Harold and the Angel of Death

by Gary McPherson

  Harold traced his steps back, searching for any sign of a trail or broken sawgrass. At last he found what he was searching for—footprints in the soft ground partially hidden by the low grasses. They would have been easy to miss if he hadn’t been searching diligently. Harold veered to his right and followed the footsteps to a short drop off. There he found thick bushes sitting against one another. Although they were native to the Caribbean, he thought they seemed a little out of place. Growing up in California, he knew lush plants didn’t grow in a desert landscape or rough mountainous terrain without an increase in water and more of the same plants nearby. Yet, here sat a group of lone cocoplums near the seawater’s edge without another plant anywhere on the island.

  His father had taught him about camouflage as a teenager. Harold would sometimes join his father at a test range to see a weapons test. The secret to finding something that did not belong was to look for it hidden out in the open. He looked closer. In the center of the plants was a bump in the sand. Harold reached down and found a handle. The plastic bush separated from the real vegetation, and the door swung open. A small concrete bunker sat before him. Harold stepped into and then squatted inside the small space. It was little more than a glorified duck blind made from concrete. He felt around, but there was no radio or storage, just a short concrete shelf where Alice likely placed her laptop and perhaps a small radio. Discouraged, Harold pushed and twisted his way free of the hiding place and closed the camouflaged door.

  The path back was long and painful. Harold stood at the top of their traditional meeting hill when he heard the buzz of a large drone. High above, a speck in the sky increased in pitch and accelerated straight over the island in the general direction Chuck had gone. Harold started back down the trail. He caught sight of the beach below. Garcia had moved the gun boxes and pieces of the deflated craft to fashion a large arrow in the sand pointing in the direction Chuck had disappeared. Harold made his way towards the beach. Darla was resting in a chair; a small blood stain had formed on her shirt.

  “How bad is it?” asked Harold as he approached her.

  Darla tried to shrug but then winced. “I think I tore some stitches.”

  “Do you want me to look at it?” Harold asked as he reached for her shoulder.

  Darla pulled back. “No, I’ll be okay. Help will be here soon.”

  “I saw the drone.”

  Darla’s face formed pained expressions as she spoke. “Oh, that isn’t the cavalry. That was just a predator drone. I’m sure Alice sent it to see what’s going on. I expect they’ll be along shortly. Why don’t you sit down?”

  Harold grabbed a chair that had been knocked over and sat down next to Darla.

  “What were you looking for?”

  “I don’t know. I thought maybe I could see Chuck or maybe he would change his mind and try to double back. I’m worried about Joshua and Maria. Chuck’s really gone, and we’re stuck here unable to contact anyone.”

  Darla used her good hand to pull Harold’s hand into her lap. He looked into her eyes, and she leaned in to kiss him. He could feel her lips quiver with pain.

  Darla released her kiss and said in a determined voice, “Don’t worry. If he’s within fifty miles of here, and he is, that drone will take care of him.”

  The still, salt air belied the chaos around them until it was broken by the roar of a fast-moving boat. A Navy riverine cut through the waters with speed and determination and then slowed as it beached. A second craft came into view before the first silenced its engines. The Special Boat Team disembarked and formed a quick perimeter around the beach as the second boat made its landing. A crewman attempted to help Alice out of the small craft, and she slapped his hand away.

  Easily clearing the craft’s ledge, she made a small splash in the shallow water. Alice pointed at Garcia as she walked up the beach. “You, with me, and take off those ridiculous sunglasses.” She then pointed at Darla. “Somebody take a look at her shoulder and stop the bleeding.” Lastly, she turned her attention to Harold. “You, don’t move. We need to have a chat.”

