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by Arturo F. Campo


  * * *

  That evening, Lulu came in the house with a regular size suitcase she bought from the thrift shop earlier. The FBI incident bothered her. She knew she handled herself well while detained, but intuition told her to be wary. She could not afford further investigations. She must not jeopardize her plan---so many lives were at stake. Against her wishes, she decided to leave Los Angeles; find a new life elsewhere under another identity; and get in touch with Director Cutler. She was about to go to her room when she noticed the answering machine’s light flickered. She placed the luggage on the floor and pressed the machine’s ‘Play’ button:

  The recorder sounded, “Lulu, JP and I are still with relatives. I'll be home this evening. Don’t wait for me. Oh, don’t leave food too. Bye,” Juaning said over the recorder.

  After hearing the message, Lulu went upstairs with her suitcase and packed her things. She was all dressed up and ready to go as she wrote a letter for Juaning and JP when she heard Juaning call out her name and she went down to meet her.

  Juaning said happily, “Lulu, so many wonderful things have happened. I thank God for it. I hope you have no plans for Monday evening.”

  “Why?”

  “You have to help me prepare dinner as I invited someone very special to come over. Someone I want you to meet. It will really make me and JP very happy to have you meet our guest.”

  “Is this the cousin?”

  “You can say we are related. I am so sleepy. I hardly slept a wink last night with all the stories.”

  “Mom, can I speak to you?”

  “Is it important?” Juaning asked as she yawned. “I am so tired and still have to wake early tomorrow as I'm on duty,” then yawned longer this time.

  Lulu noticed her puffy eye bags and haggard look, “It can wait,” she said.

  “I have never been this sleepy. It must be my age,” Juaning complained as she walked to her bedroom dragging her shoulder bag and coat on the floor. “Don’t forget Monday. It’s very special.”

  Lulu went to her room and continued on her letter then remembered how enthusiastic Juaning was about the guest for dinner on Monday and the help she needed. Giving it a thought, she decided to take a risk and disappear from Juaning and JP's life for good after Monday’s dinner.

  MARRIAGE PROPOSAL

  Juaning, JP, and the doctor were in Rosenthal’s room. Rosenthal was in his pressed white long-sleeves shirt and navy blue pants whose crests were perfectly ironed. The gold belt buckle and black moccasin shoes shined. His shirt neatly tucked in his pants without signs of ruffles. He was ‘top executive’ looking even without his tie and coat. He was ready to leave the hospital.

  The Doctor, in his white hospital gown, admonished Rosenthal, “Remember, no strenuous activities, and avoid excitements.”

  “None of that. I have so much to live for,” Rosenthal replied, as he grinned at Juaning and JP.

  “I can see,” the Doctor remarked as he smiled at the two. “I recommend you slow down your pace and let the pills remind you to take it easy. There is more to life than just work. There are so much to enjoy if you know where to look and it’s so easy to find but you have to take the time to look.”

  “I will. Thank you for everything,” Rosenthal said, shaking the Doctor's hand.

  At the hospital's main entry, Rosenthal stood out of his wheelchair on his own, nicely waving off JP and Juaning's gesture to help. As they walked Rosenthal to his waiting limousine, Rosenthal said, “Juaning my offer stands. I want you to be my live-in nurse and Generaldoma of my home. You make sure I take the pills and stay healthy. You name your salary and benefits plus aides to assist you and it’s yours.”

  “The offer is tempting but you know me, George. I am a nagger, a pest, and I'd boss you around in no time” she tactfully replied.

  “That is the reason I offered you the job. It's time someone bosses me around and you're built for it.”

  “Let me think about it over the weekend. Okay?”

  “Remember, I never take 'No' for an answer.”

  Juaning smiled. “Don't forget dinner at seven tomorrow,” she said, as they stood near a waiting limousine.

  “I won’t miss that for anything in the world,” he replied. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Yes, at seven,” JP reminded, “I hope you wouldn't work tomorrow.”

  “I won’t work as hard, that I can promise.” He got his chauffer to get a cellular phone from the limousine then gave it to JP, “There are a lot of people who wants to eavesdrop on my conversation. It's a regular cell phone until you dial my number. Well, goodbye,” then entered his limo with the chauffeur closing the door behind him.

