by Thomas Scott
“Mr. Lipkins? Are you okay? You look a little pale all of a sudden. Maybe you should sit down.”
Lipkins looked at Sandy and shook the feelings away. “I’m fine.” But he went on to correct his own statement without realizing it. “I’m tired is what I am.” He pointed to the side of his head. “Up here I think I’m still young, that my whole life is still ahead of me, like the road is wide open. But it’s not. I’m old and I’m tired. Farming will do that to a man…make you feel young and old at the same time. When I was younger, after a hard day’s work, I used to think of it as a blessing. Now it’s a curse, or more like a cruel joke where you end up as your own punch line. Sometimes I wonder if I’m a fool. Other times I’m certain of it.” Then as if he’d not spoken his thoughts aloud he said, “Here, let me grab you a pen.”
He got Sandy started on the forms. They sat quietly for a few minutes as she fixed her signature to the paperwork. The battle that raged inside his own mind was so violent he couldn’t contain it any longer. Now or never, he thought. “Say, how about I take your boy for a ride on a tractor or something? Think that’d be okay?”
She’d barely started on the forms when Lipkins asked about taking Jonas outside. She didn’t want to offend him, but she wasn’t about to let Jonas roam around the countryside with someone she’d only met a few minutes ago. When Sandy looked up to answer she noticed that Lipkins wasn’t looking at her. He was looking through a doorway that led to the back of the building. She turned her head and looked in that direction. The hall lights were off and she couldn’t see more than two or three feet past the door frame. Or could she? She thought she sensed some movement. Was there someone else at the back of the building, standing in the shadows? When Lipkins turned back and looked at her, Sandy knew something wasn’t quite right, though if pressed, she would have had a hard time defining what it was she felt in the moment. They were safe here, weren’t they? They were members of the Co-op.
Then Lipkins did something that surprised her. He reached across the table and grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close, a few of the forms scattering to the floor. “Take your boy and get out of here. You’re in danger. Do you hear me? You’ve got to go right now. There’s someone here who means to do you harm. I’m afraid I can’t stop him.” He released her wrist and when the door at the back of the building slammed shut they both turned and looked that way.
Jonas said, “Mommy?”
Sandy stood so fast she sent her chair sliding across the tiled floor. Jonas grabbed her hand and they hustled out the door. Cal Lipkins, the farmer, ran with them.
40
When Virgil and Thorpe pulled up to the hangar they saw Cool and Mok standing next to the state’s helicopter. Virgil saw that Mok had six men with him. Too many people, he thought.
Cool said as much as soon as they were out of the truck. “I can take six people, Jonesy, that’s it. There are only seven seats in this thing and one of them has to be mine. I’ll let you guys figure out who stays and who goes.” He gave Mok a sideways look and went about his preflight activities.
Virgil looked at Mok and raised his eyebrows at him. “You’re not pissing off the pilot are you? That’s a little like arguing with your brain surgeon right before they put you under. This is Agent Thorpe with DHS, by the way. Agent Thorpe…Jon Mok, SWAT commander.”
Mok nodded to Thorpe. “I guess that gets us clearance to operate outside the state…in theory anyway. What are we up against here, Jonesy?”
“On one hand it’s not as bad as I thought. On the other, it’s much worse.”
“Which hand do I have?” Mok asked.
“The not so bad one. You’ll be going up against three men somewhere between Louisville and West Lafayette. Our best guess is the Jeffersonville rail yard. So it could be a pretty short ride.”
Mok didn’t like it. “One of the things that makes us successful is an overwhelming show of force. We’ll use ten guys to make an entry where we know they’ve only got two people. If I can only take three of my guys with me, that’s four against three. Not very good odds.”
“You’ll have Agent Thorpe with you as well.”
Mok looked at Thorpe. “Any tactical training?”
“I did two years in Bogotá with the Company.”
Mok canted his head. “CIA, huh? I guess I can see that. You’ve sort of got the Company look. Let me ask you this: Were you slinking around La Candelaria in the cafes, or out in the jungle?”
“In the jungle.” He said it so calm and matter of fact that Mok believed him. So did Virgil. “I can handle myself.”
Mok called three of his men over and told them they could stand down and take off. “Jackson, give Agent Thorpe your vest.”
The cop named Jackson slipped out of his tactical vest and handed it to Thorpe. Five minutes later they were airborne, headed to the Louisville airport. Virgil briefed them in the air.
Lipkins scooped up Jonas…took him right out of Sandy’s grasp as they were running to her car. “What are you doing?” she shouted at him.
“Helping you. He’s slowing us down. C’mon, get in your car and get it started.” Sandy ran around to her side of the car while Lipkins, holding Jonas like a football, ran to the passenger side and got the back door open. Jonas was crying.
“It’s okay, big guy,” Lipkins said. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be all right. You’re a big guy, remember? C’mon, in you go.”
Jonas crawled away from Lipkins and climbed in his car seat. Lipkins hadn’t seen a car seat in years and didn’t know how to operate the complex buckling mechanism.
“Never mind that,” Sandy said. “I’ll get it when we get out of here.” Lipkins slammed the door.
