Killer Curriculum
Page 20
The professor stood up and faced Agent Clarke and the younger agent. He placed his hand on the Bible that Clarke was holding in his open palm and began reciting words to the agents.
Smugly satisfied, the senior agent dug his hand into the duffle bag and produced an FBI badge and a gun. As Max and Ski watched in disbelief, he handed them to Professor… now Agent Booker.
Epilogue
Later that night, the private county airport was murky and damp. A slight sprinkle had been falling for the past few hours. No one was soaked, but the mist made everything feel damp and uncomfortable. With dawn still hours away, it made the whole scene feel somber.
A group of people stood near the tarmac where a small private jet was being fed in the dim lights. Men in overalls were moving gear from a luggage cart into the cargo hold of the airplane.
“I appreciate you loaning me one of your best people, Captain.” Booker was saying to Harrison. The captain, Booker, Sarah, Max, and Ski were all standing in a tight circle, huddled from the wind and rain. “I’ll try to return her as soon as possible.”
Sarah was holding a bag in one hand and a pump-action shotgun in the other, rainwater gleaming off her leather jacket in the runway lights.
“Hey, when the FBI asks a favor, who am I to refuse?” Captain Harrison replied coolly. “Plus, I’m sure I can make do with Detective Salazar for a while, God help us.” He reached out and shook Sarah’s hand. “Good luck, Detective.”
“Thank you, Captain. I’m sure we’ll be back soon. Don’t give my job away. I just started,” Sarah said with a grin. Then she turned to Booker. “I’ll be on the plane.” Throwing the bag over one shoulder, she sauntered away.
“Hey, take Max with you.” Agent Booker added. “He’ll need to settle himself in.”
Max, hearing his name, slung the messenger bag that contained his laptop over his head and shoulder, then picked up a suitcase. “Make sure you get the rest of my stuff from the dorm.” He instructed the old man standing next to him.
“I got it, Maxie. Quit worrying. I’ll stop by tomorrow and clean out the room. I’m sure the school will understand. You’re a big shot FBI guy now,” Ski said proudly.
“Information Analyst,” Max corrected. “And it’s probationary. I’m just the closest computer nerd they could find on short notice.” He nodded his appreciation to Ski and then shook the old man’s hand.
“You take care of yourself kid.”
Max jogged a bit to catch up to Sarah, who was already up the small set of stairs into the plane.
Ski turned to his professor. “You take care of yourself too.” He said earnestly. He had come to not only respect the teacher, but care for him a great deal the last couple of years. His face seemed less like a student and more like that of a concerned parent.
“We’ll all be fine, Ben,” Booker reassured. “Clarke has a BOLO out on Becky across the United States. Any activity on her passport or credit cards will pop up on the Bureau’s radar and they will forward it to Max.” He paused. “We’ll get her. You just take care of our girl.”
“I got a few guys to help with that,” Ski informed him. “Some old buddies of mine. Kara will be safe and sound.” He shook the teacher’s hand. “Happy hunting, August.”
Booker nodded and gave Captain Harrison a two-fingered salute as he headed toward the plane, his cane making the familiar clicking sound on the asphalt. They watched him as he ascended the stairs and the hatch closed. The airplane began taxiing away.
Captain Harrison looked at the grave expression on Benjamin Tronski’s haggard face. “Don’t worry. They’ll track her down,” he tried reassuring the older man.
Ski just kept watching the departing aircraft. As it ascended into the dark sky, he responded to the police captain. “That’s not what worries me.”
He tugged the wool cap down over the tops of his ears. “One time a while back I asked Booker if he missed his old life. You know what he said?”
“I can’t imagine,” Harrison replied.
“He recited a quote from General MacArthur. ‘The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.’ I think for a little while, here in Berksville, August Booker found some peace.”
He put his pipe in the corner of his mouth. “When this is resolved, I pray he finds it again.”
Acknowledgments
There are some stories that become a part of your soul and won’t allow you to be content until they have been shared with others. This story was one of those. I would be remiss if I did not thank the people in my life that taught, supported, and inspired me.
First, I better begin with my wife, Megan. Not only because she has helped motivate and inspire my writing process, but she has loved me so powerfully in the only way she knows how, unconditionally.
To my mother, Dawn, who saw in me more than a scared little boy and projected that so strongly I believed it myself. I would never have strived, attained, or accomplished anything without her love and belief.
To my father, Steve, where I learned the importance of hard work, leadership, and how many beers it takes to do electrical work.
The author Clara Ortega once said, “To the outside world we grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other’s hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time." I agree. My brothers William and Kevin have always fit the bill. They have been my friends, accomplices, alibis, and co-conspirators. They are my strength.
Robert and Shirley, my grandparents who have showered me with support, advice, and love. They have always been a blessing I don’t deserve.
I doubt highly I would ever have begun storytelling if I had not met a kindred soul in my youth. Shaun Bryant was not only my best friend through my teenage years but also a gifted artist who could not only create worlds from his imagination, but had the exceptional talent of being able to see into my imagination as well. I’m glad the world gets to see his work every day.
I need to thank my publisher 50/50 Press, which encompasses not only the company, but the amazing group of authors that are part of it. I would be hard pressed to find such a talented and creative group of storytellers anywhere on the planet.
To list everyone who has impacted and shaped my life, I could easily pen another novel. If I have failed to acknowledge anyone, please know it was simply from lack of space, and not lack of gratitude. And hey, I always need people to thank at the end of the sequel!
About the Author
Douglas Alexander is the author of Killer Curriculum, the first book in an exciting new mystery series that hearkens back to the golden age of detective fiction.
After graduating from the State University of New York at Plattsburgh, Douglas became a leader in corporate education and training.
He lives in New York’s Capital District with his beautiful, loving wife. A love of great stories also led him to teach literature and writing at the college, high school, and middle school levels.
Visit him online at https://www.douglasalexanderbooks.com/
Or www.5050press.com
And follow him on Instagram @author_doug_alexander
If you enjoyed this book, please take the time to write a review!