by Jack July
Amy shook her head and said, “That’s not the Tatiana I know. I’ve spent months with her. I’m sure if she was that person, I would have seen it.”
Jack dug for something, anything, to try to make her understand, “No, no, you don’t get it. You see what she wants you to see. There is no person in there, only actors, dozens of pretend people she calls on to be who she needs to be at any given moment. She’s a monster, Amy, please listen, she is nobody’s friend.”
“I can’t believe that. A monster? No, no, you just don’t know her. Yes, she has a job to do, and it’s probably violent at times, but I know when somebody cares about me,” said Amy.
“She does care about you, that made-up person cares about you because that’s what she needs. It’s not real. Nothing about her is real. Please honey, you need to listen,” said Jack, almost begging.
Amy didn’t say anything; she just looked out across the yard.
Jack kept digging, “What did she say to you? What did she offer? She offered something, didn’t she?”
Amy shook her head and said, “I’m sorry, I can’t say anything.”
He kept on going and said, “She did, she did. Didn’t she? What was it? I know what it was. It was something that grabbed at your heart, something that played on everything she knows about you. Something horrible, so horrible that will keep you from sleeping at night. Was it terrifying? Painful? Think Amy, think about what I’m saying, th—”
Amy interrupted him and nearly shouted, “OKAY, OKAY, I GET YOUR POINT.” Then her voice became softer and a little more under control and she said, “That’s enough now, let it go. I know what I’m doing, please, just let it go.”
Jack bowed his head, feeling defeated, like he failed. Amy put her hand on his shoulder and said, “I heard you, okay? You were right about some things. You have given me a lot to think about, all right? I hear you.”
Jack nodded his head as they both heard Carla Jo coming up the driveway.
Carla Jo got out of her car and smiled, glad to see Amy. “Where the hell did that dog come from?”
Amy hugged her, gave her a kiss on the cheek and said, “It’s been a long day.” Amy didn’t know it would be getting a whole heck of a lot longer.
A symphony of electronic locks clanked in progression as Brandon Bolin looked up from his book. Two guards and the warden stood outside of his cell. The warden barked, “Stand up!”
“What’s going on?” Brandon asked.
“Stand your sorry ass up and walk to the hall,” the warden barked again.
They put shackles on his wrists and feet then walked him through the catacomb of doors until they stepped outside. A panel van pulled up, Brandon was roughly thrown in and taken away.
CHAPTER 21
NOVEMBER 20th 9:00 pm
Carla Jo offered to drive Amy home and she accepted. She grabbed the large envelope that Tatiana had given her and put it under her arm. Her Uncle Jack saw it and asked, “What’s that?”
Amy stumbled for a second and said, “Military papers and stuff.”
He looked at her, nodded and then thought she’s already lying.
Carla Jo dropped Amy at her dad’s and she walked in the front door. Coolness still permeated the house. Probably a leftover from the argument over the dog, she thought. She saw Carol sitting in her chair, so she walked over and gave her a hug and said, “It’s okay about Patsy Cline, I understand. Uncle Jack will take care of her.”
Carol let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to hurt Amy, but she had strong feelings about animals in her house. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”
“You’re welcome,” she said with a smile, “Now let my daddy off the hook, okay?”
Carol laughed and said, “Okay.”
“I need to do a little reading; I’ll be in my room,” said Amy
She walked into her room and locked the door. She opened the flap on the envelope and dumped everything onto her bed. There were two wallets; the first was a thin one with an ID. A CIA ID Amy’s CIA ID. The second had a Tennessee driver’s license, credit cards, a gas card, a library card, an ID card for Tennessee University Knoxville and other odds and ends for a woman named, Elle Mae Judd. The driver’s license had her picture on it. She opened the file to find it was a dossier. She sat on the bed and read page after page of the detailed life of a young woman who didn’t exist. She looked at the driver’s license again and thought, Elle Mae Judd, good lord why didn’t they just go ahead and use Clampett? Although, this would be easy to pull off. A med student from Tennessee? I can do that. A small knock at the door got her attention. It was her daddy, “Are you hungry honey?”
“Sure, I can eat.”
A few minutes later she was ladling some pintos and smoked pork hocks over a split piece of corn bread. Next to it she scooped some fried potatoes and green tomatoes out of the skillet and parked them right next to the beans and cornbread. Boiling in the pot on the other side? Collards. Apparently, Granny Patches had invaded Carol’s kitchen. Her mouth was watering like one of Pavlov’s dogs. She ate like she hadn’t eaten in a week. Exhausted, she collapsed on the couch with her feet up on the ottoman. Her daddy sat down next to her and handed her a Mason jar of sweet tea. She set it on the end table. “How are you feelin’?” her daddy asked.
“Better than I’ve felt in a long time,” she said with a smile and a sigh.
Her daddy grabbed the remote to turn on the news. The volume was down. Suddenly, a picture, the same picture of a little girl Amy saw just a few hours earlier, filled the screen. Amy sat up quickly and said under her breath, “Kristy Ann Wilson.”
Amy’s daddy turned up the sound when the announcer began.
