Ripper

by David L. Golemon

  As she approached the bed, one of the security men in the far corner cleared his throat. Sarah looked over and nodded at the man. As she continued, another security man stepped into the doorway she had just left, blocking out the light from the clinic’s offices. She was self-conscious about Jack’s men even seeing her in Farbeaux’s room.

  She stepped up to the bed, quietly pulled over a chair, and sat down. She ran a hand through her short brown hair and then eased the glasses back up the bridge of her nose, suddenly self-aware of how she must look. She came here because Henri requested her to, but now she knew she had made a mistake in not allowing Carl to accompany her. She started to rise from the chair.

  “My dear Sarah, it must have taken a lot of courage for you to come here unescorted by your rather large navy friend. I’m sure he wasn’t happy about it.” Henri reached up and moved a strand of hair back behind Sarah’s left ear. She started to flinch away from his touch, but found she couldn’t. She swallowed as his hand came away.

  “I don’t think I have to worry Colonel; Captain Everett seems to be well represented here.”

  Farbeaux looked up at the marine standing in the door and the army sergeant sitting in the chair. Both were watching him very closely.

  “Yes, I suppose he is,” Henri commented with a smile. “I did notice little Sarah that you didn’t disagree when I said ‘the captain’s men’.”

  “Why should I? They are his men.”

  “This afternoon I received the distinct impression that Colonel Collins relieved himself of his duties. Is this true?” Henri sat up with some amount of pain showing on his face so he could see Sarah more closely. He would detect a lie if one was told to him. He knew the small woman in front of him had little affinity for that particular sin.

  Sarah only looked at Farbeaux through the dark sunglasses. She placed her hands in her lap and took Henri in.

  “He did. And yes, it was his choice. Unlike a lot of professional soldiers, and others, Jack had filled up with loathing over war and other things. He needed to step away for a while.”

  “A while?”

  Sarah didn’t answer the query, but she did start to rise from the chair, and this time Henri reached out and took her hand, making her stop. As he did, the marine at the door took a few steps toward Farbeaux’s bed and the sergeant in the corner stood—his hand was on the holster flap where his nine millimeter was secured.

  Sarah looked over and shook her head slightly at the marine. Then she turned and did the same for the sergeant in the corner. They both relaxed. But neither one moved back to their original positions.

  Sarah twisted her hand free of the Frenchman’s grip. “What did you want to see me for, Colonel?”

  “Please, sit,” he said as his eyes looked up and into his own reflection in her sunglasses. That was a view Henri never liked—one of himself.

  Sarah took in a deep breath and then slowly sat down once more. She adjusted her glasses and then looked at Henri. “I have a lot of work to do, Colonel, and I still have plans to track Jack … er, uh, Colonel Collins, down before the night is over.”

  Farbeaux smiled. “I doubt very much if his resignation will affect the way he feels about you, dear Sarah.”

  “I know that, as it won’t affect the way I feel about him. He’s the love of my life, Henri; I want you to know that.” Sarah watched the former French commando for a reaction. His smile remained, but as for understanding what she had just stated, there was no way she could know.

  Henri looked over at the two security men who just stood watching the exchange. He held his hand up so they could see, and then he slowly reached out and removed Sarah’s sunglasses. He held them as he examined her face. The large bandage covering the bridge of her nose and the blackened and bruised eyes shocked the Frenchman and for a moment he lost his smile. He reached up and touched McIntire’s cheek and tried once more to bring back the ghost of a smile he had just a moment before.

  Sarah tried not to flinch at his touch, but she did and she resented her weakness. She touched his finger and then took hold of his hand and lowered it.

  “Colonel … Henri,” she said, remembering that Jack, the man Farbeaux wanted to kill, never called Farbeaux by his last name, but mostly by his given name. “Thank you for coming after me. I … I don’t know what to say, and I don’t know why you did it. But thank you,” she finally said the words and then she released his hand and stood.

  “You don’t know why?” he asked as he looked her in her bruised and swollen eyes.

  “Colonel, I don’t know why. And I am going to leave it at just thank you for doing what you did.” She turned away toward the door.

  “Have you forgotten, dear Sarah, I asked you here? Not to profess my inner soul to you, but to pass on something that I remember from Mexico.”

  Sarah turned and then purposefully walked back. She made a large pretense of snatching her sunglasses from Henri’s right hand. She placed them gingerly on her nose and then looked down at him.

  “That man who came to our rescue, the rather large one who seemed to be in charge of his group. I suspect that Colonel Collins and his sidekick, Captain Everett, found out that no one sent this man and his team in to rescue us … am I correct?”

  Sarah stood still as she took in the question, one that she had no idea was coming. She felt she had shorted Henri for what she had been thinking. But then she corrected herself when she saw the way he looked at her. It was the same way Jack looked in their quiet moments together. She could see in his blue eyes, the same color as Jack’s she noted, that there was far more to Henri’s request for her to be here than just answering his one question, so her original fear of his feelings for her quickly returned.

