A Dubious Position (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 7)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  “He wants me to call him back very soon,” Banyon told her. “So, let’s get down to business.”

  Marlene was much friendlier now and seemed eager to please Banyon. “Colt, let’s get all this paper work done right now so we could have a nice lunch, okay?” she announced with a hundred watt smile.

  Banyon took out a pen and said, “I’m ready.”

  Marlene reached below the table and brought up a slim attaché case. She pulled out a folder brimming with paper. She opened it and pushed the first page to Banyon. “This is your employment contract. It says that you are a contract employee paid the annual sum of one dollar. The money is to be paid to the LCH Detective Agency, LLC. There is also a list of bonuses that you will be paid for finding documents, artifacts, and people. If you succeed, you will be wealth man,” she commented.

  “I’m already wealthy,” he said.

  “It also says that either party can cancel, at any time, with no penalty.”

  Banyon quickly read the document and signed it. “What about employment hours, etc?”

  “This document says you are not required to work on any schedule and you can work from anywhere you choose. Good negotiating,” she brightly commented as she smiled at him.

  “Where is my home base of operations?”

  “We have made arrangements with the legal firm of ‘Dewey & Beatem’. They have offices in Chicago, Washington, New York, Los Angeles, Dallas and Las Vegas. Chicago is the main office, but you can commandeer any office or staff you need.”

  “Do they expect me today? He asked.

  “You can use their services effective today. When you go to their offices in Schaumburg, see Heather Vance. She is the office manager. You do not need to meet with the principals unless you want to.”

  “I’ll go there this afternoon to introduce myself.”

  “Heather will be your major contact for all the offices. Just call her and she will arrange everything anytime you are headed to one of their other locations.”

  “Good, I have a home in Las Vegas,” he told her. “I spend much of the year there.”

  “I do need to warn you. They are not a conventional Law office.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that while they do handle legal matters, they are also a rally point for operations that the government does not want the public to know about.”

  “So, they have several offices that are used by people on a special assignment, like me.” Banyon commented.

  “Yes,” she replied. “But the staff is rather unconventional as well.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” he answered with raised eyebrows.

  She selected another sheet and passed it to Banyon. “This is a Presidential letter. Do you know what that is?”

  “Yes, I do. I can require any Federal employee do follow my orders, without question. I can also requisition any Federal assets as well.”

  “That’s correct. Use it wisely,” she told him.

  “Most of the time, I prefer to use my charm,” he joked. She just smiled at him.

  “Here is a list of federal employees reporting to you. The list includes: Maya Patel she is listed as an archeological field agent. She is Chicago based and has a regular job, but can take time off whenever you need her. It also says you can use additional contract employees as required.”

  “I have a team of people I use most of the time,” he told her.

  “I have met Maya, she is beautiful. I also understand that most of your team consists of women. They must be very capable,” she added as she blinked her eyes at him.

  “They are,” he replied.

  The DOJ continued. “Did you bring your encrypted phone? I have a new one for you. It includes my private phone number as well as the Presidents. Call anytime, if you need anything.” They exchanged phones and Banyon put it in his satchel.

  “There is another document signed by the President. It says that by Presidential order, no Federal employee is allowed to write your name on any document including any report on a crime. It seems you are invisible, Colt.”

  “Marlene, let’s make sure it stays that way,” he encouraged her.

  “If I ever see your name on a report, I will censor it immediately,” she promised.

  The process took another ten minutes and concluded just in time to have a good lunch of fresh fish. The DOJ was now very cordial. “I do know there is a problem with several government employees, but I am not in the Presidents confidence about who and why. I hope to eventually gain your confidence.”

  “I hope so too.”

  ***

  When lunch was finished, Banyon stood and gathered all the papers. He told Marlene he had to respond to the Presidents call immediately.

  “You can call from here, it is secure,” she invited.

  “It’s a private situation,” he replied as he headed for the door.

  “What does he want?” she said as she left the table and strutted towards him.

  “He will have to tell you that,” Banyon responded. “At this point the less you know about me and what I do, the better.”

  She suddenly was very close, he could smell her perfume. She offered her hand and engulfed his in both of hers. It was an intimate moment, and he recognized it. He then left the restaurant.

  Her final remarks were sincere, “I hope we will become good friends.”

  ***

  As he walked up the street back to his car, he realized the President had met all of his demands and he became more confident in his new position. He didn’t want anyone else to become aware of his capabilities and the President seemed to understand. The risk was just too much to allow.

  He pulled out his encrypted phone and called the number for the President. He answered in two rings. “Mr. President, this is Colton Banyon”

  “Thank God you finally called,” the President nervously replied.

  “What seems to be the emergency?”

  “My granddaughter has been kidnapped. You have to find her.”

  Chapter Three

  Banyon immediately picked up his pace. He was five minutes from his car and the privacy he needed to help the President.