  Garcia removed his sunglasses and skulked quietly behind Alice to the normal meeting area and then disappeared over the hill as they continue walking. A medic came over, and Harold moved out of the way. He knew Darla did not need him hovering over her while she was having her shoulder tended to. Harold wandered over to the boxes and noticed the bullet holes. Many of the rifles inside had sustained damage from the barrage but had managed to stop the bullets from penetrating from the other side. Garcia’s body imprint firmly packed the sand where he had hidden behind the shallow boxes during the gun battle. Three empty handgun magazines lay in the sand. A single smart rifle lay near the imprint with its magazine still in it. Harold picked it up and ejected the magazine to find it spent of ammo. He dropped both back on the sand at his feet.

  Harold looked over at their stricken craft. He was surprised to see bullet holes from this side. One of the Navy crafts sat where Chuck’s boat had been earlier. There could not have been any cross fire. It looked as if Garcia had shot at the boat as well as at Chuck. A chilling thought entered Harold’s mind, What if Garcia really is dirty? Darla and I had our heads down. Did Chuck really escape the way Garcia claimed or was it all made up? Harold walked over near the location Nigel should have been. Unfortunately, in their haste to secure the beach, the Navy crewmen had managed to stomp out any signs of footprints and had even covered the blood trail.

  Alice and Garcia appeared back at the top of the hill. Alice followed him partway down the hill, stopped, and hollered, “Harold, I told you not to move.”

  Darla raised her good arm. “My fault.” Her slurred speech told him the medic had given her some pain medicine.

  Alice pointed to Harold. “Never mind. Grab two chairs and bring them up here.”

  He started to acknowledge her, but she had already turned and headed back over the top of the small hill. Garcia walked over to him as he gathered the other two chairs that lay on their sides. Garcia’s eyes pierced into Harold’s. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Did what?” asked Harold. “I’ve had enough games for one day. What are you talking about?”

  “You and Tom went behind my back.”

  “I don’t need your permission to run my company,” Harold quipped.

  Garcia put on his sunglasses with exaggerated determination. “We’ll talk about it later. Alice is not a patient woman.”

  Harold headed up to Alice with the two chairs.

  Alice was waiting just over the ridge. Her foot tapped, and her arms were crossed in front of her.

  “Where do you want these?” asked Harold.

  Alice pointed directly in front of her. He placed the chairs down.

  Alice pointed at an empty chair. “Sit.”

  Harold complied. There was something about Alice that made him feel like a schoolboy in the principal’s office. He sat quietly as Alice glared into his eyes.

  Finally, she broke the silence. “Mr. Brown, I want you to know that you have caused me a great deal of trouble.”

  Harold started to protest, “My company put those trackers in according to your specs.”

  Alice cut him off, “I’m not talking about the stupid trackers. Don’t worry. I know certain computer chip maker I’ll be having a conversation with concerning today’s fiasco.”

  “I think it could be Garcia.”

  She leaned forward. “What about Garcia?”

  “I think he could be dirty.”

  “I know every move Agent Hernandez makes. Nothing gets past me. You can be assured of it. Speaking of which, that’s my problem. What made you think you could get around the CIA by going to your political allies?”

  Harold did not say a word. He knew he had done nothing wrong, but there was something about Alice’s demeanor that made him feel guilty.

  She took a breath and leaned back into her chair. In an instant, her expression changed. Her squinting eyes and tight cheek muscles rela
xed, and then a smile crossed her face. Harold knew he was well out of his element.

  Alice continued talking, “I believe I have a solution that satisfies not only you and your precious company but the CIA and the politicians.”

  Harold’s right eyebrow rose slightly. “Really? I thought you’d kill the merger and bankrupt the company.”

  Alice gave an icy laugh. “Oh, I thought about it. However, the idea you and Tom are pursuing is not without merit. A larger defense company would have an easier time hiding certain black box research. As I understand it, you want to avoid being involved in fieldwork.”

  “I’m not equipped for this kind of life.”

  Alice smirked. “That’s obvious. Now, getting back to your company, you’ll be happy to know that I want you and Tom to stay in place. Tom’s military background and history with the company makes him a great fit. Your family’s legacy keeps PDS respectable. You only need to pursue some R&D in one of your buildings on the agency’s behalf. Consider it a skunkworks department. In exchange, I’m willing to deliver to you certain properties I know you desire.”

