The Dolos Conspiracy

by Frank Perry

as you’re concerned, ‘friend’. You should know that I have a 9mm gun with a full magazine and a round in the chamber. I’m ten feet away and even a blind squirrel couldn’t miss. I could unload all eight shots in you before you could squeeze a trigger.”

  The man became nervous. No one with any capability had ever gotten the best of him, not in thirty years. “What’s the deal, boy? You sound too young to know how to use that thing.”

  John stood in a Weaver stance unflinching. “Force Recon, and I know how to use a weapon. Release your grip on the gun in your right coat pocket and bring your hand out very, very slowly. If I lose sight of your hand, you will die.”

  The man raised his arms away from his body “Now listen, friend. We can work something out.”

  John moved closer, cradling the gun in both hands and never losing aim at the base of the neck. “I’m not your friend, and I’m losing patience.”

  The hands slowly raised and the man turned toward John. “Who are you?”

  “I’m just someone on your hit list. John Hollis is my name, I’m sure you recognize it. Now undo your coat with your left hand and drop it to the ground. Be very slow about it.” John watched the left hand for any unwanted motion.

  “I’ll freeze without a coat out here.” After complaining, with no reaction from Hollis, the man did as he was told. John didn’t give a shit about his comfort. Without being told, the older man interlaced his hands behind his head after the coat fell. He knew the drill. He’d now go to jail awaiting arraignment for gun charges or something stronger that would eventually all be thrown out. It would just delay his assignment a couple days.

  John moved forward, grabbing the man’s shirt and pulled him off of the stoop, being extremely careful and keeping the gun pressed against the middle of the man’s chest. He patted the man for weapons with his free hand. “Gort! Come on out.”

  Gort came from the side of the house where he had been standing in shrubbery along with two other mean-looking lobstermen. John didn’t immediately see the fish gaff Gort carried until it jabbed into the killer’s side. The man doubled over as if hit with a bat, unable to breath with the huge 4” hook in his side. Gort looked at John with sincere appreciation.

  “We got it from here, John. You can go on up to the cottage and tell Mary and the Mrs. that it’s under control. This here fella will be gone and ain’t gonna bother anyone again. You don’t need to tell them that part.”

  The man was crumpled over with both arms wrapped across his midsection, unable to look up. When he tried to pull the hook free, Gort jerked it upward causing the man to scream. “Fuck you, huckleberry, I’ll see you in a couple days; you can count on it.” He was gasping between words.

  John didn’t know exactly what to do. He’d caught the guy, but local justice was now up to the residents. He had an idea what would happen to the killer and was thankful Kelly knew none of this. She would believe in the law; but out here, these lobstermen were the law. John had stopped the guy, so it would end here.

  Gort’s companions grabbed the injured man by the arms, lifting him upright as Gort pulled the hook free. The nameless killer’s face showed the pain of broken ribs and being skewered, probably through a lung. Gort looked at John. “Go ahead on up now, John. This here fella is gonna do a little midnight lobster fishing with us.”

  John nodded knowingly, as the man reacted, now fearing for his life. It hadn’t occurred to him that there wasn’t a police station on the island, no police at all. “Wait! Now wait! I got rights.”

  Gort smiled. “Yeah, out here mister, you got the right to remain silent – forever.”

  The killer looked at John, eyes pleading for help, but John only gave a small knowing look then shook his head as he turned away. Justice had finally caught up with the murderer. Tonight, John was a believer in capital punishment.

  He had landed at the island airport a couple hours earlier from Portland, barely beating the killer. A few hours later, he was returning to Portland before midnight. He’d said goodbye to Mary and her mother at her family’s cottage, assuring her that the threat was over. The killer was no longer a problem, but he didn’t explain further, and she didn’t inquire. She’d live on the island her whole life and knew how things were done. He had offered to have her fly back with him to the mainland for school, but she wanted to spend the night with her mother then return in a few days. The pilot had agreed to fly him over and wait in the plane for two hundred dollars. The night was cold and breezy, but otherwise clear all along the east coast. After landing at the Portland airport, John drove south through the night to be back with Kelly before dawn.