  “No, the director said the president had a team of DELTA operatives in the air, but at the time our large friend and his commandoes showed up, they were still an hour out of Laredo.”

  Henri turned his head in thought. He then turned his burning gaze on Sarah once more.

  “I’ll tell you what little Sarah, if you can manage to bring me a bottle of wine and a menu from that American slop house you call a cafeteria, I’ll tell you a secret that would be of very much interest to your Director Compton.”

  For the first time since McIntire entered the room, she had to smile. Henri was starting to heal and that made her happy. His French sense of humor was returning.

  “Colonel, I will bring you that menu, or I can have our chefs cook you up anything special you may want, but unless I get orders to allow you access to the Ark Lounge and the spirits sold there, you can forget about the wine.”

  “The Ark?”

  “We’re not barbarians here, Colonel—we actually have a lounge for off-duty personnel.”

  “Then that is where we will sit and have many drinks.”

  “I doubt that very much.”

  “Then I will divulge my suspicions for the offered menu and your obviously fine military chefs.”

  Sarah shook her head and sat back down in the chair. “I’m waiting.”

  “So you are. That man at the river; I have seen him before, a very long time ago. When I was contracting out to various corporations, I met him once. He is not a very nice man. If it were not for my face being covered entirely in blood, I am sure he would have identified me in seconds, at which point he would have not only ended my life, but everyone that he rescued from Guzman.”

  “Who is he?” she asked, becoming concerned simply because a man she knew as fearless was obviously frightened of this person.

  “When I met him he went by the name of Smith, obviously not his real name. Tell your Captain Everett to start a search for him by designating him as possibly former CIA. He is ruthless and he was at Perdition’s Gate for a particular reason, and it was not to the benefit of your Group.”

  “Thank you, Colonel. I’ll pass this on to Captain Everett and the director. But regardless of what they say, I will get you that menu.”

  “Lovely Sarah, there is but o
ne more thing I must say.” Henri tried to sit further up in his bed and when he saw out of the corner of his eye that the nearest security man took a step toward his bed, Farbeaux ignored him. The marine saw that his move wasn’t threatening and relaxed.

  “Can you come a little closer? I promise not to bite.”

  Sarah took a deep breath, not wanting to get any closer to Henri than she already was. There was no telling what was running through this man’s head. He was adept at getting out of tight spaces, and she also knew he would use any means to get out of this one. She leaned forward and before she knew what was happening Farbeaux kissed her. She was so shocked that she froze. If anyone could see her eyes under the dark-shaded glasses they would have seen them wide as saucers. Finally she broke away and stood so suddenly that she knocked over the chair, bringing both security men to her side.

  “Are you okay, Lieutenant?” the marine asked as he steadied her.

  Sarah couldn’t say anything; she just stared at Henri. As she did, the other security man walked up to the bed and then slapped the handcuff on the Frenchman once more.

  “Captain Everett said your comfort was a privilege … one that you just lost, Colonel.”

  Henri smiled as the click of the cuff sounded louder in the room than it should have. He kept his eyes on Sarah as if the two security men didn’t exist.

  Sarah went through the open door and passed Dr. Gilliam as she was coming in to check on her patient. The doctor smiled, but Sarah rushed right past her without saying a word.

  * * *

  Sarah had her arms crossed over her chest as she strode through the hallway heading toward her classroom where she was now officially ten minutes late to instruct on the hidden rock formations inside of natural caves that give off mineralized light. She stood outside of the classroom, adjusted the glasses on her face, and was about to open the door when she looked up and saw Charles Hindershot Ellenshaw III walking past reading a report and eating an apple. The crazed white hair of the cryptozoologist was in its accustomed state of disrepair. His glasses were propped up on his forehead holding his hair in place, necessitating his need to read the report closely held to his face.

  “Doc,” Sarah said as she sniffed and swiped a tear away before it ran out from under the large glasses.

  Ellenshaw, or Crazy Charlie as he was known to the other science departments, looked up startled. He stopped abruptly as Sarah reached out and removed his glasses from his forehead and then slid the wire frames onto his nose.

  “Oh, that’s better,” he said as he smiled and then looked more closely at Sarah. “Thank you … my dear you are looking terrible.”

  “Thanks Doc. Listen, do you have an hour and a half of free time?”

  Ellenshaw looked at the report in his hand and the half-eaten apple and smiled crookedly. “It seems the head of cryptozoology always has an abundance of time on his hands.”

  “Would you take my class for this evening?”

  “Your geology class?” he asked as several of the papers he was studying fell free of his folder. Sarah reached down and retrieved them for him.

  “What instruction do you want me to give?”

  Sarah stood and removed the crumpled folder from Charlie’s hand and then replaced the papers. “Nothing as mundane as I had planned, Doc. Just regale them with your exploits in the Amazon, or in Canada.”

