The Road to Round Mountain: The Betrayal by

by C. G. Roberts

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  at my hair and asked, “So, what do you think, Richard Gere”? He smiled and replied, “Maybe Anderson Copper, but not Gere”. Damn I’ve been up maybe fifteen minutes and he already burst my bubble.

  We took our seats on the arm chairs and the Sheriff

  plopped down in his high back chair. “I got another call from Agent Marrick’s friend, and he found out that Agent Boling has someone traveling with her, but in a separate vehicle. He has two people tailing them and planted a tracking device on the other vehicle as well. Just one problem though, we lost our tracking as soon as they got to the Washington border”. “Did they ditch the cars for others”, I asked? “No, but even if they did we would still be getting a signal from the other two, so they must have expected as much and found the tracking devices”. Damn, I would have felt much better know where she was at all times. She has another traveling companion, and I can’t see that as being good news for anyone. If Agent Boling entertained the notion of getting rid of anymore potential witnesses, I imagine her companion was properly trained for it.

  “I’ve got two of my Deputies on 24/7 patrol and extra mobile help from Detective Hargrove to keep an eye out for, well anything. I haven’t heard back from anyone yet, but I will have my radio with me”. “Does this mean you’re taking off”, I inquired? “It does Billy, The misses and I are going to enjoy some time alone and maybe catch a movie”. He pointed towards the fridge, “There’s a few Subway sandwiches in the fridge you all just help yourself and I will see you two in the morning”, as he gave a quick wave of his hand on the way out of his office.

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  Gordon and I just looked at each other, “okay what do you want to do”? Gordon pulled out a deck of cards from his jacket pocket and replied, “Poker anyone”. Deputy Dave provided us with poker chips from one of the cabinets by his desk, so Gordon and I pulled up a couple of chairs by one of the empty desks, placed the chips on the desk and Gordon started to deal. I could do an all-night poker game. We had all the essentials for poker, chips, cigarettes, plenty of soda, and sandwiches. The only thing that would make this night better, would be if Jennifer were here; I miss her already.

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  “doug, dId you honestly think that those were real homeless back at the warehouse”? Doug shifted restlessly in his chair at the roadside diner they were at. The Castle Rock diner was just a few blocks of f of I-5, and if you were so inclined, you could keep on driving to go see Mt. Saint Helens. The diner was straight from the 1950’s, it had bright red swivel stools at the long counter with ten booths set up along the front of the diner and each booth was equipped with an old fashioned mini-jukebox. During the day the blinds were drawn all the way up so you could enjoy the view from the booths but during the evening the blinds were down as if to protect the diners from some evil cascade dwelling monster.

  “Hey, they looked homeless to me”, Doug replied. “That’s why I’m around, to make sure that I notice everything that you don’t”, Boling replied snidely. “I still don’t get it, how did you know”? “Two homeless guys at an abandoned ship yard, think about it, there’s no food, no water, all the buildings are secured, and it would be a waste of their time; they go where the people are”. Doug shook his head in agreement. “I’ve got us hotel rooms set up next door”, as she continued with her chili cheeseburger. “Why a hotel, I thought we were driving straight through”, Doug Inquired. Agent Boling took a moment to check her surroundings and was satisfied with her findings, “Change of plans”.

  The door to the diner opened, and as it did it clipped

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  the bell attached right above it to signal that another patron has arrived hungry and thirsty. A rather ordinary looking man came in, wearing a Seahawks ball cap, jeans, a tee shirt reading Starbuck Ready, covered slightly by a dark blue wind breaker with a well-worn leather satchel draped over his right shoulder. Short gray hair was visible under his ball cap. He walked over to where Agent Boling and Doug were sitting at one of the booths and sat down just as Agent Boling slid over to her right to make room.

  “Evening Sir”, Agent Boling acknowledged. Doug was unimpressed with the visitor and remarked, “Who is this dried up old relic”. The man looked directly at Doug gave him a warm smile and replied, “This dried up old relic, as you so eloquently put it, holds your life in my hands. If I see that your services are as valuable as Agent Boling has indicated, than I may be so inclined to ignore your primitive comment and not turn you over to the CIA”.

  Doug stared him down, but to no avail, the man’s smile remained the same which made him feel uneasy. “Doug, may I introduce Mr. Gable, John Jacob Gable”. Dougs mouth hung open like he lost all control of his jaw muscles.

  “Dear boy, please close your mouth, it’s not a good look for a professional like yourself”. The waitress came up to the table and laid down a plate of roast beef French dip and steak fries. “Thank you my dear”, the Director acknowledged. Doug was now all sorts of confused, “The director of the FBI is sitting right in front of me and you didn’t tell me he was coming”? “He didn’t call me if that’s what you’re wondering”, Agent Boling replied. The Director finished with a bite of sandwich and added, “I take it, you made arrangements at

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  that quaint Hotel next door”. Agent Boling handed him a plastic key card from the Hotel. “Thank you, after we finish here we shall meet in my room for a bit of strategic planning”, the Director concluded.

