by Shane Crosby
“Mase, do you hear that?”
“What?”
“Shhh....be quiet. You don’t hear that?”
I heard Mr. Hoffman rummaging through his possessions. There were things falling onto the floor. And, an occasional swear word come afterward. I thought I heard a car door, but, then, it was quiet.
“Scott, I think you’re on edge. It’s understandable, believe me I’m not judging you.”
“Mase, I’m telling you I’m not imagining it. Let’s just get this whatever it is and go.”
“Shit man. You really have a bad case of the heebie-jeebies don’t you?”
“I guess you can say that.”
“I found them! I knew they were here.”
Mr. Hoffman’s footsteps were coming down the hall. I couldn’t shake that feeling. I got up went to the window and pulled the curtains back slightly. Through the slit, I peered out of the window. I immediately wish I hadn’t.
“Shoot! How many times are we going to have to do this?”
“Mase! Get Mr. Hoffman, now!”
“What is it?”
“Mase, do you really have to ask me that?”
“Gotcha.”
Mase ran to get Mr. Hoffman. I got my weapon ready and ran to the back of the house. I was looking for another way out. They hadn’t come around the back, but they were coming around the sides of the house. It looked like the sliding doors were our best option. I could hear Mase trying to convince Mr. Hoffman we needed to leave.
“Mr. Hoffman, I need you to listen. Don’t ask any questions. Is there a way out of here other than the front door?”
“Why yes, the garage. The back door.”
“Where is it?”
“Back here, what’s going on?”
“Remember when I said don’t ask any questions? Let’s go.”
He jerked his arm away. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Mr. Hoffman, we really don’t have time for this!” Mase grabbed him and jerked him further into the living room. I had the sliding doors opened.
“Mase come one hurry.”
Mr. Hoffman got to the doors and stopped.
“Listen, I am not leaving until you explain what the hell is going on here.”
I stepped into the house to help Mase. “Let’s go! Now! We’ll explain later.”
I tried to grab his arm and Mase grabbed the other. Then I felt something warm all over my face. I turned to see Mr. Hoffman with his hands over his throat. Blood was rushing between his fingers like you turned on a faucet. Between his fingers was a knife sticking out of the side of his neck. Mase grabbed Mr. Hoffman, laid him on the floor and turned the lights out. I ducked down and fired into the darkness. I heard a groan and then movement, lucky shot. I lunged at the doors to close them. Mase grabbed a towel from the kitchen and placed it around Mr. Hoffman’s neck. I was searching his house for anything that could help us get to safety.
“Oh no, no, no, no. Mr. Hoffman hold on, please.”
“We have to get out of here. He has to get to the hospital.”
“I know.”
I went to the back to look out of the window. The one I hit had his hand over his collar bone area. They were all looking him over trying to see how bad the wound was. There were two walking back and forth covering the perimeter. We couldn’t take a chance on carrying Mr. Hoffman out of here. We can’t shoot our way out with an injured man. But, we had to do something immediately. After, making a civilian attempt to patch their man up, they turned their focus back toward us. They were preparing another attack.
“Mase. Oh no, man listen. We have to get out of here faster than you think, bro.”
“What’s going on out there?”
“Does he have a phone in here?”
“Don’t know, man.”
I kept looking for a phone. As quiet as they were attacking us none of the neighbors heard it. Therefore, they wouldn’t be calling the police. It was up to us to save ourselves.
“I found it!”
“Thank God he’s still in the generation that has a home phone. I take back everything I ever said about mom and dad.”
“Me too.”
I picked up the receiver hoping to hear that lifesaving dial tone.
“It’s dead!”
“They cut the line!”
“We’re totally on our own.”
“We gotta get out of here.”
“They jammed the phone lines.”
“No coverage!”
“Mase, I got an idea.”
His keys were in the ashtray on his table. By then, glass was breaking inside of the house.
“They’re throwing tear gas canisters through the window.”
“Yes, I see that.”
The room started to fill up with tear gas. The next to come through the windows were cocktail bombs. Now tear gas was mixed with smoke and flames. We started to cough, choke and gasp for air. The room was rapidly being consumed by the flames. It was becoming difficult to see as well as breath.
“Mase, I have the keys. Come on let’s get him up.”
We lifted Mr. Hoffman up and carried him to the garage.
“A nineteen seventy-eight Cutlass Supreme.”
“Mase, we don’t have time for you to admire this car.”
“There’s always time to give respect where respect is due.”
Still holding the rag to his neck and keeping pressure on the wound, Mase got in the back with Mr. Hoffman.
“Whoo, this is a blast from the past. You sure you can drive this, bro?”
“I have to.”
“Damn, man it’s a shame to mess this beauty up.”
“I know I was thinking the same thing. It’s our lives or the car.”
“I’ll take our lives for a thousand, Alex.”