  The Marriage Proposal

  As JP was driving, Juaning said in a serious manner, “JP, tonight is the time to propose to Lulu. Her invitation for a special dinner for us at the house this evening came at the right time. It will be the prelude to your proposal. Then I’ll announce your marriage during Monday’s dinner.”

  “Marriage?” JP exclaimed. “I'm not even sure she likes me.”

  “She loves you. I know. I am a woman.”

  JP grinned then said, “I don't know what to say.”

  “You don't say anything. Too many words will dampen the excitement. Stay quite as though you are thinking deeply and walk her to a quiet and dimly lighted area. Then slowly turn her to face you as you gently hold her arms with both hands. Look at her in the eyes with a half-smile. Blink your eyes twice, then slowly move forward and kiss her very gently on the lips then slowly move back.”

  “Is that how Uncle Jones got you?”

  “No. I got him drunk. He wasn't even sure he proposed. And if you're curious, he did not. However, that's outside of our topic. Just do what I said,” she instructed.

  “After the kiss, then what?” JP eagerly asked.

  “From there, your heart will dictate what to do and say. Just relax.”

  “You sound so sure of this.”

  “She's in the bag. On Monday's dinner, we will introduce her to your Dad and surprise him of your coming marriage. I know he will be very happy. An instant family. After that, we will plan for babies. At least five . . .” Juaning continued.

  Lulu had set the formal dining table with a stemmed rose over JP and Juaning's plate. When Juaning and JP arrived, she ushered them to their seat and told them to stay seated, as she would serve the food and do everything by herself. She had to insist to Juaning. They were her guests, she insisted.

  JP and Juaning noticed the beautifully decorated dishes Lulu brought to the table. The trimmings plus the aroma made it more appetizing. As they ate, the two could not help but comment on how delicious the dishes were, to Lulu's delight. After dessert Juaning said, “Never have I been so elegantly pampered, everything perfect. Today is special. You two help me bring the plates and dishes to the kitchen then I’ll do the rest.”

  “I will help,” Lulu offered.

  “None of that. You have done enough for the day. JP,” calling JP’s attention. “You and Lulu walk outside for fresh air.” She peered through the window over the wash counter and continued, “The weather is perfect: quarter-moon, clouds, and slightly cold and windy.” She then moved behind Lulu and hand signaled JP to go into action.

  “You like that, Lulu?” JP said, a bit nervous.

  “Let's help bring the food and dishes to the kitchen first,” Lulu answered unsuspecting to what the two had planned on doing.

  Juaning and JP were doubly fast to clear, clean the table, and bring the leftovers to the refrigerator. Lulu could not explain why the rush but it was infectious and rushed herself. When done, Juaning said, in her usual commanding tone as she turned on the sink faucet, “Now, you two go.”

  Juaning turned off the backyard lights when Lulu and JP got to the back porch.

  “The bulbs blew,” JP commented nervously.

  “They don't go altogether at the same time,” Lulu innocently answered. “You alright, JP?”

  “I am. What m
ade you ask?”

  “You're unusually quiet.”

  JP was recalling the steps Juaning told him and mustering courage as well. He took Lulu's hand and swayed it lightly as they walked towards the swing under the oak tree then noticed he had a problem. He could not turn her if she sat and decided to do it before. When they neared the swing, JP took a deep breath; stopped; and turned Lulu towards him. He looked at her straight in the eyes. She was beautiful, he thought, and held her gently by her arms. He moved closer to her but it was not the act they scripted, he was carried by the moment.

  An innocent surprise was on Lulu's face as he got her closer. She did not know what to think of it. There was a glow of innocence in her face.

  Their eyes met and a sense of stillness engulfed them.

  JP felt his heart pounding. Looking at her, he blinked his eyes twice then moved slowly forward for the kiss.

  Lulu froze. Confused to what was happening.

  JP tilted his head slightly and bent down a little. He hesitated for a moment then gently kissed her lips.

  In all this time, Lulu did not know what to do. She had no inkling their walk would come to that. But when she felt JP's tender kiss, her body eased; her eyes instinctively closed; and without realizing, tilted her head slightly as their lips pressed gently.

