The loyalty he talked of could’ve referred to his joints, or to the doctor his mother naively trusted, who had plotted to take them captive. Or perhaps he was warning Billy about the perils of his dangerous devotion to Carolyn.
Then like a professor, André moved to his detailed map of the plantation. He pointed out weak points where he thought they could best attack. Red Xs marked security cameras, while blue Ss signified security posts. Points of interests were highlighted, such as the slave quarters where the other CIPA soldiers were incarcerated. Also the stables in which the “stallions” like Chuck were kept, and entrances to underground tunnels where Beth and André’s mother were likely detained.
André indicated that they had a small window of opportunity to get in. He believed Jordan’s death would create a brief interlude of chaos as the trainers and doctors battled for control, in which the plantation would be vulnerable. But they would have to strike quick.
When class ended, they returned to the living room. Dana was focusing on the small screen of Beth’s BlackBerry. Carolyn was making quick work of her sandwich and washing it down with milk, the traditional white. They both looked like they were ready for Halloween, their faces still painted Duke colors.
“Does the name Hasenfus mean anything to you?” Billy asked André.
He shrugged. “Nobody actually gave their real names. They spoke in code, things like Lead Doctor, or Trainer #3. But through my mother, I learned two names. The lead doctor was Samuel Jordan, which allowed me to track him down. I’ve been in the area for a month doing reconnaissance on him.”
“What was the other name?”
“The head trainer’s name was Stipe, but I’ve yet to locate him.”
Dana used Google to search the name Stipe. In between endless listings for websites devoted to REM lead singer, Michael Stipe, was a security company called Stipe Security. Dana clicked on the link and Franklin Stipe’s arrogant face filled the screen. “That’s Hasenfus!” she exclaimed.
Billy finally remembered the name of the man he’d met at the plantation. The one who was posing as an FBI agent at the train station. Franklin Stipe was listed as the founder and CEO of Stipe Security. Their logo was plastered all over the website—the two “Ss” that looked like vertical snakes—the same logo as the one on the chip implanted in Carolyn’s back.
It was all coming together now. Using some knowledge from his past life of Klein, specifically their endless quest to hide money, Billy figured Stipe Security’s real purpose was to act as a money laundromat, created by Operation Anesthesia to fund Operation Anesthesia. And whoever set up this company was the person in charge of the operation. Jordan and Stipe were just soldiers.
André appeared bemused by concepts like the Internet and BlackBerrys. “Wow, before I was captured the coolest thing we had was Atari,” he said with a sad shake of his head.
At that point, Billy truly understood André’s regret—his life had been stolen from him. So much had happened in those twenty years. He needed the past to matter. All the struggles had to somehow be worth it.
Billy knew all too well about having a life stolen away. But he also knew the danger of the rear-view mirror. There was nothing they could do about the past, but there was something they could do about the future. With that in mind, they headed toward Jordan Plantation.
Chapter 79
Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning.
An old sailor’s proverb, and one Billy hoped wouldn’t be prophetic. They traveled in the small motorboat across Buggs Island Lake toward Jordan Plantation. The sky of the morning dawn was painted red, looking as if Carolyn had gotten loose with her crayons.
André captained the small vessel over the calm waters. Billy, Dana, and Carolyn acted as the deckhands. They had gone over the plan at the apartment in Raleigh, a plan André had been plotting for months. He transported a one-man arsenal of artillery in a backpack he had strapped to his back. Just like Carolyn, he could feel weight but not pain, and the backpack hunched him over.
They then drove to Occoneechee State Park. It was twenty-six hundred acres of wilderness and campgrounds beside the lake, named after the Indian tribe that once ruled the area. André had hidden a motorboat at the vast park earlier in the week, and with Billy and Dana’s help, they launched it from one of the parks three boat launches. Billy was feeling good about the decision to purchase the wetsuits.