“Still no leads on the two week old case of the abduction of Kristy Ann Wilson. She was taken two blocks from her home in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. If you have any information, please contact the FBI at the number at the bottom of the screen. Earlier today, her parents, Connie and Al Wilson, took to the airwaves to plead for their daughter’s safe return.”
The screen changed to a man and a woman standing behind a bank of news microphones. The woman, her eyes red, her face pale and drawn, began to speak. Clearly she wasn’t prepared and didn’t quite know what to say. She choked out, “Please, please bring my baby home,” Amy’s mind flashed to a scene of the video she saw earlier. Connie then choked up and lost her composure. Al took to the microphones, and through tears said, “If you know anything, please call.” Amy’s mind flashed to a different scene as Al continued, “If you have my little girl, please bring her back. We will give you anything, all we have, just please, please, bring her home.” Then Amy’s mind played the video when the knife flashed.
Leon looked at Amy and asked, “How did you know that little girl’s name?”
Amy turned her head to look at her daddy, one lone tear rolled down her cheek. Amy’s face had turned dark and her eyes seemed to be searching for something.
“Amy, what’s wrong?” asked her daddy. She remained silent. “Amy, talk to me, what’s wrong?”
Amy’s voice was detached, like it wasn’t hers. She said, “Daddy, I have to go.”
She got up and went to her bedroom to retrieve the card Tatiana had given her. She picked up the phone and dialed the number; it rang once, then a man answered, “Hello?”
“Yes, this is Amy Braxton. I was told to—”
“Yes, ma’am,” the man interrupted, “I’ve been waiting for you since eighteen hundred hours. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Waiting where?” Amy asked.
“Rock Creek Regional. I’m your pilot, Moses.”
“See you in forty-five minutes,” Amy said, and hung up. Grabbing a small tote from her room, she tossed in her toothbrush, some underwear, a pair of jeans and a sweater. Then she put her CIA ID in her pocket and walked back into the living room, “Daddy, I need a ride to Rock Creek Regi
onal.”
“What is going on?” asked a confused Leon.
“We’ll talk on the way,” said Amy.
“Amy, I need to know—”
Amy cut him off, “Daddy, I need to go now. If you don’t want to take me, I’ll call Uncle Jack.”
“Okay, let me get my keys,” said Leon.
Five minutes down the road Leon said, “Okay, now would you tell me what’s going on.”
“No, I’m sorry, I can’t. But what I can tell you is I’m goin’ fishing. When I’m done fishing, I’ll call you and tell you whether or not I caught anything. Tell Uncle Jack I said bye. You can tell him I’m goin’ fishin’ too, okay?”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Just as soon as Leon got that out of his mouth, he rounded a bend and saw state troopers lined up on both sides of the road. It was a sobriety checkpoint. “Uh oh,” said Leon.
“What’s wrong?” asked Amy.
“I had a few sips in the barn,” said Leon.
The state trooper walked up to the window and said, “Sir, can I see your driver’s license?”
Amy flipped her ID open, held it up and said, “We need to go, NOW.”
The Trooper looked at the ID, looked at her, looked back at the ID and called his sergeant over. His sergeant looked at the ID and said, “Sorry for the delay ma’am, please continue.”
They drove away when Leon looked over at her and said, “Okay. Now what the hell was that?”
Amy stoically said, “Classified.”
They turned up the road to the airport and stopped at the front door. Leon tried one more time, “What does this have to do with that little girl?”
“I’m goin’ fishin’. I love you Daddy,” Amy hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Leon could see the Citation Excel running with the lights flashing. “Is that yours?” he asked.
“Yes sir. Bye, Daddy,” she grabbed her bag and walked away.
He watched her walk through the double glass doors, then through the second set of doors and out to the Citation. The pilot darn near bowed to her as she climbed aboard. The door shut and moments later it taxied away. He parked off to the side of the road to watch the plane take off. As it thundered by and leapt toward the sky, Leon prayed to himself, Please, Jesus, take care of her.
CHAPTER 22
November 6th 9:00 P.M.
Aida and Kristy looked up as they heard a squeaking of brakes and clanking from a truck out front. Moments later came a knock on the door and Aida answered it. A man walked in and said in Spanish, “It’s time for them to go.”
Aida nodded and opened the door to the back room. The girls all walked through the living room. Some waved a small wave and a little smile at Kristy. They knew that because of her they were fed more than they would have been. Kristy wondered where they were going or if they would be back. They wouldn’t.
An hour later Geraldo arrived with instructions for Kristy. She could not understand them, but she saw Aida become very upset.
“But, I can’t leave, this is my house,” protested Aida.
“No, it belongs to Rosa. You will accompany her and you will make sure she is healthy and safe. That’s what Rosa asks from you and that is what you will do. You will be picked up tomorrow morning.”
Geraldo had rented a cabin on the outlaw freighter Constantinople. Kristy would be spared the discomfort and indignities of being placed inside a dark cold shipping container for the three-week journey.
“What about me? What will I do? How can I get home? Please, Señor Reyes, don’t do this to me,” Aida begged.
“Make sure she is delivered, then we will talk about asking Señor Rosa for forgiveness. Until that happens, her life is more important than yours,” said Geraldo. He then turned and walked out the door.
