The funeral hole of Jack Mayes appeared in her mind. She remembered her husband’s casket being lowered into an endless scream and felt misery and pain grab her heart to kick it. Then...silence. Everything went gray and black as a horrible, piercing, buzzing sound filled Jessica’s mind.
“Die!” Dave yelled.
He dropped down onto his right knee and eased out from behind the work truck to fire off eight rounds at Mandy’s van. They struck the side of the vehicle instead of hitting the tires or the windows. As tough and skilled as Dave pretended to be in front of his friends, he was nothing but a firing range hero who was now firing blindly at his targets.
Dave saw himself as some sort of hero, standing on top of the White House and waving the American Flag. He didn’t realize that he was the type of man who gave honest, courageous patriots—who were legally fighting for truth, justice, and the American way—a bad name. The real patriots were fighting their battles in the halls of Congress, in State Capitol buildings, inside court rooms, through prayer and faith, which were their true weapons. Dave was only a loud-mouth loser who thrived on violence and chaos, while disguising himself as an American patriot.
“Oh, yeah, let’s get it on!”
The eight bullets Dave fired at Mandy’s van tore through the top and traveled over Mandy and Alvin’s head. Mandy let out a scream, which reached into Jessica’s lost mind. As if in a hypnotic state, Jessica turned her head and saw her sister fearfully trying to dig down into her wheel chair. Alvin threw his arms over her sister to shield the woman. Jessica released a deep, agonizing cry filled with the worst misery Jacob had ever heard in his life.
“No!” Jessica cried. She exploded to her feet. To Jacob’s horror, she ran toward the work truck like a woman who had no fear of dying.
“Jessica!” Jacob yelled, and began firing at the work truck in order to hold Dave down. “Jessica, get back here!”
Jessica didn’t hear Jacob. Instead, all her tear-filled eyes saw was a casket being lowered into a deep, dark hole. Inside the casket was the body of Jack Mayes, the man who had been cruelly ripped away from her loving arms.
“No!” Jessica cried again, as her trembling hands raised Alvin’s gun into the air and began blindly firing off an entire clip at the work truck.
Dave saw Jessica charging at him, so he rotated to the front of the work truck and popped his body up. He was expecting to take down an easy target since the bullets being fired by Jacob tore into the back of the truck. It would have been wise for Dave to have stayed down. As soon as he popped his head up over the hood of the work truck, one of the bullets Jessica was firing struck the man square in the forehead. Jacob saw Dave’s head nearly leave his shoulders, as the bullet ended his life.
“Not good,” he whispered, leaving his secure position to run to Jessica. She was now standing still at the hood of the work truck. Her trembling hands were still holding Alvin’s gun. Her right index finger was still pulling the trigger over and over. Jacob approached Jessica on stealthy legs, grabbed the woman’s shoulder and dragged her back to the van.
As Jacob yanked open the back doors of the van, Jessica yanked free of his arms and spun around.
“I’m alright,” she yelled at the man. “I...my husband...didn’t deserve to die...he was murdered...I...” As tears fell from her eyes, Jessica stared furiously into Jacob’s eyes. “My husband...”
“I know,” Jacob nodded his head, took Alvin’s gun from Jessica’s trembling hands, and ordered her into the van. “Alvin, get Mandy in!”
Alvin grabbed the handles of Mandy’s wheelchair, ran her to the back of the van, and got to work. First, he hoisted Mandy into the van and then threw her wheelchair in.
“Man, this is serious business,” he told Jacob, slamming the back doors shut.
Jacob glanced across the street toward the truck stop. Countless truckers of all ages were standing out in the snow, aiming their cell phones in his direction. Surely the entire scene had been taped. Surely Jessica had been caught gunning down a man.
“Alvin, there’s no way I can handle this,” he confessed in a deeply troubled voice. “My face, your face, we’re about to be splattered all over the news. If anyone ever finds out I’m the President’s son, it’s all over, man.”