  JP moved back soon after the kiss and looked at her. She was even beautiful with her eyes closed and kissed her again as gently as the first. His arms embraced her gently. This time, Lulu embraced back and felt the tenderness of his kiss, his embrace, and the moment. As they were in each other arms, JP said, “I learned to love you on the very night we met. I love you, Lulu, more than words can say.”

  On realizing what it led to, “Oh, JP, why do you have to tell me this now,” she said with her head resting on his shoulder, her arms around him, tears swelled from her eyes. “I wished this had not happened.”

  “Why?” JP asked as he moved back. She was in tears. He made her sit on the swing and he sat alongside angling himself to see her face. “I love you, Lulu. If you have a problem, let it be our problem and together, we will solve it. I will not leave you regardless. Tell me.”

  “I wish I could but I can't,” she said as she sobbed.

  “I love you, Lulu.”

  “Say no more,” she said controlling herself. “I wish I could tell you. I wish I could explain. JP, I have to leave.”

  “Leave? But why? Is it because I proposed?”

  “I made the decision before that. It breaks my heart but I have to.”

  “Have to? I do not understand.”

  “Even if I explained, you will not understand and most likely not believe.”

  “Try me first.”

  Lulu thought for a moment. “I have to leave, JP. That is all I can say.”

  “Is there . . . is there someone else?” JP asked and braced for the answer.

  Lulu considered her answers and thought of her parents. “Yes.”

  JP's world crashed. He wanted to pursue; to insist; reason out to keep her but instead said, “If it does not work out, will you promise to call me? I can wait.”

  “Oh, JP,” Lulu cried. She took his hand and placed it on her cheek, “Do not waste your life on a beautiful passing moment. Think of me as a wonderful dream, as I will of you. A dream I will always cherish and remember. But, like all dreams, it has an end. There are other women who can offer as much love as I, if not more. Do not let that opportunity pass waiting for someone you will never see again.”

  “When do you plan to leave?” JP sadly asked.

  “After dinner, tomorrow. You have been so good to me, JP, and it hurts me to leave,” and she cried on his shoulder again.

  “Just remember, if you ever need help, I will be there for you.”

  Lulu moved back and said, “I will give you something but you must promise not to ask questions. I want you to claim it as yours.”

  “I don't understand . . .”

  “Just promise me you will ask no questions.”

  Reluctantly JP said, “I promise.”

  “Swear on it, it’s that important,” she demanded.

  “I swear.”

  “Come, I will show you a computer in my room. It will run much faster than the computer you run Gilda with. It has a built-in operation manual . . .” she continued as they hurriedly walked to the house, to her room.

  Juaning saw the two go up the stairs; heard the door open and closed. Having old traditional values, she went up the stairs to get JP. ‘He should control himself. He should wait until after marriage,’ she thought. Halfway up the stairs, she stopped. ‘Maybe I'm too old fashion,’ she said to herself. ‘The important thing is they will get married. People these days are taking the ‘Fly Now and Pay Later Plan’ to extremes. Where is this world heading to?’ she protested inwardly. ‘Knowing Lulu, she will not go for premarital sex. She would kick his groins for sure. But still they have to get married, as her privacy has been exposed,’ she concluded and went to her room and before she slept said, “At least five babies.”

  Lulu's computer awed JP on what it was capable of doing. Many questions sprung in his mind but held asking as Lulu reminded him a couple of times of his promise, what he swore on. Soon the conversation became formal and very technical.

  An hour and a half later, JP loaded Lulu's computer in his car. Normally, he would be in a hurry to try it out and forget the world but neither the enthusiasm nor the impulse were there---replaced with thoughts of her leaving. He was about to say something but Lulu must have read his mind and quickly placed a finger over his lips. He took it as a cue and said, “Goodnight.”

  A SPY

 

  FBI Agents

  Rosenthal went to work a bit later than usual and in good spirit. He spent his evening analyzing himself---his personality, his work habits, and, most especially, his conduct with his employees. Breaking habits is hard but the hardship merely strengthened Rosenthal's resolve and appetite to win. In that area, he has yet to fail!

  He walked through the office hallway, as always, with a security guard who carried his brief case walking a couple of steps behind. Normally, he would walk through the corridor as though everyone were invisible. Most employees preferred it that way for if he called their attention it meant having to work hard and under pressure. This time, he casually chatted with some employees; and greeted others by their name to their surprise and amazement.