  “Well, I suppose—”

  Ellenshaw didn’t have time to finish as Sarah abruptly turned and headed for the elevators. He watched as she vanished around the curving hallway. Charlie shook his head, quickly piecing together what he thought was happening. Knowing that Jack Collins had left the complex, he thought for sure that was the main reason Sarah needed a break. So, with the apple clutched in his teeth and the file folder in one hand, Ellenshaw opened the door to Sarah’s classroom and entered. As the door closed there was a group exhale of excitement as they realized that they would not be quizzed this evening on the factors determining the mineralized phosphorescent nature of geological formations. Instead they had Crazy Charlie and his crypto exploits. What better time to hear about monsters and aliens?

  THE GOLD CITY PAWN SHOP

  LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

  Sarah felt the single car come to a whispering stop. She even heard the computerized voice of Europa announcing they had arrived at gate number two, sublevel three. The automatic cover of the car slid back and still Sarah sat unmoving. One of the security men, alerted at the pawn shop that a car had arrived but thus far no one had signed into the gate, greeted her.

  “Lieutenant?”

  Sarah finally looked up and seemed to be lost for a moment. Then she realized where she was. “Sorry,” she said, “it’s been a long day.”

  “Are you signing out of the complex?” the air force sergeant asked as he gave Sarah a hand stepping out of the car.

  “Yes, I’m signing off base for the next twelve hours,” she answered as she headed for the elevator that would take her up to the gate.

  “Uh, ma’am?”

  Sarah grimaced, stopped, and looked back, irritated that her leaving was being delayed by one of Jack’s former men. If she received one more look of sympathy from that department she was going to hit someone. “Yes?” she hissed.

  “Lieutenant, you’re breaking about fifteen different regulations. You know you can’t sign out in that jumpsuit, right?”

  Sarah looked down at her Group-issued military blue suit. She even had her ID tag still hanging from the pocket. She lowered her head when she realized she had to go all the way back and change into civilian attire. She started to return to the magnetized car on the single track that ran down the ten-mile-long tunnel far beneath the city of Las Vegas.

  “Ma’am, we have clothing upstairs in the shop. It’s in the locker room and you’re welcome to it. Shorts and blouses is all we have.”

  Sarah looked up at the sergeant and nodded her head. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Going into town?” he asked as he escorted her to the elevator.

  “No, I’m going to see someone.”

  * * *

  The team had been stationed in the nondescript van outside of the Gold City Pawn Shop for the past hour as they observed the comings and goings of customers. One saw a small woman step to the door escorted by one of the large men from the counter of the shop. He opened the door for her as she stepped out into the hot night air of downtown Las Vegas. The man inside the Tahoe raised his small camera with the miniature telephoto lens. He snapped off several pictures of the small dark-haired woman. He noticed she was wearing sunglasses even though the sun had slipped behind the western mountains hours earlier. He watched until she hailed a cab and left.

  The man removed the digital chip and then inserted it into the laptop computer. He brought up the pictures of the woman in short pants and a black blouse. He recognized her from somewhere but couldn’t place her. He looked into the back of the van and waited for one of his technicians to give him some answers. The man examined the pictures of the woman and then shook his head.

  “Nope,” he said shaking his head. “She never entered the shop through the front. I don’t know where she came from, but it wasn’t through this side of the building. And we can see that in the back there is nothing but an alley, and she doesn’t look the type to go strolling through an alley at night in downtown Las Vegas.”

  “Right,” said the man in the front as he turned in his seat and examined the woman again. He shook his head as his memory failed him. “Send this on to Mr. Smith, and get a tail on that cab.”

  The technician in the backseat started talking on a set of headphones, and as he did he e-mailed the blown-up pictures to Smith, who was observing the house where Colonel Jack Collins was.

  As the cab holding Sarah turned away from the curb, heading toward Flamingo Road, a tan Plymouth pulled out of the pay parking lot across the street and quickly followed. The tail on the woman was on the move.

  * * *

  One minute
later, parked only a block away from the house under surveillance, Mr. Smith looked at the photos that had been forwarded to him from his pawn shop team.

  “Well, it seems we have confirmed that all of our eggs came from the same basket.” Smith smiled as he started to formulate a plan to finish what his team was paid to do.

  “We may have just found our way into wherever this woman and Colonel Collins have been hidden away.”

  “When do we move?” one of the men in the backseat of the car asked, eager to get moving toward a more action-filled night.

  “I think when this little darling returns to her secret hideaway, she just may have company.”

  The two men in the backseat exchanged looks just as the yellow cab pulled up in front of the tract home they were watching.

  “Yes, indeed, it is a small world,” Smith said as he compared the photo on the laptop to that of the actual woman stepping out of the cab.

  Smith closed the lid to the laptop and then watched as the small woman headed for the front door of the house.

  “Inform our friend in Langley that we have a way in to this mysterious lair. And we should have the formula destroyed soon.” Smith was careful not to include the word recovered. He remembered the smoking corpse of Juan Guzman and what this material may have done to him. He knew he wouldn’t touch the stuff nor would any of his team.

  As the call was made, Smith watched as the woman entered the house, and then he looked at the driver.

  “Sound the alert for the assault team. We move at a moment’s notice,” Smith said as he turned back to the man on the phone in the backseat. “And ask for orders concerning American personnel at this location and the pawn shop.”