I searched and silently prayed for there to be a garage opener. But, decided we didn’t really need one. I started the car put it in reverse and backed through the garage doors down the drive way. As soon as they saw the car we were fired upon. I continued to back down the street. When we got a safe distance from the house, I put the car in drive and didn’t stop until we got Mr. Hoffman to the hospital.
When we arrived at the emergency entrance, we got out yelling and screaming for help. A nurse saw us and came running with a doctor in tow. We gave Mr. Hoffman over to them and they took over the attempt to revive him.
When they lifted him onto the gurney I thought I heard them say they had a pulse. It was so much activity around Mr. Hoffman no one was paying attention to us. We quietly backed out of the hospital and drove back to the hotel.
BACK AT THE HOTEL
Mase & Scott
“We were almost there Mase.”
“Don’t I know it. I feel worse than I did before we left.”
“I think they were coming for Mr. Hoffman before we got there.”
“I was thinking the same thing.
There has to be some way for us to contact and connect with the family of this sociopathic bastard without getting them or us killed.”
“I don’t think that’s it. I think they’re scheduled for execution before we even get in touch with them.”
“How did you arrive at that?”
“You haven’t? Think about it. Every member of that family we’ve located has been murdered. We always get there too late.”
“You’re saying, they’re knocking them off to keep us from talking to them.”
“Maybe not just that, but to keep them from telling the secret that family is hiding.”
“I wouldn’t want anyone to know my father was a war criminal.”
“I think that’s what the Atty. General is sending us to find out. I think he had an idea who it was and they killed him and now they’re determined to keep this quiet.”
“How are we going to find out who’s behind this? They know more about the family then we do. They’re always going to get there first.”
“Not necessarily, w
e need to put our heads together more and come up with something.”
“I’m all for a brainstorming session. We can fill the others in when we get back.”
“But, how are we going to locate a member of this family before they’re scratched off the kill list? I just can’t see how we can do it Mase.”
“We need to find another way in.”
“When you find it let me know because right now that path is invisible to the naked eye.”
“Don’t I know it.”
After some deliberation, Scott and I decided to tell the other brothers about our little run in with our friends. After we let the others know what happened. It was decided by all that we needed to leave Florida immediately. We hurriedly packed up our things and raced to the airport.
BACK SAFE
BERLIN
Scott, Mase, Dub, Trevor, Don, Jared
Trevor
The trip to Florida didn’t go as we’d hoped. I won’t say planned because we’ve learned that with this case, plans fall apart quickly.
We were all disappointed at the outcome of our Florida trip. With the information J had given us, we were cautiously optimistic that we’d come away with a win, but it wasn’t to be.
Mase and Scott filled us in on what happened with Mr. Hoffman. There was nothing we could do but take the setback and move forward. The problem we’re facing now is how do we move forward? What do we move forward with? We’ve covered everything in the AG bag and each time they’ve beat us. We didn’t know what to grab onto this time. Enlisting the help of other agencies would require proof. The meetings, the docks, the locations where the women were kept was destroyed. The clubs, on paper and to the naked eye, they’re just a regular strip club.
It’s difficult to accept all the loss we’ve suffered and that of others we’ve never met will be for nothing. I feel like a failure. I wonder how I’ll close my eyes at night, see the faces of my children, my wife, Jack and all of those women and obtain peace.
“Now we’re back. Fill us in on the details.”
“Mase and I went to see the brother Richard Hoffman.”
“What happened in detail?”
“Another loss, no need to go into detail.”
“I guess you’re right. I get tired of hearing about our loses in this case.”
“I don’t think they were there for us. I think we were a plus.”
“So why the attack?”
“I believe they were there for Mr. Hoffman.”
“Why?”
“Your guess is as good as ours.”
“We were almost home. About to find out everything we needed to know and then it was gone just like that.”
“You were that close?”
“Yep. I could feel it in my hand. And, then it ran through my fingers like sand.”
“What is it with this case? It’s like it’s cursed.”
“It is cursed.”
“So now, all we have is the evidence on PPV Industries, which isn’t providing any answers to the strange shit that’s happening around us now. All of the information we uncovered when we were in the states is still going on. We have no answers, nothing. It can’t end like this. It just can’t.”
“I’m inclined to agree. We’ve followed the clues the Attorney General left. The only items we have no clue about are the pictures of Gerhardt and this kid Jaheeb.”
“Jaheeb is just a ghost. Nothing has come back on him.”
“That was based upon rumors; we may never find anything on him.”
“The old man said he was dead, remember, childhood accident.”
“The Attorney General’s video said, someone we trusted was trying to destroy the thumb drive that was left for evidence.”
“We have every thumb drive.”
“Not the one Morris left for Don.”
“But, the video also said, it was someone we trusted trying to destroy it. Who?”
“He left the thumb drive with someone?”
“Who Morris?”