  FBI Special Agent Mark Triska and another dark suited agent, Paul Warren, were in Rosenthal's reception room. They stood when Rosenthal entered the room. They introduced themselves then Agent Triska mentioned the confidentiality of their visit.

  Rosenthal led the agents to his office. Inside, he immediately noticed the room’s new furnishing: the center table, the large painting on the wall, the lampshades, the large TV set, and some other things that were brand new. It made him grin.

  “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” Rosenthal said as they sat on the living room set within his office. ‘Another cat and mouse game,’ he thought and surmised it had to do with industrial espionage that broke the headline news. He was no stranger to it and knew he was on the list of FBI suspects. Rosenthal Global Industries had a clandestine department devoted to gather and acquire information called ‘Public Relations’. It operated no different from CIA or FBI and the chief officer and some of his staff came from their institution. Rosenthal firmly believed in information power and had no scruples getting what he wanted, short of murder. It was part of the business game as far as he was concerned.

  Special Agent Paul Warren started, “Is any of your companies doing research on hydrogen molecules?”

  “What’s so special about it?” Rosenthal asked with his burly tone of voice.

  “It can be used as high explosive for warheads.”

  “That, I know,” replied Rosenthal. “What’s so special about it?” he asked again.

  “Is any of your company working on it?”

  “I don’t like i
nterrogative questions unless forced to answer. Am I forced to answer?”

  “No, Sir,” Agent Warren replied.

  “Then go to the point, Special Agent Warren. What exactly do you want?”

  “We have gotten hold of highly classified documents on the production of solid hydrogen and wondered if it came from one of your companies?”

  “If it did, I would know. Binding hydrogen atoms is no small project. You think it came from us?” Rosenthal questioned again. He was cold, calculating, and extremely shrewd.

  “That's what we aim to find. Are you saying none of your companies are working on it?” asking as though Agent Warren had privilege information.

  “Absolutely certain,” retorted Rosenthal. He knew the game. “What made you suspect it came from one of my research facilities or my being interested in acquiring it?”

  Agent Triska, so far, merely observed how Rosenthal responded to Agent Warren’s questions. He knew what Agent Warren was up to---isolate Rosenthal from the list of suspects who stood to profit from what Dr. Dawson had.

  “We're not,” Agent Triska interjected knowing Agent Warren was a seasoned agent but an amateur against Rosenthal who was interrogating him instead. Agent Triska opened his briefcase; got a set of pictures; and handed them to Rosenthal. “Have you seen the woman in the photographs?” his hand extended.

  Rosenthal wore his owl-rimmed glasses and got the pictures. He examined the set of pictures, pictures of Lulu with Dr. Dawson at the hotel coffee shop with Dr. Dawson’s face purposely blotted out. “No,” he said and handed back the photos.

  Agent Triska did not take the pictures but instead glanced at Agent Warren.

  “Could you look at it again?” Agent Warren requested.

  Rosenthal dropped the pictures on the table. “Not necessary. One of the qualities I'm proud to have is remembering faces and names. To prove my point,” he looked at Agent Triska and said, “You need not introduce yourself again as we were introduced before. Director Doug Green introduced us four years ago, on the Hawkeye Project. That was the first and last time we met. Is that right, Agent Triska?”

  Agent Triska was impressed. “Yes, Sir,” he answered formally, then asked, “Have you heard of the name Luningning or Lulu Spence?”

  “Yes. I heard it mentioned yesterday. Why?”

  “The woman in the picture is Miss Spence. The picture shows her handing classified documents to a suspected industrial spy and her getting something in return.”

  “KGB?” Rosenthal asked to give him time to assess the situation. ‘Were there reasons for JP to accept him as his father? Was he merely getting back at him?’ the questions flashed in his mind.

  “We are uncertain,” Agent Triska answered though he knew Dr. Dawson worked for KGB but reserved the possibility of Dr. Dawson working for Rosenthal too, a double agent. “How are you related to John Paul Fernandez?”

  Rosenthal glanced at Agent Triska. “He is my son,” he snapped.

  Agent Triska did not react. “And, Juanita Jones?”

  “She is my deceased wife's younger sister.”