On the journey across the lake, the apprehension could be cut with a knife. André broke the quiet tension by opening up about his pre-Operation Anesthesia childhood. Billy wondered if it was a ploy to take everyone’s mind off the monumental task at hand. Or maybe he was preparing his obituary. If someone on the outside knew the story of his life, then maybe he really existed and his life would matter.
He didn’t talk of the circumstances of being captured, or his time incarcerated at the camp, instead he chose to focus on his time growing up in Montreal, where he lived with his mother after his parents divorced. A strained marriage anyway, the stress of André’s mysterious childhood illness turned out to be the breaking point. He proudly mentioned that he was named after fellow Montreal native, André Bessette, the miracle-curing priest who began St. Joseph’s Oratory. As they got closer to the shores of the plantation, Billy knew they’d need their own miracle to pull this off.
Carolyn, as usual, was the least apprehensive. Logic said it was because her ignorance was bliss. But Billy knew she was just fearless by nature, unaffected by any circumstances, no matter how death defying. And now qualified to be National Transportation Secretary, she compared the boat ride to the other forms of transportation she’d recently experienced, which she listed, “An airplane, a helicopter to the children’s hospital, Martin’s cab, a motorcycle, a van,” she let out a theatrical sigh, “and too many trains to count.”
“Which did you like best?” André asked.
Her face scrunched in thought. “I’d haff to say the train.”
“Why is that?”
“No car seats in the train.”
He nodded knowingly. “It is never good to be confined in this world. Even if it alleviates dangers, or if the trip is bumpier without it. Freedom is oxygen to the soul.”
She giggled. “You talk funny.”
André smiled as he patted her on the head. But any good feeling was fleeting. It was now time to get down to business.
They anchored the boat about twenty feet offshore. André explained that Operation Anesthesia went to painstaking lengths to never call attention to themselves. And hundreds of boats like theirs passed this spot each day. So nobody would be shooting at them out on the lake. But once inside, all bets would be off. Nobody had ever penetrated Operation Anesthesia before.
André dove in first. A rope attached his backpack to his wetsuit, which floated behind him as he swam. As big of a struggle as walking was for him, he effortlessly glided through the water, his joints appearing whole once again. Dana was right behind him. She again surprised Billy, mentioning that she was a champion swimmer as a youth.
Billy carried the most precious cargo. Carolyn rode on his back, a swimming version of the piggyback rides he often gave her. And just like those, her hands eventually found there way around his neck and unintentionally choked him. But he was still able to get her safely to shore.
Hidden a few hundred yards inside the exterior brush was a fifteen-foot high, stone built wall that looked like an 18th-century fort. It was most likely created to keep out the Occoneechees, but the current security methods went far beyond the height of the wall, or the numerous private property-no trespassing signs planted nearby. According to André, the interior wall was lined with an invisible, electric fence that would fry you instantly. They could scale the outside, but once inside, there was no retreating back over the fence.
That was one reason the plan called for only André to go onto the plantation grounds. Another was that he felt the rest of them would complicate the pro
cess, stating that too many cooks in the kitchen spoil the broth, a favorite quote of his mother. The mission for Billy and his crew was to help André’s debilitated body over the fence, then return to the van and prepare for a getaway at the front entrance. André’s plan was to take advantage of the current vacuum of leadership to find and free his mother, along with Chuck and Beth. No easy task, and he would have to shoot his way out. But they knew this was their only shot.
André got right to the first order of business. He took out the rifle from his pack and screwed on a long snout—a silencer. He aimed at the hidden hunter’s perch, built into one of the thick trees that surrounded the wall. If André hadn’t told them it was there, they would never have noticed it.
Just before firing, André turned hesitant. Billy understood his dilemma. The guard in the tree was most likely a CIPA kid taken from his home in the middle of the night. They might have been friends or shared the bond of the battlefield. But then Billy saw a steadfastness appear over André’s face like a solar eclipse, blocking out any other emotion. He squeezed the trigger. The shot was drowned out by the squawking of the morning birds. The guard slumped over, dead.