  “You’re man looks a tad mystified”, The Director told Agent Boling. “Let’s just say, that we are somewhat similar to a married couple. We’ve been working together for over twenty years so when we pass information back and forth, we both know what the other is doing and where we are going. So you see, it’s not a real mystery, our minds work well together”.

  That explanation didn’t make Doug feel any better, “This is just creepy, it’s like you two can read each other’s minds”. “Don’t be so naïve Doug, this is part of the experiment that we have been involved in for the past 6 years. The Director and I have been self-appointed Guinea Pigs for this part of our program and as you can see we can communicate not only by traditional means, but with our minds as well”, Agent Boling explained.

  Doug was now beginning to understand, perhaps not totally and he wasn’t sure he wanted to, but the message was becoming clear. “So that’s why this kid is so important to you. If this experiment works on him, then he will become an extremely dangerous weapon”. “A weapon which cannot be destroyed”, The Director corrected in a firm manner. “The other part of the experiment is to make it possible for him to maintain that high level of electricity in his body, which will leave him, well immortal for lack of a better word. He will feel no pain, a bullet will not be able to penetrate through the electric shield. He will become, the ultimate fighting

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  machine”, As the Director smiled knowing that his project will make history, and make him rich as well.

  They finished their dinner and followed the Director to his room. The amenities in this Hotel were few but was

  not required for the work they had to accomplish didn’t need any modern conveniences. Each of their rooms were actually separate cabins. They had the rustic look of real log cabins, only with the modern addition of electricity and running water.

  The trio could tell the room had not seen a lot of action, as the musty smell of the room forced them to open the windows and prop open the door. They pulled the small wooden table from against the wall and set it underneath the lighting by the little kitchenette area.

  After forty-five minutes of going over different scenarios, the Director seemed satisfied with the plans that were set out. “So everyone is clear about our intentions, let me repeat, the only one we are con
cerned about is Mr. Speer, all others are expendable, and I do mean all”. The Director handed some paperwork to Doug, “What’s all this”, Doug asked. This first packet has the directions and passwords needed to deliver our project. The second is what will be needed to access your funds after the work has been completed to my satisfaction. I’m sure that you will find the amount more than adequate my dear boy. Future projects which will require your services are contingent on the success of this one, and of course a healthy raise on your fees”. Doug smiled a greedy smile that pleased the Director.

  Doug started to open the packages before being stopped by Agent Boling, “Don’t be rude, you can check out the details

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  later. Speaking of which, why don’t you go ahead and call it a night, the Director and I have a few more local details to sort through and I need you rested to be able to focus on the task at hand tomorrow”. Doug nodded an acknowledgement and left for his cabin, paperwork in hand.

  The Director and Agent Boling waited a few minutes before resuming their talk. “Bogus bank account for him to access”, Boling inquired? “No, a legitimate account, not that it will improve his situation……..when he’s dead”. “Do you think he bought the whole experimental drug thing about reading minds”? “It matters not Agent Boling, just needed to make him feel needed and a part of things. Trust, it is a bitch”, the director said with a hearty laugh.

  “Will you be wanting me to take care of Doug sir”? “Oh heavens no, Doug will be used to deliver our project and once his safe arrival is confirmed, then he will be disposed of on-site”, the Director replied in a matter of fact tone. “We have the story set up for any and all casualties’ sir”? “But of course, an investigation will be started by me with my local channels of influence and I shall delegate and demand a full report within 24 hrs. Of course by then I shall be well over three thousand miles from this place, with a report that my plane went down over the Pacific Ocean, never to be seen again. I shall miss paying those alimony checks, whatever will I do with all that extra money”, as they both started laughing out loud.

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  gordon And I were exhausted after a grueling 6 hours of poker. We went through playing most of the night only to be interrupted by the occasional Subway sandwich, of which I had two. I’m not sure what kind they were but I’m sure that I could have eaten a third; they were that good. Gordon only managed one sandwich, but I think part of that was he was getting frustrated that I was winning all night. It wasn’t my fault, he won the first four hands and I started getting frustrated, so I started wishing that I could see what his cards were, knowing that it would be impossible, but one can always hope. Then I discovered a new twist to my gift. When Gordon dealt the fifth hand, I noticed that if I focused hard enough that I could almost see through the cards, as if they

  were transparent.

  I was having way too much fun at the time to let Gordon in on my deceptive winning ways. After all it’s not every night you win 212 million dollars. Not literally of course, we just changed the value of the chips to please our greedy tastes. We had one final smoke before calling it a night. We did get some sleep, maybe three hours, but that was more than was needed since I slept through Wednesday. Playing poker was the most enjoyable activity I’ve been through lately. It felt relaxing to have a good night and now I was ready for a good day; I think I’m entitled to that with all that I’ve been through.

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  Gordon and I had been up for a couple of hours, just long enough to grab a quick shower, a quick sandwich from the fridge, and outside to light up our dessert. Gordon gave me a glare of disapproval as I filled him in on my strategy for last night’s winnings, as the Sheriff drove in to his parking spot. He didn’t quite make it all the way into the parking spot, but he quickly shut off the engine, got out of the car looked at us and said in a very serious manner, “Get inside, now; to my office, I’ll be in there in a second”.

