“Why don’t I give Blake a shout and call him up on his cell phone. I got a phone right here!” Dennis joyously offered.
“Good thinking, Dennis. What would we do without you?”
Chapter 34
Oasis
Dennis dialed Blake’s cell phone number. No one answered. Blake lay tangled up in Sarah’s coat and a maple branch that fell through the lean-to in the night. The noise woke Blake and he managed to find his cell phone. Shivering and covered in leaves, Sarah began to rustle about as she nuzzled deep into Blake’s large warm body. Blake sat up and disrupted her nocturnal bliss, dialing Dennis’s cell phone number.
“Dennis? Are you there, you little bastard?” asked Blake. His left elbow pressed into the cold earth.
“Blake? Is it really you?” Dennis tapped Dr. Liggin’s arm and nodded wildly.
“You bet.” Blake grinned.
“What’s going on, Blake? Where are you?”
“I’m not really sure where we’re at…somewhere in the woods near The Palace. We ran into trouble last night, Dennis. Things are really screwed up! Fortunately, we escaped, but I don’t know about the others. They could be captured for all I know. There were gunshots and tires squealing. It didn’t sound good. The last thing I heard was a rifle firing. I heard two shots and it was over.”
“Well, I’m sure glad you’re alive, Blake. I thought I lost you.”
“Thanks, little buddy.”
Sarah nudged Blake. She asked him if Dennis ever called Dr. Liggin. Blake asked him on her behalf.
Dennis replied, “Hell yes I did! He’s right here. Do you wanna talk to him?”
Blake looked at Sarah and asked, “Do you want to talk to him?”
“Yes. Please!” Dr. Liggin and Sarah were both given their respective cell phones.
“Dave? Are you there?”
“I’m here, Sarah. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked.
“I’m fine. I’m cold, but I’m alive. Listen, this is a real mess, Dave…a serious mess. The FBI’s involved in this now. They’ve got an undercover from a Special Ops team inside Caesar. And I think he might be exposed. He’s definitely at risk. You have to talk to Dale and have him get Jack Wilson out of there. They’re having their monthly meeting to discuss CAR and I’m afraid that if they saw him last night, he might…well, he might not make it through the day.
“These guys mean business, Dave. They were shooting at us. And they might have killed two of the agents we were with. They could be dead.”
“Okay, Sarah. What’s important is that we get you out of there safely. We aren’t far from you. In fact, we’re at Dover’s Cliff, which is just outside of Roosevelt Private Reserve. Is that where you are?”
“Yeah, I think so. But we’re deep in the woods right now.”
“Right.” Dave started to laugh. “And the road is blocked off because of your accident!”
“What accident?”
“They had you killed last night. Don’t you know that you’re dead?”
Laughing and sliding out of the lean-to, Sarah said, “I knew it was going to happen, but not so soon.”
“Well, it’s official now. I talked with Dale just a few minutes ago. He’s here too.” With those words, Sarah had a huge weight lifted off of her. “He knows that you’re alive. Now, we have to get you out of there. So I need both of you to head south until you come across Buffalo Creek. It outlines the reserve and circles back southwest to the highway. We’ll be waiting for you at the bridge.”
• • •
Sarah told Blake everything Dave had said. They immediately started heading south, leaving their compact shelter behind. As they shuffled through the fallen leaves, Blake and Sarah moved quickly through flowing creek beds and over fallen trees. Before long, they came upon a considerably larger creek.
“This must be it,” exclaimed Sarah. “Let’s go southwest.”
They did exactly what Dr. Liggin told them to do. After a couple hours of walking through the cold, wet woods and damp creek, they saw a bridge in the distance. They had finally made it to the highway.
Blake squinted as he looked at the bridge. With dense pines and boulders on both sides of the ravine, the large opening let in a significant amount of daylight. He could remotely see two figures standing in the middle of the bridge, looking down into the water below. The sun heated his back and he stared at the dark figures on the bridge. As they drew closer, Blake saw one of them jumping up and down, excitedly waving his arms as if he were directing air traffic. Blake dropped his head and shook it from side to side.