Alvin reached out and grabbed Jacob’s shoulder. “Let’s just get out of here and worry about the end of the world later,” he demanded, shoving Jacob toward the driver side door. Then he ran around to the passenger door and piled into the van. “Let’s get moving!”
Jacob got the van roaring and peeled out of the parking lot, leaving an unconscious cop and a dead man behind. Roger Alden was going to have a field day, and there was nothing he could do about it. Why? Because some stupid trucker who had watched too many war movies as a kid—some stupid trucker stuck in some childish arrested development state—had decided to play hero. And because of that, because of one man’s foolish actions, the face of Jacob Green was about to join the face of Jessica Mayes all over the news. Jacob Green was about to become the most wanted man alive. The president’s son was about to become a star.
Chapter 4
Intense
Roger Alden could have danced all over his office. As horrible as social media was at times, capturing police violence and other prescribed criminal actions ordered and manufactured by the CIA, there were times when the social media experiment turned out to be gold. Every social media site was on fire with a video showing Jessica Mayes, the woman Roger had turned into America’s number one villain, murdering an innocent American who had desperately tried to rescue a fallen cop; or so the story had been penned.
Now, Roger thought in a greedy, hungry voice, Edwin Green would have no choice but to stand before the American people and declare the woman an ‘Enemy of the People’.
“Wendy Cratterson may have betrayed me, but her actions have created a gold mine for me. And speaking of Wendy,” Roger stopped grinning, as a frown formed on his face. He reached out and struck a black phone sitting on his desk.
“Yes, Mr. Alden?” a lovely female’s voice spoke.
Roger narrowed his eyes, studied the black phone, and began thinking about Wendy Cratterson. The phone slowly changed into the woman’s devious face, showing sharp features consumed with cruelty.
“Get Tim in my office.”
“Yes, Mr. Alden.”
Roger continued to stare at the phone, as his mind began to review the security tape that had been delivered to his office earlier in the morning. The security footage showed a daring man stealing Wendy Cratterson away. The man, Roger saw, was none other than Lionel Brown.
Lionel Brown was bad news. Very bad news.
“Wendy isn’t as stupid as I thought,” Roger hissed under his breath. “But I’ll get her...somehow.”
A few minutes later, Tim Beltmore knocked on Roger’s office door. Roger ordered him in.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Alden?” Tim asked, as he carefully entered the office of a spitting cobra.
“Where are we concerning Wendy Cratterson?” Roger demanded.
“Noel is in Chattanooga interviewing hospital staff members and—”
“Yes, I’m aware of Noel’s assignment,” Roger snapped. Tim flinched, cautiously eased himself into a brown chair in front of Roger’s desk. When Roger Alden was sitting, that meant everyone sat down. “Where is Wendy Cratterson?”
“We’re not certain, Mr. Alden,” Tim answered in a direct voice that Roger would appreciate. “The Chattanooga Airport’s flight control center was hacked. All data on incoming and outgoing flights for the last seven days were erased. We have our team trying to recover the data, but it doesn’t seem like—”
“Yes, yes, no green light,” Roger snapped again, appreciating Tim’s direct approach. “We know that Lionel Brown took Wendy.”
“Yes,” Tim confirmed, studying Roger’s angry face. The man always appeared angry and full of rage, even when his Queen had the King in ch
eckmate. “Mr. Alden, Wendy is a R.O.G.U.E agent now. It’s not likely we’re going to locate her, not when she is under Lionel Brown’s care,” Tim pointed out, and then waited for Roger to explode.
Roger glared at Tim with dangerous eyes. He knew Wendy Cratterson was now an invisible gust of wind but needed to know where his team stood on the matter. If Tim believed that there was the slightest chance of locating Wendy, then he would give the man a green light to pursue his ambition. But now that Tim was openly stating that locating Wendy Cratterson was a lost cause, he decided to put her on the back burner, and focus his attention back on Jessica Mayes.
“Very well, Tim,” he said with a heavy sigh, pretending to be disappointed. “I will accept your report and the fact that we must focus all of our resources directly on the mission at hand.”