  “Mister President, I don’t know if I can help you unless a Nazi or the Effort is involved.” The President’s request was Banyon’s worst nightmare. The reason for the need for secrecy was once people found out about his abilities; he would be besieged with requests and demands to find things that didn’t involve Nazis. He wasn’t sure, he could get his source to comply nor if he himself wanted to.

  “Please you must find my granddaughter,” the President pleaded. “It’s my entire fault. I shouldn’t have let her go.”

  “I’ll try my best,” Banyon quickly responded. “I’ll need some information to find the historic timeline.”

  “Tell me what you need,” he quickly responded.

  “I’ll need a place, a time, and a name to start the search.”

  “Her name is Kelly Cable. She was in Cancun, as of three days ago. I sent three Secret Service agents there yesterday. The Mexican authorities have not been very helpful. They told my men the white sex-slave trade is very active in Cancun.”

  “White sex-slave trade?” Banyon repeated.

  “Yes, they suspect one of the cartels is involved. She is a beautiful girl — and young too — only seventeen. They told my men she would be a prime candidate to be kidnapped. I can’t accept that.”

  “Do you have the flight number she took for Cancun?”

  “Why do you need that?”

  “A historical timeline research has to start with a definite place and time. We can then follow the history and find out where she is today. Without a starting point, it will take much longer,” Banyon replied.

  Banyon heard a shuffling of papers in the background and suddenly the President blurted out a flight number. “She was on US Airways flight 949. It left Washington three days ago at 9:00 A.M. Does that help?”

  “That’s what I need, s
ir,” Banyon said as he tried to be cheerful. “I’ll call you as soon as I have something.”

  “I’ll have my men in Cancun stand by so they can rescue her,” the President promised. “We can also bring in addition men, if needed. I have a SWAT team ready to enter Mexico. They are less than an hour from there.”

  “But…?” Banyon began, but was interrupted.

  “I know that it looks like an invasion, but they will have Mexican police uniforms. You can buy them on the open market in almost any border town in the U.S. We have done this before.

  “I’ll get back to you soon,” Banyon promised and hung up the phone.

  Chapter Four

  Banyon quickly called his son and told him to open the garage door. He told him he had an urgent meeting and he would not have time to talk to him right now. His son agreed to open the door and wait for him. Banyon’s son knew his father well and had dealt with Banyon’s erratic behavior before. After he hung up his phone, Banyon started to run.

  While Banyon was over sixty, he was still in pretty good shape and figured he could run the five blocks to his car. He thanked his parents for his good genes as he ran. He was six feet tall and around one hundred and ninety pounds, on a muscular frame. If not for his loss of hair, he could easily pass for fifty. He credited his endurance to his girlfriend.

  As he turned the corner, he saw his car running in the roadway. The driver side door was open. Good kid, he thought. He had left his keys with his son, who didn’t own a car, in case he needed to go out. His son claimed he didn’t need a car in downtown Chicago, but often borrowed Banyon’s green Jaguar.

  “I’ll fill you in on everything about my new position as soon as I finish my meeting,” he yelled breathlessly to his son.

  “Where are you going?” the son asked.

  “I’m heading to the Law offices of ‘Dewey & Beatem’, to my new office.

  “Dewey & Beatem, really?”

  “Yup,” Banyon replied as he slammed the door and threw the car into gear. The big V8 engine effortlessly pulled the car from the curb. Banyon watched his confused son wave as he squealed around the corner. He drove several blocks and then turned into a small park. He stopped his car under a large oak tree. All he needed was privacy to make contact.

  “Wolf, are you there?” he yelled out. Banyon’s secret was that he could speak to a spirit. It had all been arranged several years ago, when a curse had been placed on a then living man named Walter Pierce. His real name was Wolfgang Becker. Wolfgang, or as he preferred to be called, Wolf, had arranged for the curse so he could hunt old Nazis when he died. He had picked Colton Banyon as his conduit because they had actually grown up in the same house on Eastern Long Island. The spirit could find anything by looking at history. He had once told Banyon everything that had happened on earth left an energy trail and Wolf could follow the trail until he found the object of his search. Sometimes, it took a long time because there was no starting point, but given a time and location, he had never failed. The only rules were Banyon had to ask a question and Wolf could not tell him about anything in the future.

  “Yes, I am here,” a deep, older, voice filled the interior of the car, although only Banyon could hear him. Even if they were in a crowd, Banyon was the only conduit.

  “Did you hear my conversation with the President?”

  “I have already located her,” the spirit replied.

  “So we can save her?”

  “I normally can’t help you unless a Nazi is involved, but fortunately one is involved with her kidnapping.”

  “A Nazi, in Mexico?”

  “Colt, during World War II, thousands of Nazi’s were located in Mexico. After the war, many stayed and started new lives. But the Nazi we seek today does not live there.”

  “So, where is he?”

  “He works for the government in the U.S. and is a senior member of the Effort. That’s why I can help.”