  “Those would be?” asked Harold. Inside, he hoped he would hear the words.

  “The Sweet Revenge and Salvation Key.”

  Harold kept his expressions in check. “Okay, that might work, although I’m not sure I want that island. I miss Malibu.”

  Alice raised her arms up and stretched. “Excuse me, that boat ride was a bit tedious.” She lowered her arms. “I’m afraid you can’t go back home.”

  “What?” asked Harold in shock.

  “No, that came out wrong. You can visit home, after we find Chuck, but you just can’t move back home. Mr. Brown, you have made several new friends and powerful enemies. Between the senator’s suicide, John’s murder—”

  Harold cut her off, “That was self-defense.”

  Alice stopped for a moment and then continued, “John’s death, the decimation of your rival companies, and then your backroom greasing to get approval for Maria’s marriage, you have left quite a wake behind you. While I can help with some things, interjecting myself or the agency into untoward political matters could cause a lot of unwanted questions and perhaps leak our deep cover work here to the press. I like you, Harold, but not that much.”

  He crossed his arms. “So what? I’m in some sort of exile? I thought this was America.”

  “Yes, and you are free to go where you want. However, if you want your plans for the merger to go through, and to receive the compensation for your troubles of relocating, you have to play ball. Technically, your new island is in international waters. Consider your location the ultimate tax shelter. Officially, it places you out of the country, which means you are out of the crosshairs of certain politicians.”

  “Play ball, huh? Is that what you and Garcia told the late John Richmond?”

  Alice’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you know about that operation, and I don’t care. I was not involved with Agent Garcia at the time, but I can assure you, Mr. Brown, I have considerably more sway than Agent Hernandez.”

  “Wait,” Harold’s voice turned anxious. “You had me so focused on my company I forgot all about Doc. Where is he? Chuck said he was going after everyone we love.”

  Alice’s face relaxed. “Dr. Zeev appears to be quite busy in North Carolina. It seems he and his friend Dr. Adam are diligently trying to find your brother. Maria also enjoys working at the children’s home near Thomasville. I wish we had more people like them in this world.”

  “How do you know about Bill? Are you helping them find him?”

  “Given today’s little drama, we don’t have a choice but to help Dr. Zeev.”

  Harold leaned forward. “Wait, how do you know all that?”

  Alice smiled and said, “Please.”

  Harold pointed at her and interrupted, “Don’t you dare. Tell me what’s going on with Doc right now.”

  She surprised Harold by taking his hand while it was still extended and held it the way his mother used to. “Harold, they are safe. I had a man shadowing them while they were in North Carolina. We were concerned Chuck might try to find them if things went wrong. As soon as Garcia failed to radio in at the appointed time, we picked them up. They should already be wheels-up out of Concord. Fortunately, race car drivers fly their business jets in and out of that airport all the time, so one more business jet doesn’t draw anyone’s attention. They are perfectly fine. They should be back at Salvation Key before we get there.”

  Harold gently pulled back his hand. “So, Doc told the agent this stuff on their way out of town?”

  “Not exactly. He protested having to return and said he did not intend to leave until he found your brother. When our agent explained the situation, he and Maria left immediately.”

  Harold sat back. “Good.”

  Alice leaned back towards Harold. “So, do we have a deal?”

  Harold looked into Alice’s eyes. Unlike Garcia’s deadpan expressions, her face showed sincerity. “Of course.”

  “Excellent,” she responded.

  Harold heard one of the riverine boats start its motor. “We should hurry.”

  Alice put up her hand. “Slow down. We’re going to take the second boat.”

  “What about Darla?” Harold asked.

  “She will meet you at the…excuse me, your island.”

  Harold crossed his arms and scowled.

  “There are times I can see why she likes you. Unfortunately, we do need to talk about your relationship.”