Tim nodded his head, as relief touched his chest. “There have been ninety-eight million shares on the video, Mr. Alden. Every social media outlet is on fire and steadily growing hotter. Even the Amish must be aware of Jessica Mayes by now.” Tim slowly placed his hands together. “Our National media outlets are continually showing the video. Foreign media outlets are now rotating the video through their news, as well; mostly France, England, Germany and Australia. Mexico and Canada are our biggest fans at the moment.”
“Very good.”
Tim nodded his head. “Jessica Mayes is now the most wanted woman on the planet, Sir.”
“Very good,” Roger told Tim, fighting back a happy grin. “And the U.N. Security Council?”
“An Emergency meeting has been scheduled to take place tomorrow morning,” Tim explained, and gave Roger the time. “Russia is expected to veto any resolutions that will be pushed, as expected. But with the U.N. Security Council emergency meeting, the global media is certainly going to erupt. As it stands right now, the Global media is already performing with excellence on our behalf.”
“Excellent,” Roger complimented Tim, and then grew silent as a voice in the back of his mind struggled to return his focus back to Wendy Cratterson. Wendy Cratterson was now a lethal threat, but at the moment, there was nothing Roger could do to eliminate the woman. Lionel Brown, at the orders of the ‘R.I.’, had stolen Wendy away, killing a CIA Agent, who had been sent to kill the woman, in the process.
“Edwin Green?”
“The video that American eyes are being allowed to see shows Jessica Mayes murdering an innocent man, Sir. Edwin Green will have no other choice but to declare the woman an enemy. Both sides of the aisle are demanding he make this proclamation within the next hour.”
Roger was aware of every word Tim was speaking, but he needed to test the man. Roger always tested Tim, to ensure the man was on the same side of the tracks as he was.
“And the stranger?”
Tim hesitated. “Sir, we have run the man’s face through every facial recognition data base we have. Nothing,” he explained in a troubled voice. “We located Alvin Monroe and Mandy Andrews, but the stranger remains a stranger.”
“Which means the man is working for the enemy,” Roger pointed out, without losing his temper. “Which means the enemy is aware. That means Edwin Green isn’t going down without a fight.”
Tim kept his hands clasped together. “Sir, we must proceed with extreme caution. While we are pushing Edwin Green to mark Jessica Mayes with a red beam, we are also giving him room to declare martial law. If Edwin Green declares martial law, the ‘Green Markers’ in the military will take full control over the ‘Red Markers’ we have in place.” Tim paused, studying Roger’s intent face, and proceeded with extreme caution. “The media is brainwashing the public into thinking Edwin Green is supporting Jessica Mayes—”
“Yet, there are small pockets of civilian resistance that will defend Edwin Green, along with large pockets of military resistance. Yes, Tim, I’m fully aware of the opposition. This is why we must get to Jessica Mayes and force her to turn over the virus Jack Mayes created, along with the stolen files on Edwin Green. We must cripple our enemy and then strike.” Roger lifted his right hand and rubbed his chin. “We must push the public to the absolute edge right now, Tim, before the fuss burns out. It is vital we alter the mindset of the public and urge them into a position of operation.” Roger continued to rub his chin. “When we finally grab Jessica Mayes, I want to make the public erupt and begin rioting in every major city across the country. I want Edwin Green to declare Martial Law. This will take the spotlight off of Jessica Mayes while we extract our weapons from her.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Continue with constant media coverage,” Roger ordered. “I want the video constantly played on the news for the next forty-eight hours. It should only be interrupted by our paid actors, who will continue to brainwash the public. I want the actors to intensify their attacks on Edwin Green. We must control the public, Tim, to kill our targets when the time arrives.” Roger stopped rubbing his chin. “Manipulation and control. Propaganda and lies. Those are the ways to control the public.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Roger leaned forward and placed his hands together.
