?”
Bruce turned; his face furious. Trip looked at John, shrugged and turned his back on John to help Bruce. Jessica mouthed the word, “sorry,” and went back to helping Bruce. Chet looked at John very uncomfortably. John nodded to his friend and Chet turned to help Bruce as well. John stood there for a second letting it all sink in.
John was the outsider here. There was no denying it. He knew he had to make up his mind right then. It was time to make the decision he had been avoiding. Did he walk away and let the FBI find Sam’s killer and Senator Cosby’s kidnapper, or did John cowboy-up and do what he was put on Earth to do? John knew he was the best chance they had of solving both cases, and he also knew he was the man with the best chance of finding Senator Cosby alive. He spoke very softly, barely above a whisper.
“Give me the papers to sign, Trip,” John said. Trip froze. Bruce turned around very slowly. Anger was dying in his eyes.
“This isn’t the time for one of our little games, John,” replied Bruce. John shook his head.
“I’m not playing Bruce. This is too important. I’m not ready for this yet, but your father’s situation doesn’t allow me that luxury right now.” John turned to Trip. “Get me the papers to sign . . . I’m back.”
John noticed Chet breathe a sigh of relief. Jessica’s eyes sparkled mischievously. Trip had a tight lipped smile, which for him was the equivalent of a NFL wide receiver doing an end zone dance. Bruce offered his hand again. John shook it.
“Welcome back, John, and thank you,” Bruce said. John nodded. “You have some papers to sign John. I’ve left the entire file on my father with Jessica and Chet. The best I can tell, Secret Service Agent Luke McDonald is the last person to see my father. I’m going to leave now before my presence causes any problems. I have contacted Quantico asking for special permission to work this case, but I’m not expecting them to allow me any access. I don’t know why not. John and my father are closer than the Senator and I are.” John internally winced with the last statement Bruce made. Everyone was a little uncomfortable, and no one had any words of comfort for Bruce. He had spoken the truth and everyone knew it. Bruce left the foxhole
and got on the elevator; as soon as the doors shut, the biggest grin in the world broke out over Bruce’s face.
Chapter 4
Bruce walked upstairs to his offices. His team saw him and tried to console him. Bruce internally shuddered at the thought of having to be around this group of people. He stayed for just a minute and then began to choke up. Bruce told everyone he needed some air and left. Bruce was trying to hurry out of the building, but not appear that way. What John and company were not aware of yet, was Senator Cosby had been missing for over 18 hours at this point. Bruce made it to his car without being stopped. He left the FBI building and pulled out into traffic. He drove a bit and pulled into a parking garage. Bruce drove up to the top of the garage. He parked the car. From where he was, he was within a stone’s throw of the river, and he could look out over the city. Bruce reached into his coat, pulled out a pair of gloves and put them on. After he made sure there was no skin exposed, he reached into the glove box and pulled out a cell phone. There was one number preprogrammed into the phone. Bruce dialed it.
“Go ahead,” the voice on the other end said.
“John Fowler is back in the FBI like you requested. I have currently pulled myself off of the case. I have told his little group I am waiting for permission from Quantico. You might want to contact those you know there to get me back on the case so I can report back to you. The group is about to begin questioning McDonald . . . do I need to do anything?”
There was a pause; Bruce began to wonder if the phone call had been dropped. The voice on the other end finally answered.
“Not at this time, but if I do need something, it will be for you to take care of the situation PERMANENTLY. . . will that be an issue?” Bruce laughed.
“Why would that be a problem? Anything else?” Bruce asked.
“No, I’ll take care of Quantico,” said the voice on the other end. “Bruce, if you double-cross me.”
“You’ll never see it coming,” interrupted Bruce. “Look, I have no want or reason at this point to do anything to you. As I told you last night, I have my agenda . . . you have yours. One last thing . . . ARCHIBALD,” Archibald hissed in anger. “You mention me to your other mole, I’ll make sure you go down and your lovely daughter does as well.” Bruce hung up the phone before Archibald could retort. Bruce got out of the car and looked out over New York City.
Chapter 5
Bruce thought back to the events that had taken place yesterday. Lisa Sparks had been arrested for her part in the death of Beth George and the attempted murder of David George. The murder and attempted murder had taken place over 25 years ago. Bruce smiled when he thought of Lisa; here was a woman after his own heart. She did what was best for her. She could care less about what happened to anyone else, well, except for her father, Archibald. Lisa’s real name used to be Veronica, but she had it changed after the murders. Lisa had found herself taken hostage when David George, the kid she had tried to have murdered years ago, decided to get revenge over the murder of his sister Beth. Bruce laughed silently, he really admired her.
His mind then took him to thoughts of David George. Bruce really hated him. John had been out of the FBI until David’s little murderous rampage over those that were involved, or had helped cover up the incident in Kentucky, brought him back to the FBI. Bruce really didn’t want John back in the FBI, but the last thing he wanted was John being a consultant. Bruce had rather John stayed away and been a private investigator. If Bruce couldn’t have that, then John needed to be an FBI agent. At least this way Bruce could know most of what John was involved with, and not arouse any suspicions. Bruce could always use the excuse of collaboration among agents, and all of that jazz. If John had remained a consultant, it would have been harder for Bruce.