  Harold cut her off, “That’s our business. I’m out, remember?”

  “Yes, but are you going to have a problem if she continues working with us?”

  “I didn’t have a problem before.”

  Alice bent over and rested her elbows on her thighs. She looked at Harold like a concerned aunt. “I know, but after today, after the mess I saw down there, I thought you might have a different opinion.”

  Harold shook his head. “You weren’t here. She shot Nigel in the knee with one of the fastest shots I’ve ever seen and only with her pistol.”

  Alice sat up. “You’ve seen a lot of shooting then?”

  Harold shrugged. “Dad would take Tom and me out in the desert to play with some guns. We had a good time. Dad would get prototypes from engineers or companies that hoped they could get Dad to expand into more weaponry.”

  Alice sat up and crossed her legs. Harold was surprised how quickly she could change her mood. He could still feel a tension between them, but looking at Alice, anyone else would think none existed.

  “What sort of prototypes did you shoot?”

  “Shouldn’t we be going after Chuck?” asked Harold.

  The smile momentarily left her face. “Mr. Brown, I can assure you we have this situation is under control. Nothing gets away from our drones. He doesn’t have that large a lead on us.”

  Harold’s forehead crinkled. “It’s a big ocean.”

  “It’s a big sky,” Alice shot back.

  Harold unfolded his arms and allowed his shoulders to droop. “Okay, you win.”

  “Good.” Her smile grew larger, and the tension Harold felt eased a little. “I believe we were talking about your shooting experience.”

  Harold clasped his hands in front of him. “We were talking about Darla.”

  “Of course, I believe you were telling me you were okay with her remaining in the CIA.”

  Harold shook his head. “I was trying to tell you I am okay with Darla doing whatever Darla wants to do.”

  Alice’s hand tapped her knee. “Does that include working with the CIA?”

  “If that’s what she wants.”

  Her hand stopped. “Good. Now, back to my other question, you said your father would receive gun prototypes. Where did he keep those?”

  Harold shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me. I’d assume they’re stored somewhere at the company or they were destroyed.”

  A frown passed across Alice’s lips and then just a
s quickly vanished back into a smile. “Do you mind if my people have a look around to see if we can find them?”

  “I do, very much,” said Harold. “I’m sure Tom and our people can find them if they still exist.”

  Alice uncrossed her legs. Her face became serious. “Good. I have one other thing, but it is top secret.”

  Harold sat up.

  Alice continued, “If we’re going to be in business together, I want you to call me by my real name. Keep in mind that it’s need to know.”

  “Finally, something I need to know,” quipped Harold.

  Alice’s eyes narrowed a bit. “You don’t just accept what you’re told very well.”

  Harold shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “So, let’s hear the big secret,” joked Harold.

  She leaned forward. “You do realize if my name gets out it could mean my death.”

  “But Darla and Garcia are what, expendable?”

  “Some names are more real than others, but they may not be what our parents called us.”

  “Do you mean Darla’s been lying to me?”

  Alice patted his knee. “Nothing could be further from the truth. Darla and Garcia’s past work were done under other names.”

  “Then why did you let Chuck know who they are?”

  “We had to draw him in. However, not everything found in a personnel database or a birth certificate is always one hundred percent accurate. As you know, my truth is not always the truth.”

  “I’ll never understand how you people do it.”

  “Yes, well, we all have our talents. Perhaps I should keep my name to myself.”

  “Tell me or don’t. I already assume half of what Garcia tells me is a lie. Why should what you say be any different?”

  Alice leaned back. “Of course you do.” After a short pause, she said, “My name is Poppy Clark.”

  A snicker passed from Harold’s lips before he could stifle it.

  Alice raised her eyebrows. “My name amuses you?”

  Harold waved his hand in front of him. “No, no. I mean, it was just unexpected. If I’m honest, I find your demeanor quite stern, for a woman or a man. Poppy is not what I think of when I’m around you.”