Same old Dennis. Some things never change, he thought to himself.
Sarah put her right hand over her eyes to block the glare from the late-morning sun. “I think I see them.” She smiled and waved her dirty hands as she joyfully greeted Dennis and Dr. Liggin from a distance.
After they climbed up the steep hill, the two groups were reunited. Sarah and Dave embraced, as well as Dennis and Blake. It was a rare occasion for Blake to express his feelings for Dennis. However, he affirmed how much he valued his friendship; not so much with words, but with a hug and a look that only two best friends can understand, a priceless moment that Dennis would cherish all the days of his life.
As the group met with Dale and introductions were made, Blake was drawn to a stack of steel piping that stood near the side of the road. He cocked his head to one side to observe the metal structure, looking around Dr. Liggin’s head. He stepped onto the gravel at the edge of the road and dropped the backpack from his shoulder. Staring as if in a trance, he ambled toward what seemed to be an oasis. The rest of the crowd kept visiting, but Sarah noticed her new friend wandering away.
As Blake came closer to the structure, he saw patterns and shapes that were very familiar. The steel structure almost looked like a silhouette of the Loch Ness Monster, coming out of the overgrown grass and back down again. The steel had shapes protruding from the frame that resembled a head and a portion that stuck straight out of the ground like a tail. Yet as the image came into focus, it became clear that the shape was formed from four-inch steel pipe. It was painted yellow and had several oddly shaped fittings intermittently dispersed throughout. He recognized the layout. It had a similar form as the one in Chapleaux. The yellow paint was the designated color code for a natural-gas line. The fittings consisted of ball valves, regulators and temperature and pressure relief valves normally found on a gas-metering station. Twenty-two years as an oilman was enough for Blake to understand what was at stake here and what the significance of this oasis meant to his mission in New York.
Dennis noticed that Blake had left and began to say something, but Sarah grabbed Dennis’s arm, shook her head and said, “I think he needs a little space…he’ll come back.” Together, Dennis and Sarah watched him stop and study the odd-looking structure in the distance.
Blake looked closer at the fittings. They were almost always stamped with an arrow showing the direction of the flow of gas. Blake rubbed the thick pipe as if he had some kind of connection with it; as if it was telling him something, whispering words of fate. Sure enough, the large fittings had big embossed arrows. They consistently pointed northeast, back toward the forest and The Palace. Blake continued to walk north along the side of the road until he came to an orange pole that had an arrow pointing north and a tag that read:
Danger: There is a natural-gas line buried here.
Call 1-555—GAS—LINE for assistance.
Blake didn’t need assistance. He wanted something far more valuable. He wanted to rectify the memories of a lost community, buried by the corrupt agenda of a few elite men. They cared nothing for the friends, family and traditions of that once tight-knit group of Canadians he loved so much. Without looking back, Blake pressed on. He followed the direction of the gas line, connecting the dots from pole to pole until he came to the entrance of the Roosevelt Forest Reserve. The arrows on the poles continued to point in the direction of the road leading into the reserve.
<
br /> Blake stepped off of the road and into the woods. He stayed just far enough away to remain out of sight, but close enough to still see the markers. Although he was shivering from the cold temperatures and the long walk in the cold breeze, Blake was glad to be in the woods. The trees blocked much of the northern wind and the smell of the outdoors filled his nostrils with the strength to press on.
Blake concluded that if he continued to track the gas line all the way to The Palace, he would have no other choice but to take the investigation into his own hands. He was determined to use the skills God gave him to cleanse the world of the evil that lurked behind closed doors, and inner circles of the elitist secret society. He considered the fact that The Palace had been constructed by the very misfits that Caesar kept under its thumb. He realized that they took for granted the value of the workers and skilled labor responsible for erecting their lofty estate. Finally, he thought about his life and his family and all that he had been through: the hard labor, the years in his trade, the sacrifices he made for his family. Suddenly, it all came together. He realized that he too had a significant function in life, and that his skills and circumstances were meant for a greater purpose, one that Caesar apparently did not consider in its all-wise plan. In that moment, he reckoned that if his intuition was correct, then he, of all people, would have stumbled upon the most ironic conclusion of the coldest autumn he had ever known.