  “Does your son have any dealings with you?”

  “No. John Paul and I, for reasons, never communicated until last Friday.”

  Agent Warren asked this time, “Is that why you heard the name Lulu Spence only yesterday and have yet to meet her?”

  “Yes. I understand she works for my son’s company as Office Administrator and Secretary.”

  “What is the relationship of your son to Lulu?”

  “Ask him,” Rosenthal irritatingly reacted.

  Agent Triska responded, “Sir, I am not sure if you’re aware of the consequence if the government and the public knew that the heir to the biggest defense industry in the country, in the world, is consorting knowingly or unknowingly with a known Russian spy. We are here to avert a scandal.”

  “Is my son linked in some ways?” Rosenthal prepared to observe their reaction and reply.

  “Your son is clean,” Agent Triska answered. “That, however, does not mean the Russians will not use him indirectly through Miss Spence.”

  “I understand. What do you intend to do?” Rosenthal asked Agent Triska.

  “Neutralize! That would solve everyone’s problem. Miss Spence, after thorough investigation, has no history; her ID, falsified. The Russians will never acknowledge her existence. And once they know, and we will leak the info, that her cover as a sleeper is known to us, they will have no scruples to rid of her. That is standard operating procedure to them.”

  “On my part, you want me not to fuss over her disappearance,” Rosenthal bluntly asked, as he wanted to ascertain their position.

  “It will be to everyone's interest, most especially yours.”

  “I don’t think I could be of any help to you. If you have no other question, good day gentlemen.”

  The Spy

  Rosenthal paced the floor after the agents left. He recalled the conversation with Juaning, of how wonderful and nice a woman Lulu was. What if the FBI was wrong? What if this woman was in a predicament or forced to work as a spy? There were so many ‘ifs’. He took his secured cellular phone and pounced JP’s cell number.

  JP took the ringing cellular phone out of his pocket. Saw it was his Dad calling. “Hi, Dad,” JP answered cheerfully.

  Blunt, Rosenthal asked, “John Paul, how well do you know Lulu?”

  JP answered wary of his father’s tone and question. “'Over a year,” he answered.

  “She is a Russian spy,” Rosenthal went straight to the point.

  “I don't believe that,” JP protested.

  “If I can prove it, will you stop your involvement with her?”

  “Prove it first.”

  “Observe her reaction. Tell her she’s in danger and she must leave the country immediately.”

  “Some nut must be feeding you garbage,” he strongly argued. “She can't be a spy. Not her.”

  “The nuts happen to be FBI and CIA agents. They just left my office. They showed me pictures of her handing classified documents to a confirmed Russian spy. I . . . we cannot have ourselves involved. Too much is at stake when she's only using you. And, even if she's not a spy, her life is still in danger. She must leave the country. I can help you there.”

  “Dad . . .”

  ”John Paul,” he butted, “understand, I am trying to help, otherwise, I would have kept my mouth shut.”

  There was a moment of silence then JP said, “Thanks, Dad.”

  “I'm sorry John Paul,” Rosenthal said then hung up.

  ‘It was too much of a coincidence that Lulu was in a rush to leave Los Angeles and be secretive about it,’ JP thought. He decided to take his father's advice and called Lulu to his office over the office phone. He then went to the window and slightly moved the curtain with his finger. He was about to peer outside when he heard the knock and the door opened. “Lulu, please take a seat,” he formally said.

  Lulu noticed JP's unusual composure. “Anything wrong?” she asked as she sat.

  JP sat on the chair across her. He was sure Lulu would have a logical answer. “Your life is in danger.”

  Lulu turned pale. She associated JP's warning to FBI finding out her false identity but wondered why her life would be in danger. Nevertheless, she must leave. “Thank you for warning me. I’m so very sorry for the trouble I caused you. Please tell Mom how deeply sorry I am for leaving. Tell her I love her. Love her as though she is really my mother.”

  JP's heart sank. His father was right. “Can I help?” he asked in dismay.

  “I doubt you can. I wish to God I don't have to leave,” she said with tears about to fall. “I just have to start another life somewhere.”

  “I doubt if you can without help.”

  “Why?” as she wiped her tears.

  “You are under FBI surveillance. I’ll help you.”