  “Not the Effort again,” Banyon commented with a moan.

  Banyon knew about the Effort, but not everything about them. The Effort was actually an organization established in the nineteen thirties in Germany. Its primary goal is to take over America and reestablish the Third Reich. It was well-planned and funded by German plunder, before and during World War II. Several people were planted in the United States in the nineteen-thirties. Using the plunder money they had taken over many industries in the USA and also worked themselves into prominent positions, even in politics. There were now second, third generations and even fourth generations involved. They were a very strong and hidden organization. Banyon had faced them several times before.

  “I’ll need to know all about that, but right now, can you tell me where the President’s granddaughter is so that we can rescue her?”

  “The President is correct; she is in the hands of a white sex-slave group. There are five other young women with her.”

  “What is her location?” Banyon had a piece of paper and a pen at the ready.

  “She and the other girls are located in a cartel owned house. They have been there for two days. The address is 2243 Francisco May in North West Cancun.”

  “Is she alright?”

  “She and the other girls have been drugged and are currently being trained to be sex slaves. I don’t think you need any further description.”

  “How many men guard them?” Banyon asked through gritted teeth. Wolf was right, he needed no further description.

  “There are six men. They rotate their responsibilities. Three are always on duty, watching the house. The other three train the girls. The President needs to hurry; the plans are to move the girls in six hours. They will be split up, then.”

  “Which cartel owns the house?” Banyon asked.

  “They are a new group and call themselves the ‘Machos’. They took over much of Danta Lopez’s business.” Banyon and his team had helped to bring down Danta Lopez about a year ago.

  “The President has only three men in Cancun. Can they use local police to help rescue the girls?”

  “The Cancun police chief is on the Macho’s payroll and arranged the kidnappings of all six girls.”

  “Damn, he’ll want to know that. Why did they grab her?”

  “It is all part of a bigger Effort plan, Colt. They want the President to be so despondent he takes his eye off of them.

  “Why didn’t they just kill her? Wouldn’t that accomplish their goal?”

  “Colt, these Mexican Mafia men are greedy, as well as evil. The cartel expects to fetch as much as a hundred thousand dollars for the President’s granddaughter. The Effort believes she is dead.”

  “That also makes them stupid,” Banyon replied knowing Wolf would not respond without him asking a question. “I’ll need to call the President now, but will you be available for updates as this unfolds?”

  “I will be here, as always.”

  “I have one more question. What is the Efforts’ plan?”

  “Colt, it is very complicated and will take more time to explain. Why don’t you call the President first — the plan can wait.”

  “All right,” Banyon said with a measure of frustration. “At least tell me who is directing all of this?”

  “I’ll tell you, but don’t tell the President yet. He has enough on his mind and we don’t want him to over react.”

  “I’ll keep the name to myself. So, who are we after?”

  “His name is Paul Slezeck.”

  “You don’t mean the Paul Slezeck who is the Director of Homeland Security, do you?”

  “Yes, he is our next Nazi to take down.”

  Chapter Five

  Banyon decided to collect his thoughts before he called the President. His main concern was Homeland Security might be involved in the rescue of the girls and it could wind up as a disaster. Homeland Security employed a fast attack strike-force that had unlimited powers over life and death. It had been established after the Katrina hurricane to help protect people in a devastated area. After hurricane Ka
trina had devastated New Orleans, many police and civilians had taken the law into their own hands. Many people died. The fast attack strike-force was developed to institute law and order in disaster areas. It had also been used many times to reduce threats to America in several states and countries. It was top secret and tightly controlled. The individual, who had pushed for the attack force and currently commanded it was none other than Paul Slezeck.

  Banyon pushed the button on his encrypted phone and he was immediately connected to the President.

  “Have you got anything?” The President immediately asked.

  “She is alive and being held in a house in Cancun. You need to hurry as they intend to move her in less than six hours,” Banyon told the President.

  “I’ll have boots on the ground in less than two hours,” he quickly replied. “Give me the address. How many men are we dealing with?”

  Banyon complied and quickly asked, “Who are you sending in? I can have my contact track them and keep us all informed.”

  “I’m sending in a Navy SEAL team from San Diego. They will leave in fifteen minutes. Is that enough information?”

  Relieved, Banyon said, “yes sir. But there is more to this plot than you currently understand.”

  “What does that mean?” the President demanded.

  “Get your men going first and then I’ll explain,” Banyon replied. The President put the phone down and Banyon could hear him giving orders in the background. Soon, he was back. “What else do you have to report?” he asked officially.

  “The Cancun police chief is involved. They have actually kidnapped six young girls in total. Your men must rescue them, as well.”

  “Stop,” the President ordered and dropped the phone again. Banyon could hear him ordering the demise of the police chief in the background. “What else?” he gruffly asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

  “The Mexican Mafia is also involved. This new group is called the ‘Machos’. Their men are the ones guarding the girls.”