They had to move quickly. Billy boosted André onto his shoulders, and then helped raise him to the top of the wall. The top was about two-feet wide, and unlike the interior wall, safe to the touch. Once he was in position on the wall, it was time for the part of the plan Billy anguished over all night. The part Dana had pleaded with them not to attempt. But there was no other way.
Chapter 80
A security camera sat on a tree just inside the fence. It was pointed at the exact spot on the plantation grounds where André would land after leaping off the top of the fence. He knew he would set off the silent alarm, regardless. But if the camera could be manually moved to the right, it would create a false negative, giving him enough time to disappear. It wouldn’t buy him a lot of time, but fractions of a second would determine success or failure. Life or death.
Problem was, none of the adults were small enough to maneuver across the top of the wall to a position where they could turn the camera. André knew the camera was bulletproof, so shooting it down was not an option. That left one possibility. Carolyn got on top of Dana’s shoulders, and Dana subsequently got on Billy’s shoulders. They raised Carolyn to the top of the wall and André pulled her up.
“Please be careful,” Dana muttered.
“Take it slow,” Billy whispered.
Carolyn looked at him like he was speaking Greek. Her fearlessness worried him most. But he was also concerned that her sneakers, still wet from the swim across the river, might cause her to slip.
She began taking baby steps along the top of the wall like she was walking the tightrope at the circus. She wasn’t graceful. No movements of a four-year-old ever were. She wobbled a couple times and Dana looked like she was physically holding back a scream. Carolyn needed to cover approximately ten to fifteen feet, although for Billy and Dana, it might as well have been a mile. It was excruciating to watch her, but she made it effortlessly, and then looked back, flashing a “proud of herself” grin.
“Now turn the camera that way.” Billy pointed in the direction he wanted her to move it, and then strongly added, “really slow.”
As Carolyn reached for the camera, Dana’s breathing pattern evaporated. André was ready to leap into enemy territory the moment the camera was turned. All their fates were resting on a four-year-old girl.
Then just as she was about to move the camera, a scared look overtook her face and she hopped backward. Billy saw what she saw. It was the Stipe Security logo on the camera, the two Ss.
“Snakes,” she said, frozen with fear.
“It’s okay, Carolyn, it’s just a picture,” Billy tried to calm her.
She looked ready to jump out of her skin. Snakes, naps, and dragons were Carolyn’s version of Kryptonite. Then, as if the camera were awoken from a slumber, it hissed a mechanical sound and auto-shifted positions. It startled Carolyn, causing her to lose her balance. “Whoa,” was the last thing Billy heard her say.
“Carolyn!” Dana screeched.
Carolyn disappeared from view, falling onto the plantation grounds. Billy instinctively scaled the wall, a feat Spiderman might marvel at, purely fueled by an adrenaline rush.
André immediately leapt down toward her, landing painlessly with a graceful somersault
Billy wasn’t surprised by what he witnessed from his vantage point on top of the wall. Without a hint of pain, Carolyn picked herself off the ground—bloodied, but not feeling it. But she was still scared and disorientated. She ran away from the fence, the unaltered camera tracking her every move.
Then Billy’s heart sank again. He could see the armed men in the distance, maybe twenty of them, and they were headed toward Carolyn. An army marching over the horizon, rumbling through the morning fog. It was like watching your child fall into the lion cage at the zoo. He’d never been so scared in his life.
“What’s happening, Billy?” Dana shrieked from the other side of the fence.
“Go to the boat, Dana!” he yelled back at her. Somebody had to be saved.
André ran after the girl. As smoothly as he swam, he struggled to run, each step was agonizing for Billy to watch. It was as if his head and joints weren’t on the same page. The backpack must’ve been weighing him down, because he shed it. But he was still holding his high-powered rifle. He didn’t seem fazed that there were twenty of them versus only one of him. He had the same fearlessness as Carolyn.