  “You have done enough for me and I don’t want you involve. I’ll just have to think of something.”

>   “Not enough. Allow me this much---give you a head start. Stay here,” he said and left the room in haste.

  A minute later, Sonny, Sylvia, Alice, Sylvs, and Marijack entered the room with JP. After closing the door, JP said in a sense of urgency, “Lulu needs our help desperately and fast. No questions for now but will explain everything after. Lulu has to leave Los Angeles. Will you help her?”

  The five spontaneously agreed and together planned her escape.

  Minutes later, Lulu left the company building thru the front door with Alice. She held on to her sunglasses making sure her face could be seen then worn it. As they walked to Alice’s car parked at the communal parking lot, she pretended to search for something in her shoulder bag. “I forgot my keys. Meet you at the front,” she said to Alice.

  “Okay,” Alice replied then walked to get her car at the parking lot while Lulu went back to the building.

  When Lulu entered JP’s office, Marijack was alone and in her undergarments. Lulu hurriedly undressed and they switched clothing.

  Marijack said as she hurriedly put on Lulu’s clothing, “Thank you for everything you did for me and my mother, Lulu. Write us, okay?”

  “I will try,” then handed Marijack her car key and said, “Please give it to Miguel. I know he needs a car.”

  Dressed up in Lulu’s clothes and wearing her dark glasses, Lulu checked Marijack. “My dress fit you perfectly,” Lulu said while fixing Marijack’s hair. “Thank you so much for helping. Tell your mom too, okay? Via con Dios.”

  “I will. Via con Dios, Lulu.” They tightly hugged each other then parted.

  Marijack left through the building’s front door in Lulu’s dress and dark glasses, entered Alice’s car parked in front and they left.

  A few minutes after Alice and Marijack left, Sonny answered his cellular phone, “Ok,” he said. He turned off his cellular phone and to JP and Lulu, said, “Marijack said they’re being followed and Alice said to thank you for the day off to visit her mother in San Diego.”

  Sylvia and Sylvs, made sure the back alley was clear before Sonny, in the company van, drove JP and Lulu to a car rental office a few blocks away. Sonny rented a car under his name then said to Lulu, “Muchas gracias for what you do for my little girl. If you need husband, you find me, and we bury my wife together,” he quipped to cheer Lulu then said, “Via con Dios, mi amiga.”

  Lulu beamed at Sonny then kissed him on the cheek. With reddened eyes, said, “Via con Dios, mi amigo.” (Go with God, my friend)

  Reveal the Secret

  “I have to go home,” Lulu said as JP made a right turn from the car rental lot to a street headed away from her home.

  “I’m driving you across the Canadian border and plan something there.”

  “Please drive me home first. I need to get something. Something vitally important,” Lulu said extremely worried.

  “FBI will be there.”

  “I have to risk it. It is very important I get my suitcase. There is something in it on which the lives of many depend on.”

  JP was puzzled but too preoccupied to inquire, “OK.” He made a U-turn and drove towards Juaning's house. He knew he could enter the house through the neighbor's hedges that leaned on Juaning’s utility room. He did it before when Auntie Juaning locked herself out.

  “I know you are a spy,” JP said.

  “A spy? . . . Why are you helping me then?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Lulu looked at JP. “I love you too, JP. More than I can say.”

  “Is that part of your training?” JP asked coldly.

  Lulu was hurt, about to cry, and sadly said, “I am not a spy if that is what you mean,” and a tear fell.

  “What are you then?”

  Lulu thought for a moment. “Regardless of outcome, I want you to know, I love you.”

  “What about the other person?”

  “I was referring to my parents.”

  The answer made JP more determined. He took the service alley and parked the car on the neighbor's back driveway with Lulu crouched under the dashboard. He went inside Juaning’s house through the neighbor’s hedges and through the utility room without a problem then got Lulu's suitcase and went back the same way he came in.

  As JP drove said, “I love you, Lulu, and do not care if you are a spy . . . or even an Alien,”

  Lulu looked at JP and realized it was a figure of speech and did not answer.

  JP said, “I may be able to help if you tell me something I can work on. Why is the FBI after you?”

  “Because I am doing something to get to see the President.”

  “Of this country? President Smith?” JP was stumped.