Chapter 35
CAR
Dr. Liggin, Sarah, Dale and Dennis waited over an hour for Blake to return. The ATF and local authorities closed down the crime scene in order to reopen the highway to full traffic. Dennis decided he’d look for Blake. He started by calling Blake’s cell phone.
Blake didn’t answer.
“What are we going to do?” Dennis asked.
“We’re going to have to cut him loose,” said Dale, scratching his scalp. “We can’t stand here all day. Besides, we have to get Sarah out of sight.”
“Exactly. I think he’ll be fine,” insisted Sarah. “He knew exactly what to do last night and how to sleep outside in cold temperatures. He’s amazing. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
Dennis threw his hands in the air. “Well…we can’t just leave him out there…alone!”
The others glared at Dennis and said nothing.
Dennis felt the heat from their staring and looked down in embarrassment. “I’ll stay here and wait for him!”
The others congratulated him on his well-thought-out plan. The group exchanged contact information and dispersed. Soon all the cars that once filled the side of the highway were gone except Blake’s truck and Dennis. He sat on the roadside railing, alone without his friend once again. Eventually, he grew tired of waiting and returned to the hotel.
• • •
A few hours later, Sarah, Dr. Liggin and Dale Roslow were discussing their plans at the New York ATF field office in Brooklyn. Dale’s office was in Washington, but his New York associates let him use a conference room to go over the case in private. Barely large enough for a midsize table for eight, Sarah entered, familiar with the drab walls inside a federal building. The room was furnished with a fake fig tree in one of the corners and a small table with a coffee maker, supplied with sugar, spoon and powdered creamer. The coffee smelled freshly brewed and filled the room with its bittersweet fragrance. The room flickered from weakening ballasts inside the fluorescent lighting.
Dale grabbed a chair and Sarah and Dave began pouring coffee. Dr. Liggin shot a glare at Dale, sensing his uncomfortable demeanor. Dale returned a stern gaze and then nodded toward Sarah.
Dale sat down, cleared his throat and said, “Sarah, I’m taking you off the case.”
Sarah turned from the coffee maker. “What? No!”
Dr. Liggin’s eyes shifted from Sarah and Dale, readying for an exciting show.
“You’re an excellent analyst and field agent, but you’re not trained in field combat.”
Sarah’s face went pale. “I don’t care what I’m trained for, this is my case.”
“It was your case, Sarah. But you’re dead, remember?”
Sarah’s chin stiffened, her eyes roaming, searching her thoughts.
Dr. Liggin grinned and poured his coffee. He turned and faced Dale, stirring. “You think she can leave things undone like that? I thought you knew her better than that.”
Sarah turned toward Dale. “I’m not quitting.”
Dale sat up in his chair, looked at Sarah and studied her penetrating eyes.
“It’s not about quitting, Sarah. It’s about keeping you alive. It’s abou—”
Sarah yanked out one of the chairs from under the table and lifted her right leg and stomped down on the seat. “We’ve already lost two eyewitnesses, Dale. If you take me off, you’re going to get some dork who couldn’t care less and end up with a botched-up mess.”
Dr. Liggin stepped forward, slowly lifted his eyes and said, “They will try to kill you. You know that.”
Sarah sat down and rested her elbows on the table. “Listen guys. I really appreciate your concern. But I’m not quitting. You can say I’m off the case if you want, but I’m not leaving Blake and Dennis out there on their own. Besides, if Caesar is behind the explosions, I’m the only one you’ve got who knows anything about them.”
Dale sighed and dropped his head in frustration.
Dr. Liggin caught Dale’s eye and lifted his brow, acknowledging the validity in Sarah’s point.
Dale ran his fingers over his balding head. Then in a brief moment of submission, he conceded. “Fine. You’re in. But we’re all in this one together or it’s over. Understood?”