The sight of the soldiers sent Carolyn back in Billy’s direction. “Dragons are coming!” she yelled.
André tried to change direction also, but fell. He rose and took shots at the oncoming army, who were once his comrades. It bought him a few seconds to struggle to his feet and head toward Carolyn. When he saw where she was headed, he yelled, “No, Carolyn—don’t touch the fence!”
Billy wanted to jump in, but knew it would be suicide. If he died, then she died. It would be like jumping in a pool with an electric cord in the water. He was going to go anyway, but André threatened to shoot him if he did. The message was clear—the success of the mission trumped Billy’s suicidal loyalties.
Carolyn wasn’t listening. Billy knew the only things registering in her mind were “Dragons” and “Get to Billy.” He represented safety. But in this case, he was anything but.
“Carolyn—stop!” Billy yelled.
It didn’t compute. She ran faster, rapidly closing in on the wall. It would fry her instantly!
André dropped his gun and used the last burst of energy he had left in his crumbling body. As fast as the Anesthesia soldiers closed the gap on him, he closed it on Carolyn. His limbs were twisting in discombobulated angles as he ran.
“Billy...I’m coming...dragons!” Carolyn yelled as she ran toward her sure death.
Billy was paralyzed with fear. All he could do was watch and hope for a miracle. The cucumber was no longer cool; in fact, it was now sizzling on the barbecue.
Thankfully André didn’t freeze. He caught Carolyn from behind and hog-tied her to the ground, just inches from being deep-fried.
But they still faced a big problem. The soldiers had surrounded them, and the wall couldn’t be scaled. They were trapped. Custer faced better odds.
André looked at Carolyn, and then at Billy on top of the fifteen-foot high wall. The well-trained army was cutting off their path in the other direction. Billy could tell his mind was made up. Carolyn was better off dead than spending the rest of her life without freedom. Billy believed nobody had the right to be playing God with anybody’s life, but he was comfortable that if Carolyn had the facts, she would agree. As would Chuck and Beth.
André struggled to pick her up. He wasn’t tall enough to put her on his shoulders and have Billy pull her up. The only chance was to throw her.
André cradled her in his arms, swinging in a rocking motion, trying to build momentum. He would need all he could get
. Carolyn was light, but André’s joints were weak, and fifteen feet was high. Billy braced to catch her. He hoped.
“Move and we’ll shoot,” yelled the leader of the army in a robotic voice.
They were out of time.
André released Carolyn and she flew toward the top of the wall. At first she looked like she might fly over Billy’s head, but then her momentum hit an immovable object: gravity. She hovered for a second, and then began to plummet like one of those birds Chuck shot during their hunting excursion. She wasn’t going to make it!
Billy reached out desperately to grab her. As he did, she hit the top corner of the wall and caught her ankle. Barely missing the frying pan!
But out of the frying pan and into the fire. Her body ricocheted back toward Billy, crashing into him, and they awkwardly tumbled off the wall. Billy wrapped his arms around her to protect her. She might not have felt the pain, but she could do major damage to her small body and internal organs.
They pounded to the ground with a thud.
On the safe side!
Billy had once dislocated his collarbone playing football, and instantly knew he did it again. He grimaced as he snapped it back into place. The pain was overwhelming—he certainly didn’t have CIPA. But he looked at Carolyn, who was still very much free and alive, and realized the pain was the best feeling he’d ever felt.
They ran to Dana, who was manning the getaway boat. As they sped away over the morning water, Billy kept looking back at the wall. A wall that was ironically protected by those it held captive. It kept getting smaller. He kept hoping for André to come barreling over it, but he knew he wouldn’t. André had sacrificed himself for Carolyn.
Then Billy was hit by another grim truth. What just took place might have been there last chance to save Chuck and Beth. And now with Jordan out of the way, and the plantation security breached, there was a good chance that Operation Anesthesia would, like Dracula, retreat to the darkness, only to be seen again when they thirsted for blood.
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