  “Now you know why you can’t help.”

  “If I can get you to speak to the President, will you trust me with the why?”

  “How could you?”

  “Not me, my father.”

  “You think he can?”

  “He is highly connected and influential. Can you trust me enough to tell me your problem?”

  Lulu knew getting Director Cutler to arrange a meeting with the President may take time, time her parents may not have. “It’s a long story.”

  “I know a spot in the Santa Monica Hills where we can talk.”

  JP drove to secluded spot in a public land at Santa Monica Hills using Topanga Canyon Road. He parked the car under a tree by the side of a dirt road miles away from the nearest populated area.

  “What I will tell you is the truth. You just have to trust me,” Lulu said. She then narrated the plight of the Rians: why they were forced to leave their home planet, Ria; how the Rians got to Earth; the reason why they performed genetic engineering to the apes; the Atom Converter project; Atlantis annihilation; and why her father decided to create the hybrid humans---her existence and four other sisters.

  At Lulu’s narration end, JP was dumbfounded.

  “I am human in all respect,” Lulu said, “and not crazy as you may think. I only wished the crystal had more energy to prove it to you. I have to reserve what’s left. I hope you understand.”

  JP took his cellular phone and dialed his father's number. “Dad, . . . I need your help . . . It is a long story . . . She’s with me . . . We are at the Santa Monica Hills at a secluded spot.”

  “Press number nine and twice the pound key on your cellphone. It will act as directional beacon.”

  JP followed his Dad’s instructions.

  Twenty minutes later, Rosenthal's corporate helicopter landed with Rosenthal onboard and picked up Lulu and JP. The three stayed quiet amidst the drowning sound of the helicopter's turbine engine that headed for the Rosenthal Research Center at Malibu Hills, ten miles to the northwest. Rosenthal knew they would be safe there. It was well guarded.

  Rosenthal was a cautious and calculating man. He was risking everything to help a woman he suspected was using his son. However, if he did nothing, he might lose JP and that, he would not gamble. Desperate, he took actions without a plan, something he had never done.

  THE LASER GUN

  Two modern buildings, the Administrative and Research, of Rosenthal Research Center stood side by side straddled on the hillside facing the Pacific Ocean. An enclosed bridge connected the buildings forming a letter ‘H’. A magnificent landmark that was hard to miss driving thru Malibu via the Pacific Coast Highway in Los Angeles, California. Located at the top of the tallest hill for miles around, it commanded a scenic view of oceanside houses that stretched all the way down Santa Monica, miles away. However, the east view was different, a public land---an uninhabited stretch of land with monotonous scenery of brush covered rolling hills with sparse thickets and chaparrals. Deep narrow canyons and valleys separated the hills for as far as one could see.

  The corporate helicopter landed on the Administrative Building's heliport. David Simpson, Chief Executive of the Center, was alone to receive Rosenthal and his guests. He had an exceptional acumen for project management. He worked for Rosenthal when the compa
ny was small and supplied the US Armed Forces with eating and kitchen utensils then. He was the man Rosenthal relied on to get things done and had great respect for David's ability to manage his pet projects. David believed in Rosenthal's visions in the early years and wisely stuck with him. He learned, early in his career, to work around Rosenthal's temper, which only a handful of executives did. Though Rosenthal was a hard man to work with, he amply rewarded those who did. In spite of their long association, David's relationship with Rosenthal stayed always on a professional level. He understood that that was the only thing Rosenthal understood.

  At the heliport, Rosenthal introduced JP, as his son, and Lulu to David.

  “I did not know you . . .” David reacted then stopped and continued, “Nice meeting you, Lulu, and you, too, JP,” shaking both their hands.

  After a brief talk with Rosenthal, David brought them to his office and left them there then he passed on part of Rosenthal's instructions to his personal secretary, “Rosenthal is not to be disturbed nor is he around if anyone inquires,” David stressed.

  Rosenthal, JP, and Lulu made themselves comfortable at the living room set within David Simpson's large and lavish office. The room reflected Rosenthal’s philosophy to impress and awe, projecting an image of power.

  Rosenthal sat on the sofa and waited for JP to start the conversation. Harboring a spy known to the FBI and CIA made Rosenthal edgy but not outwardly.