  He’d tracked the man to the Island after having a painful discussion with Fred Cooper the night before – painful for Fred. He’d learned from Irina that she’d brought Fred into their cabal. Fred had worked with Irina for years and was one of the few people she could tolerate. They had similar personalities. Fred had no scruples and fit perfectly into their scheme. She didn’t need to offer him much incentive. He’d been resentful of John’s position in 4B and felt that Kelly had usurped Irina. He didn’t really like Irina, nobody could really “like” her, but she was the nearest thing to a friend he had at the Institute. Fred’s only role in the conspiracy, working on instruction from Irina, had been to “dispose” of John and Kelly, which he had botched twice.

  This information all came out in John’s “conversation” with Fred that would cause him to use all of his sick days from work. This killer had been a pro, even if he was an inelegant thug. His problem, created by Fred, was the requirement to check in with every move, presumably to let Fred approve expenses when traveling. He had notified Fred that he would be following Mary to the Island on the six o’clock boat, which had given John enough time to warn Gort and get to the island.

  Homeward Bound

  John was back at the hospital at eight in the morning. Driving through the night, he thought about how to explain to her that she was out of danger. He was certain of it. Jules was still a problem, but he wasn’t a murderer and would be happy just selling the Institute and disappearing. Ironically, there was still no evidence of a crime that John could take to the police, and he’d broken some serious laws. He just wanted to see Kelly again and let her know she was safe.

  When he arrived at the hospital, visiting hours hadn’t started, and the hospital staff would not admit him unless he was a relative, so he went home for some badly needed rest. He would come back to the hospital at ten o’clock.

  When he returned, Kelly looked much better. Some of the swelling was gone, and the bandages had been reduced. She smiled as he walked to her bed and kissed her cheek, avoiding her split lower lip. He stood for a moment and was about to say something when her parents entered with two suitcases. Mr. Egan gave John a quick smile then turned to Kelly. “Okay, kiddo, we got your stuff. As soon as you’re ready, let me know. We already signed the release papers.”

  Kelly could see that John was confused. He didn’t need to say anything. “John, I’m going home with my folks today.”

  He almost stammered. “Kelly, I … I thought you’d be here longer. I…”

  “My dad talked to our family doctor and the docs here. They arranged an ambulance and a medical plane to take me back to Connecticut. I’ll spend a couple days in our local hospital, and then go home.”

  She was leaving him. He wanted to have time to explain some of what he had learned. As far as she knew, they were still in danger, and John still had no clues. It wasn’t true, of course, but he couldn’t say anything with her parents in hearing range. He wanted to say something, but Mr. Egan insisted, “Young man, let’s leave Kelly alone so she can get dressed.” Her father ushered him out without a chance to speak to here again.

  The two of them, John and Kelly’s father, stood awkwardly silent in the corridor, waiting for Kelly to get dressed with her mother’s help. John wanted to say something, but he kn
ew his relationship with her parents was extremely fragile. Anything could set up a barrier that could never be breeched. It wasn’t fair; he knew it. They wouldn’t understand, and Kelly was confused and frightened. He needed to communicate with her, but it wouldn’t be today. She was slipping away.

  It took her almost twenty minutes to be ready to leave. Kelly was in no shape to travel, but her father had obviously pulled strings to get her released. The man hated John, it was obvious, and wouldn’t give him any more chances with his daughter. For now, her parents were in charge of her.

  When the room door opened, she was sitting in a wheel chair that John hadn’t seen folded in the corner. There were more awkward minutes waiting for the hospital orderly to come and wheel her out. Mr. Egan moved the suitcases toward John. “There you go, young man. Be useful.”

  John did as instructed, and Kelly’s mother remained positioned between them. If Kelly objected, she didn’t indicate it. They went down the elevator together, toward the emergency entrance. An ambulance was waiting. Her parents