Sarah nodded.
“Will you join us on this one, Dave?” asked Dale. “You know too much and we need your contacts.”
Dave sat down and stared at both of his friends, examining their determination. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do what I can. Besides, I have a few ideas.”
“Great!” said Sarah, excited to have an opportunity to partner with her old mentor. She threw the backpack on the table and started shuffling through its contents. “Let’s get to work.”
“What’s that?” asked Dale, looking over Sarah’s shoulder.
“Thanks to Blake, we have a bagful of files, audio and video that Jack and his team collected. We’ve got names, faces, phone taps and a whole lot more in the van. But I’m sure they’ve destroyed everything in the van by now.”
At that moment, Dr. Liggin stood up and gently pushed in his chair and solemnly interjected, “None of that matters.”
“What? What do you mean?” asked Sarah as she turned to look up. “Of course it does. We have documentation and sound bites that are absolutely incriminating.”
“I get that, Sarah.” Dave’s eyes seemed to lose some their strength. “But none of it is going to ever see the inside of a courtroom.”
“Uh,” Sarah was stumped. “Wh…what are you talking about, Dave?”
“I’m talking about Caesar.” Dr. Liggin raised his voice in frustration. “I’m talking about one of, if not the most powerful and influential secret society in the world! They don’t obey our laws. They don’t even recognize our legal system. And they sure as hell aren’t going to allow us to stop them from pursuing their agenda. They’re too powerful! They’re too impervious. You can bug their phone lines and track them with GPS all you want. They will just relocate to another continent if we become too much of a nuisance. The only way for us to impact their agenda is to pull their hopes out from under their feet. And we cannot do that alone or in secret.”
“What do you suggest?” asked Dale, his gray eyes glaring, wrinkled with confusion.
“To begin with,” said Dave, “we have to stop thinking that we have to maintain some kind of covert operation or undercover status. You can’t investigate them without them knowing about it. Instead, what we need to do is bring them out of the darkness and into the public eye. We need to make their intentions known. We need to put them in the spotligh
t. We need to somehow educate America that there are secret orders of elite individuals, intentionally manipulating our lives for their own selfish and evil pursuits.”
Sarah asked, head tilting with doubt, “How exactly do we do that? Buy airtime? Maybe an ad in next year’s Super Bowl? I can see it now…” Sarah spread her hands out as if physically making a frame with her hands. “Okay, football fans! Time to wake up to a new reality! Just when you thought you were on a winning team, a new secret society has taken control. Oops, they scored again! Better luck next season!”
Chuckling from Sarah’s sarcasm, Dr. Liggin agreed. “It may come to that, but that isn’t exactly what I had in mind. Listen, we’re not fighting a physical battle yet. At this point, we’re still fighting a battle for the minds of all Americans. We have been the great experiment and the experiment has succeeded until now.
“From what I see at the University, we’re losing the battle. The marketing and cultural reformation imposed on us by the Giants has changed us quite dramatically over the last few decades. Students are coming to MIT, of all places, completely sympathetic to a globalist national policy and absolutely unaware of the brilliance of our Constitution and Bill of Rights. They come to class with their iPods, American Idol paraphernalia and Game Boys, intent on entertainment, unaware that they’re losing their ability to think. They don’t realize that the many distractions are all part of a greater plot to draw them away from the ideals and principles foundational to our freedoms.”
“Okay. I think we can all agree on that. I see that in my own life and my struggle to escape through entertainment. But what can we—as in the three of us—do to get stop that? Is that just the market or really a conspiracy? I…I’m not convinced,” said Dale.
Dave wiped his eyes, clearing his thoughts. “We have to give up the expectation that they’re going to be hauled off in handcuffs. That just isn’t going to happen. We can, however, begin to educate Americans of their schemes. We have to play by the same rules they’re playing by. We have to think like they do. And in order to do that, we have to understand what they’re trying to do and why they want to do it.”
Killing the Giants Page 18