  Gordon and I gave a mutual shrug of the shoulders, field stripped our smokes and headed inside. We sat down on the two chairs closest to the Sheriff’s desk. “Wonder

  what set a fire in his britches”, Gordon said. “Where in the hell did you here that one”, I replied to his hillbilly reference. “Some show I saw, but that’s what it looked like”. I couldn’t argue with him on that, the Sheriff did look to be in one big ass hurry.

  The Sheriff came storming into his office and slammed shut the door. It was quite the slam, remind me not to piss him off. “I just filled in the Deputies and well, Billy, there’s no easy way to say this, but there’s been a kidnapping”. I looked over at Gordon and he was sporting the same confused look as I was. “What are you talking about, what kidnapping”, I asked? The Sheriff hung his head for a moment, then slowly back up at me, “They took Jennifer”.

  I don’t remember how I reacted to that, only to find that there was a pit in my stomach, and anger was beginning to grow. I didn’t have to ask about the “They” part, I know who took her. My mind raced with horrid thoughts of things I would do to agent Boling; things that would be so sick and

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  graphic in nature, that it would be considered too violent

  even for Criminal Minds to air.

  I jumped out of my chair and headed for the door, and without me realizing it, the office door swung open with such force that the hinges of the door splintered from the doorjamb; no I did not touch the door. I went racing past the rows of desks when I heard the Sheriff screaming, “Billy, get back here. Do you even know where you’re headed to”? I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face the Sheriff. I could see fear in the Sheriff’s eye’s as he looked at me. He was right, as much as I wanted to go get Jennifer, I really didn’t know where to start. I had to settle down, my mind was racing a mile a minute. I wanted Boling and whoever she was with to fry for this and I know just how I wanted to do it. Calm down, calm down, you can’t think rationally like this. We will find her; I will find her.

  I went back into the office following the Sheriff. Gordon was still in his chair, a frightened look was appar-ent on his face, as he glanced over at the door when I came back in, “Shit dude, you beat the cream cheese out of that door”. I looked at Gordon and then over at what was left

  of the door, then turned towards the Sheriff, “Sorry about the door, I was just…..” “Don’t worry about the door Billy; hey Gordon, how about getting a round of drinks for us”? Gordon quickly got up and went out the newly remodeled door and over to the fridge.

  “I got a call from Astoria PD when Jennifer didn’t show up for work and someone saw two people tossing someone in the back of a van right before it left the Hospital parking lot”. The Sheriff continued talking, but I couldn’t concentrate on

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  a single word he said. My thoughts were focused on Jennifer, how I was hoping she was okay, and how she better be okay, or else. Not thinking far enough ahead to determine what the “Or else”, consisted of, I was just trying to calm down enough to think clearly.

  “Billy, did you even hear what I said”, The Sheriff said loudly to get my attention. “Sorry sir, my mind was elsewhere”. Gordon came back in and handed out soft drinks, before sitting back down in the chair. “What I was saying is that if they took her, they’re going to want something in return”, The Sheriff stated. “Like a ransom or something”, Gordon added. “More like, or something”, as the Sheriff pointed at Billy.

  “Crap, you mean they took Jennifer to get to me”. “I think the key phrase is, that they want you”, the Sheriff corrected. I was trying to figure out why they would take her. They were coming for me anyway, why put her life in danger, unless. Agent Boling had to have seen what happened to the truck she set out after us with her suicide driver and figured that I wouldn’t go with her on a voluntary basis. I’m guessing her training that she had in mind for me on Wednesday was to be taken to that place in Nevada. So to make sure that I didn’t blow anything or anybody up, she went for a kid
napping, a straight up one for one trade that I would go peacefully with her. But how could she know that; I’m sure that she had already thought of what I would do once they release Jennifer, and what I was capable of. I doubt that they would shoot me in order for me go peacefully; they kind of need me alive. I need to stop, my headache is coming back, and I’ll work out what she might have planned for me later.

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  the sherIFF’s desk phone rang. He picked it up before it rang a second time. “Sherif f Pasco”. “Good evening Sheriff, are you ready to play Lets’ Make a Deal”, the caller asked? “Well Agent, I see you were smart enough to call my office line, but what makes you think you’re smart enough to pull this off”? “Am I being invited to another one of your pissing contests? As I remember the last one, you didn’t fare so well”.

  There was silence on the line for a few seconds. “Okay I’ll bite, what’s the deal you have in mind”? “It’s quite simple, Billy for the Girl”, Agent Boling replied. The Sheriff looked about the room even though it was just Gordon and myself. He was getting red in the face, and definitely not one you want to get on your bad side. “That sounds easy enough, but how do I know that nobody’s going to get hurt and how do I know that hasn’t happened already to Jennifer”? “Trust Sheriff, that’s all we have to offer, otherwise it could get a bit, and shall we say, messy”.

  “I don’t respond well to threats missy, and if anything has happened to her so help me God”…… “Sheriff, if you will look closely to Gordon sitting in one of your chairs, and the little red light pointed right at his curly red hair”. The Sheriff looked up immediately at Gordon, and sure enough some-one had their laser scope pointed right at Gordon’s head. “Gordon, get over by me, right now”, the Sheriff hollered.