Aida sat on the couch next to Kristy and began to cry. She knew no one ever came home.
November 21th Midnight
Spur of the moment decisions leave little time for thought and planning. Moses let Amy know that they were descending into D.C. Something occurred to Amy: she had no idea what to do when she arrived. She’d spent the trip studying everything Tatiana had given her to the point where she could recite Elle Mae’s history. Unsure of her next step she yelled up to the cockpit, “Excuse me, Moses?”
“Yes ma’am,” replied the pilot.
“I ah, well, I don’t know where to go when we land,” Amy felt a little embarrassed.
Moses looked over his shoulder with an understanding smile. He turned back and said, “Miss Braxton, if they sent me after you, there will be someone standing at the bottom of the stairs when we park. Don’t worry, you will be fine.”
“Okay, thanks,” replied Amy. She leaned back in the seat and tried to relax.
The plane taxied to a stop, Moses dropped the stairs and there at the bottom stood Tatiana. “What took you so long? I should be in bed by now,” said Tatiana with a smile. Amy turned and shook her pilot’s hand and said, “Thank you.” She turned to Tatiana, “Okay, what’s next?”
“We get some sleep. It’s going to be a long week,” said Tatiana.
They walked to the long black two-door Mercedes and Amy opened the passenger door. She grunted at the weight. “Why is this door so heavy?” “It’s armored. I’ve made a few enemies. You can’t be too careful,” said Tatiana.
That’s just great, thought Amy. “So is there a bounty on you or something like that?”
Tatiana smiled and said, “Probably more than one.”
Tatiana drove fast and smooth from Andrews Air Force Base to her home in the East Village of Georgetown. She quickly pulled into the garage of the sixty-three hundred square foot classic Federal. “Don’t get out,” she ordered, “wait till the door closes.” Tatiana watched the mirrors to make sure no one slipped in on them. Amy didn’t catch any of it; she was blinded by rossa corsa, also known as Ferrari red. The F-50 sat on a carpeted space in the garage looking like a space ship from another planet. Amy was in love. “Is this yours?” she asked while climbing out of the car.
“Yes,” said Tatiana with a sigh, sounding disinterested.
“The CIA must pay well,” said Amy, walking around the car.
Tatiana laughed and said, “No, not really. I think I made about a hundred and forty-five thousand last year. Only reason I know that because I had to sign my tax form. When we work, which is 24/7, the government picks up the tab.”
Amy looked inside and said, “Is it fun to drive?”
“I have no idea, I have never driven it. The dealership comes once every three months, picks it up, tunes it, drives it, brings it back and parks it. I was invited to the Ferrari driving school in Italy but I just never had time.”
“Then why did you buy it?” asked Amy.
“I didn’t. The Sultan of Brunei is very generous when you protect one of the royal family.”
Amy just shook her head as she followed Tatiana into the house. She looked around the vast kitchen full of restaurant quality appliances and said, “Wow, is this nice.”
“Thank you, are you hungry?” asked Tatiana.
Amy shook her head and said, “No, I had a big dinner at my daddy’s.”
Just then, a chubby Latino woman appeared around the corner. “Good evening Señora Aziz, why are you up? Is there something wrong?”
“No, Carmen, everything is fine. I would like you to meet my friend Amy. She will be staying with us.”
“Will you be having breakfast in the morning?” asked Carmen.
“Yes, about seven thirty, thank you,” Tatiana said as she reached for her and gave her a little hug.
“Follow me,” said Tatiana to Amy.
“You have an elevator in your house?” asked Amy incredulously.
“Yes, it’s five levels. Stairs would be tiring,” said Tatiana.
&n
bsp; “You have a maid?” asked Amy.
“No, Carmen is from Guatemala. Human traffickers kidnapped her daughter. She never saw her again but she killed some of the men responsible. They, in turn, killed her husband and her oldest son. They captured her, intent on killing her and her youngest son. We stumbled onto them, rescued her, and I brought her back with me. She lives here, keeps up the house, cooks and runs errands for me. In return, I put her youngest son through college. She could leave, but she likes it here and I like having her here. I’ve never considered her a maid, just my friend. That sweet woman is like a vicious attack dog with a trigger finger. She’s good to have around,” Tatiana said with a little grin.
At every turn Amy saw opulence and luxury she didn’t know existed. “If you don’t mind me asking—”
Tatiana cut her off and said, “This place isn’t mine, I just live here for as long as I want. The House of Saud is very generous when you rescue a member of the family. This is your room.”
Amy walked into the large bedroom with a king size, four-post bed, it’s own fireplace, sitting area, bathroom and large soaking tub. Tatiana gave Amy a hug and said, “Get some sleep; you will need all you can get. We have a big day tomorrow. I’m going to throw a lot of information at you and I expect you to get it the first time.”
They exchanged goodnights and Tatiana walked out the door. Amy was over-tired and was afraid she couldn’t sleep. She stripped to her underwear and a T-shirt, pulled back the covers and slid into the thousand thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. That feeling almost made her moan with pleasure. She then buried her head in the large goose down pillow and fell fast asleep.
CHAPTER 23