“Tim,” he continued, narrowing his vicious eyes, so he looked like a poisonous snake in his gray suit, “we are finally in a position to dominate the world, politically and militarily. All we need is the virus Jack Mayes created, even if we don’t retrieve the stolen files on Edwin Green. We have Jessica Mayes to do our dirty work and be our fall guy. What it all boils down to is finding that woman and getting that virus.”
“The airports—”
“Yes, I know there is no way—short of swimming into the ocean or walking into Canada or Mexico on foot—that Jessica Mayes can escape. But the man we saw in the video... Jessica Mayes is receiving help. We must intensify our efforts.” Roger grew silent for a minute. “I want constant attacks on all enemy satellites and communication devices, and I mean constant. The safe house in Wyoming should also be under constant watch.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Roger glared at Tim. “I want a constant watch on the dummy safe house, as well. We can’t allow the enemy to know we’re aware of the real safe house.”
“Yes, Sir,” Tim repeated.
“I want agents watching Air Force One, the White House, the Pentagon, the Capitol Building… anywhere Jessica Mayes may be hiding,” Roger demanded. “Edwin Green may try to hide Jessica Mayes right under our noses.”
“I have considered that, Sir. I have agents at each location.”
Roger nodded his head. Tim wasn’t stupid. As a matter of fact, Tim was nearly as smart as he was, which made the man very dangerous.
“Good.” Roger reached into the pocket of his gray suit and pulled out his silver cigarette case, as he asked, “State levels?”
“Roadblocks are being set up in every state, Sir,” Tim explained. “Most of the roadblocks are already in place. National roadblocks are also being established. Travel is at a crawl on every main interstate and highway. Traffic is being forced to pull off the exits and pollute the cities and towns, causing heavy congestion in those locations.”
“We must frustrate the public, Tim,” Roger explained. “We must make the public demand that Edwin Green return their pathetic lives back to normal.” Roger picked up a silver cigarette lighter off his desk. “It is amazing, Tim, that something so simple as being allowed to commute back and forth can change a person into a monster. We live in a land where over three million people from different backgrounds, races, and so on are trying to co-exist. The roads, the businesses, the grocery stores… we control the people, Tim, while allowing them to fight. It’s perfect.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“We will continue to frustrate the public while using the media to brainwash them, to push them into an operational position. In the meantime, I want you to activate our sleeper cells. I want minor rioting, and I do mean minor, Tim, to begin in Atlanta, Chicago, Los Angeles, Denver…”
Tim waited, as Roger named off every major city
in America. Roger had an irritating habit of naming off every city inside his deadly mind, instead of creating a generalized order. Tim would never admit this, of course. Doing so would mean certain death.
“Minor rioting, Tim. Small pockets, nothing more. Only enough to bring media attention and exhaust the police, while putting the taste of absolute, final resistance into the minds of our younger generation.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Roger took a draw off his cigarette. “We need the younger generation, Tim. We must manipulate them into being operational puppets. So far, our plan is working. We are indoctrinating the younger generation into accepting full resistance. All of the false flags we have carried out while brainwashing the public school systems and colleges are working. School shootings have become our number one instrument of control.” Roger puffed on his cigarette again. “The younger generation is boiling over, Tim, and in the perfect position to act on our behalf.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Roger blew smoke out of his mouth. “Once those puppets outlive their usefulness, we will kill them—all of them,” he told Tim. “Slowly, of course, while we take absolute control. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Roger cautioned. “We have a long, hard road ahead of us and much work to accomplish. For now, let’s focus on our immediate task.”
“Yes, Sir.” Tim dared to stand up. “I’ll get to work, Sir.”
“Carefully,” he cautioned, looking up at Tim. “It is true that Wendy betrayed us. In return, her actions have created our...bonanza. We must proceed using extreme caution, and not forget that we have very dangerous and lethal enemies on the battlefield.” Roger smoked his cigarette as he spoke. “Edwin Green is a foolish man, Tim. The man is extremely clever, deadly clever.”
“Yes, Sir,” Tim nodded his head. “However, might I say, Sir, now that we have the Vice-President in our pocket, perhaps we—”
Green File Crime Thrillers Box Set Page 18