  “Lulu is not a Russian spy,” JP started.

  “I'm glad to hear that,” Rosenthal replied politely. He normally studied people across the negotiating table and glanced at Lulu who gave him a halfhearted grin.

  JP continued, “What I will tell you will sound science fiction.” He paused unsure how to relate Lulu's predicament.

  “JP, can I explain it to your father?” Lulu suggested.

  JP nodded.

  “Sir,” she started formally, “2.3 million years ago, Aliens found themselves in a situation that they had to leave their planet in a hurry. But things did not come out as planned . . .” Lulu continued.

  Rosenthal, very objective by nature, attentively listened to Lulu’s narrative. Though he was skeptical when it came to UFO’s and alien beings, he remained open-minded and always reserved his conclusion. As he listened, he keenly observed Lulu’s composure as she narrated. By all indications, he found her sincere, and normal in all respect. At Lulu’s narrative end, he found her story hard to believe, more so, to prove. He asked Lulu, “What then is your intention?”

  “I wish to speak to the President of the United States and seek his help,” Lulu answered.

  Taken aback by her request, he bluntly replied, “Getting the President to see you purely on your story will not get us through the White House gate. You look too human to be believable. Please, do not take that to mean I do not believe you. If you can prove your story to me, then I see no reason why I cannot prove it to the President. I do not think you have a choice on the matter. You have to take a gamble. Prove it first.” He was very serious in his manner of speaking.

  Lulu considered Rosenthal's point. “I understand,” she said and took the pyramid crystal from her suitcase. “I will entrust this crystal to you,” as she handed it over.

  Rosenthal got the pyramid crystal and examined it. He had seen something similar in a novelty shop though it was unusually light for its size and highly refractive.

  “Sir,” Lulu said to Rosenthal, “in your hand is a communicating device that will link you to the ship's computer. It is a thinking computer and will allow you to access all of Rian's technology. Through that, you can ask the computer to download a design of things that are currently beyond present-day technology. I, however, have only this one very, very important request . . . please use as little time with it, enough for you to believe. The crystal is my only link to the ship and with my parents. If I lose that option, it will doom them and those orbiting the galaxy.”

  Rosenthal was skeptical but for his son's sake, played along. “I understand. You have my word,” he said. He always kept his word and the business community knew and respected him for that.

  “You may need a large computer to download the information,” Lulu added.

  “We have one at the basement of the Research Building. How do I get this to work?”

  “Place the crystal near the keyboard of the computer. The access word is Goopersh. From there, you can verbally specify the technical specifications you want built.”

  “Password?”

  “No password. Again, please use as little time as possible.”

  “You have my assurance,” and he left them.

  A Wish

  Rosenthal with David went to a conference room adjacent to David’s office. They sat at the corner of large rectangular mahogany table. David was apprehensive. He had no idea of what was going on as he watched Rosenthal, deep in thought, toy a pyramid crystal in his hands.

  “David,” Rosenthal finally said. “If you had one wish on a technological breakthrough that will surely get the President's attention, what would that be?”

  David gave it a quick thought, “A portable laser gun. That is what the military wants and what the President needs to bring the balance of power completely in his favor. We have a contract to develop one.”

  “How far are we?”

  “Very, very far. I'd say the technology is at least 30 years away and most likely more.”

  “What are we aiming for?”

  “Military tank mountable for a start, self-adjusting, capable of blasting through a 15-inch armor plate . . .”

  “Where are we now?” Rosenthal interrupted.

  “We need a crane to move it; three hours, if lucky, to adjust; a power source big enough to light a large town; and the target must remain stationary at all times. I'd say that's far from what the military had in mind,” David said candidly.

  Rosenthal got the humor but did not react. After a brief silence, he asked, “Where are the Russians on this technology?”

  “From what I've gathered, they gave up on it and are hoping to acquire the technology through cheaper means, espionage. On our side, unless we come up with something to justify military research funding, the government may cut or eliminate the project completely. We’re talking hundreds of millions down the drain.”

  “David, call the computer room and tell them we will use it. Have them replace all computer disks with blanks and the computer ready for immediate use.”

  David knew Rosenthal was aware of its implications---total work disruption within the research facility. Without citing the consequences, he made the arrangement over the phone.

 

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