Bruce reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small cloth bag closed by drawstrings. He opened the bag and looked inside. He smiled as he pulled out the ring. It was a simple gold ring. Inscribed inside it simply read, “Always yours, John.” Bruce replaced the ring in the bag, closed it and made sure it was securely tied. Bruce thought about his mother who had died at a young age. If his dad was to die due to these unfortunate circumstances, then he would have no family. This thought made him smile. Bruce chuckled to himself. He put the bag back into his coat pocket and spoke to himself very softly.
“If I had a sister, I wouldn’t miss her.”
The saying was a ritual he had since the first night he got the ring over three years ago. Bruce inhaled deeply. A sick, evil smile covered his face.
“John, John, John,” he said softly to himself. “They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Do you know why Johnny boy?” Bruce opened his eyes. There was a look of pure hatred in them. “It’s so you can find the perfect place to put the knife in someone’s back.”
Bruce stood there for a moment, thinking again about having no family. Bruce took the battery out of the cell phone, and then threw both the cell phone and the battery into the river. As he watched them both sink he decided he liked explosions and fire a whole lot more than drowning and water. Water just wasn’t as fun.
Archibald Staples
Virginia
Chapter 6
Archibald stared at the phone like it was a snake that had tried to bite him. He had to give Bruce Cosby credit. The man was devious . . . Bruce was like the son he never had. Archibald laughed out loud at the irony of it all. Senator Cosby hated the way Bruce was and would have preferred John Fowler for a son, or John’s late wife, Sam, for a daughter. Archibald was looking out over his land from the patio on the back of his mansion. It was quite chilly outside, but Archibald didn’t care. He couldn’t let a little thing like weather affect him.
He thought about John Fowler. Archibald wasn’t thrilled with John being back in the FBI, but it was the best solution to a bad situation as far as he was concerned. If Archibald could maneuver Bruce to help him make it look like McDonald was a lone wolf nutcase, then John was less likely to look any deeper into the mess McDonald had caused. Archibald was counting on John’s relationship with the Senator to concern John more with finding the Senator than worry about who was behind the abduction. With Bruce there . . . Archibald smiled for a second, he could find a way to eliminate McDonald. Archibald silently cursed his daughter for telling McDonald to contact him. Well that was water under the bridge, time to move on.
Archibald looked behind him at the group in his office. The patio doors were shut to his office, but he could see thought the glass the lawyers that were crawling all over his office. Archibald really didn’t like lawyers, but he wasn’t about to spare any expense for his daughter. He had to take care of her. Archibald threw back his head and roared with laughter. That was great. That was the funniest thing he had heard in months and he had thought of it! Archibald caught his breath. It was time to be serious. Lisa shouldn’t spend a minute more in jail than was absolutely necessary for one very important reason. She was the one person in the world who could give the authorities the information they needed to catch him.
Archibald truly believed there was nothing the authorities could pin on him without several different of his associates banning together to rat on him; Lisa however . . . well, she knew just about everything. Lisa would never tell anyone anything, but why take the risk. Archibald got one of his bodyguard’s attention and had him come outside. The bodyguard brought Archibald a drink out on the patio to try and not attract attention. Archibald kept his voice low so he couldn’t be heard inside.
“You do know who ‘The Duck’ is?” Archibald asked. The guard nodded. Archibald took a drink of scotch. “I need you to tell him something.” The guard nodded. “Tell him I need to collect on the favor from three years ago; he’ll know what it means. Tell him not to contact me; I’ll get in touch with him.” The bodyguard nodded and headed in. Archibald finished his scotch, and sat down the glass on the table on his patio. Archibald walked up to the doors and opened both simultaneously.
“All right, you overp
riced crooks!!” Archibald exclaimed. “Let’s get my baby girl out of jail!!”
John Fowler
New York FBI Office
Chapter 7
John watched Bruce leave the room and felt for him. Whether or not Bruce and the Senator cared for each other didn’t really matter; what mattered was a man was kidnapped and that man had a son. A son that John loathed, but Bruce was Jeremiah Cosby’s son regardless. John felt everyone’s eyes on his back and slowly turned around to see the other three staring at him. Trip broke the silence.
“John, if you’re serious, I’ll run upstairs and get the forms,” Trip said. John nodded. Trip turned to Jessica and Chet. “Agents Chet Morris and Jessica Hammerstein, I am going to team you with John Fowler if there is no objection.” John waited for Jessica to make a big deal out of things. Chet was beaming. He seemed the most relieved John had seen him since before Sam’s funeral. John looked over at Jessica. She had a coy smile on her face. John raised his eyebrows at her in question.
“No objection, sir,” said Jessica quietly. Chet shook his head no and Trip took off for the paperwork. John turned and pointed to the monitor and Chet began to do his computer thing. Chet was unbelievable when it came to operating a computer. John had said many times that Chet could have been a great developer of programs, a hacker, or both. John looked at Jessica. She was known by the moniker “The Hammer”. If Jessica got you into interrogation, then your best hope was to tell her everything you had ever done wrong in your life . . . and that your story was consistent.
John remembered when the three of them had first started working together on a case. An old lady had been housing a terrorist, unbeknownst to her. The lady was having trouble keeping her story straight because she was simply forgetting details. Trip was worried Jessica was going to induce a heart attack in the lady before they cracked the case. John had always found Jessica interrogating people funny until he received the full treatment after his wife’s death. He had never asked how long Jessica had questioned him, he had heard for two hours, but he was sure it was at least a week and a half.