“Isn’t that who we’re talking about?”
“And, the Attorney General Dub.”
“The Attorney General left his evidence with the old man. We have that drive.”
“Wait! What if he left two drives with him, Dub.”
“With who? The old man?”
“Yes.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, he may not have been helping us after all.”
“Why would he give us all that information on Gerhardt, his family, even on himself?”
“First of all, we should’ve picked up on that while we were there. He’s an ex-KGB officer. He sold someone else out in order to gain for himself. Who’s to say he’s not capable of continuing to play both sides?”
“True.”
“You think he was setting us up the entire time?”
“I think he knows much more than he ever told us or was willing to tell us.”
“It’s plausible. The Attorney General gave him two thumb drives. He kept the one Morris made. He tried to destroy it not knowing it would trigger the video.”
“All plausible. And, besides, I can’t get over the message. He said it more than once, someone we trust. It’s someone we trust.”
“Damnit! That old bastard, still KGB through and through. We need to go back and pay him a visit.”
“And, do what? He wouldn’t spill it. He’s used to torturing people. He’d die first.”
“I can’t believe this. He could’ve ended this case for us right then.”
“It didn’t benefit him.”
“We need to figure out why it didn’t benefit him.”
“Agreed.”
“The only new item is that from what the Attorney General left, Gerhardt’s baby was listed as deceased. Gerhardt’s son was born May 22 and a baby, last name Buchanan was born May 24 of the same year. The baby born on May 24 was named Trevor Bryan Buchanan. He’s recorded as being deceased at eight weeks old. I searched the death records for New York and Florida and D.C., there’s nothing listed for this baby. However, there’s a record for another Trevor Brian Buchanan born on the same day as the baby who died.”
“The CIA got rid of his death and birth record.”
“And, they gave Gerhardt’s son his identity, but tweaked it a bit.”
“Um hmm, how the Attorney General got it, I have no idea. His father probably kept it some kind of way.”
“So, the second baby, that’s who we’re looking for.”
“Um hmm, but where he is, I have no idea.”
“You can’t find him with that?”
“Should be able to, but nothing. I mean nothing is listed for him after grade school. And, get this, his grade school was destroyed.”
“Records?”
“Do you have to ask?”
“The CIA has worked double time to hide this kid’s identity. Why? What’s so special about him?”
“It might not be him, that’s special. It’s the United States false reputation. They can’t allow other nations to know it’s true, that we actually helped Nazi war criminals immigrate to and hide within this country.”
“So, the great lie continues.”
“Looks like it, yes.”
“How does it feel to be the only people on Earth, who knows their secret?”
“Lonely.”
“Let’s admit it. We’re at a standstill here. And, who the hell is Miriam Petrovich?”
“I hate to admit it, but it’s looking like it. We’re dead in the water.”
“Go over everything we have, reach out to everyone who’s helped us and see if they can come up with something to move us forward.”
“Do we want to reach out to anyone?”
“Any time we have, they’ve ended up dead.”
“What’s left?”
“Just us, bro.”
CHAPTER FIFTY - EIGHT
TWO WEEKS LATER
THIS IS WHAT I HAVE
BERLIN
Since this case started with me, I didn’t want it to end without me knowing exactly why I lost my family and specifically, who took them from me. The past three years, my brothers and I have almost lost our lives on more than one occasion. We’re left with scars, fractures and tainted memories that will remain with us throughout our lifetime.
I think the next worst thing besides losing my family is that they took almost three years from us and we’re left with nothing to show for it. I couldn’t accept that so I’ve worked, studied and researched every little detail of evidence collected along the way. I didn’t want to just let things go without putting forth the effort to make this right not just for us, but for all the people who lost lives and loved ones.
When I got up this morning, I let the fellas know what I’d come up with thus far.
“Trevor, please tell us you’ve solved this.”
“I’ll let you know what I’ve found.”
“Good enough.”
“If you notice, at first, there were people missing from all backgrounds and financial status, then that stopped. I believe that was because people from those cookie cutter backgrounds have people who love and care for them.”
“They’ll report it to the police and will follow up and keep following up.”
“Right Scott. So, they switched gears. From what the AG had, it changed completely. Society’s throw a ways started disappearing. Drug addicts, prostitutes, people with mental illnesses, homeless. Who’s going to miss them? And, of the people who do, they aren’t high on the list of society either so it’s a twofer.”
“They picked right.”
“Yes, until Shana Jackson. Her mother, I’ll never forget her. She was right. She’ll haunt me after death. Her mother cared about her. She followed up, until she, too, disappeared.”
“They got her. Whomever is doing this. They got her.”
“Social Security dropped. I studied what we got from the Social Security office. The biggest dip in so far is in those people who are just retiring and people who are own drugs for an illness or something like that.”
“We saw the prisons, empty almost.”
“Sure was. The alternative schools, empty.”