“Go, go, go.” He waved her away. Sandy buzzed the window down on the passenger side. “What about you?” That simple act of Sandy doing what she did best by showing concern for others cost them all. A look of horror fell across her face and Cal Lipkins never got the chance to answer. He spun around in time to see the giant box truck coming at him full bore. Sandy tried to get the car in gear to get out of the way but it was much too late for any type of evasive maneuver. The truck hit the car square in the side, pinning Lipkins between the two vehicles, killing him instantly. The force of the collision flipped the car completely over and spun it around. It landed back on all four tires facing the opposite direction. It had been one short and violent ride.
Lipkins body had been crushed to a bloody pulp and lie under the truck. Radiator fluid poured out of the engine compartment and covered his body. Neither Sandy nor Jonas had been buckled in. The impact had tossed them around the inside of the car like ball bearings inside a blender.
Ralph Wheeler climbed out of the truck and walked over to the car. He pried open the back door and pulled Jonas out and tossed him on the ground like a rag doll.
Then he went for Sandy.
41
The state helicopter was a Bell 407GXP. It had a top speed of one hundred sixty-one miles per hour. Cool had them in Louisville in less than forty-five minutes. The DHS agents, Franklin, and his partner, Greg Parr were waiting with a handcuffed Rick Said when they landed. Said, who was seated in the back of the DHS vehicle tried to get Virgil’s attention. Virgil saw him and ignored him.
He introduced himself and Mok to the two agents. Then he looked at Franklin. “I never did get your first name.”
“Yeah you did,” Parr said.
Virgil looked at Franklin and reddened a bit. “Jeez, I’m sorry. That’s a little embarrassing. I’ve been referring to you as Agent Franklin.”
“That’s his name,” Parr said.
Virgil thought Parr seemed to be enjoying himself. Then he put it together. “So…you’re Franklin Franklin?”
“My parents thought it was hilarious.”
Virgil opened his mouth to respond then closed it. He looked around. “Is there someplace we can set up for a full brief? We’re a little tight on time.”
“We’re already
set up in the hangar,” Franklin said. “This way.”
They left Said in the car.
When he saw the men walk away he let his head rest against the car window.
Franklin and Parr were good, Virgil thought. In movies, television, and crime novels, officers of the federal government were often portrayed as either bumbling bureaucratic idiots who couldn’t catch a criminal if they woke up and found themselves shackled to one, or non-cooperative, aristocratic self-absorbed narcissists who placed personal appearance and career advancement above criminal apprehension.
Franklin and Parr weren’t like that. They struck Virgil as good cops who were well prepared. A table had been set up with folding chairs. There was a white board on an easel, a map of Indiana’s rail line taped to one side. The bottom of the map contained a view of the greater metropolitan Louisville area on the other side of the river.
“We’ve got the train stopped here,” Parr said. “About three miles short of the line that runs by Radiology. We’ve briefed the railroad company, and they’ve informed the engineer what to expect. There’s no good place to land but the line of sight overhead is clear.” He turned and looked at Virgil. “I take it your men are briefed on their responsibilities?”
“They are,” Virgil said. “They’re going to capture Reif and his men if and when they make a move on the train. We fully expect it to be at the Jeffersonville rail yard. I’ll be in the chopper providing air support and communications to Mok and his men.” Virgil looked at Mok, who simply nodded.
“This is mostly your show,” Parr said. “Radiology is back up and running. The whole thing was written off as a false alarm. With all the commotion we’re certain Said was extracted without anyone noticing. But I’m advising you to get your team out to that train so they can get on board. Sooner the better. We don’t want any delays. ” He looked at Cool. “Is any of that going to be a problem for you?”
“Just another day,” Cool said. “They’ll be able to step off the skid and on top of any car they choose. Take me four minutes to get them on site, thirty seconds to let them out, and another four to get back here.”
Virgil looked at Thorpe, Mok, and his men. “Go. Cool, see you in ten minutes.”
They turned and left. When Cool walked past Virgil he said, “That’d be eight-and-a-half minutes, Einstein. You can set your watch to it, guaranteed.”
Cool got the chopper fired up and after a few seconds it lifted off, spun ninety degrees to the left and flew out of sight. Virgil checked the time.
They watched the helicopter until it was out of sight on the other side of the hangar. Franklin made a clicking noise with his tongue and cheek after the heavy beat of the rotor blades had dissipated. “He’s sort of a cool motherfucker, isn’t he?”
“I’ll tell you a story sometime,” Virgil said. “You don’t know the half of it.” Then his own statement reminded him that his father had used the very same words when they’d spoken about Murton.
As Virgil stood in the hangar he was less than fives miles away from where Murton had been and never knew it, the distance between them growing further and further with each passing minute. He took out his phone and tried to call Sandy again. Still no answer. He’d already left her a message, so he simply ended the call. His phone buzzed at him before he got it back in his pocket. Becky.
“Hey Becks. I’m in a briefing with the DHS guys. Things are ramping up. Can I get back with you?”
Becky didn’t beat around the bush. “No. You’re going to want to hear this. I’ve got access to the thumb drive.”
When Sandy finally came around, she felt as though someone had taken a club to almost every inch of her body. She couldn’t move her arms or legs and momentarily panicked. What had happened? Then it came flooding back. The bizarre statements from Cal Lipkins. His frantic effort to get them out of the Co-op…the truck smashing into her car and sending them rolling across the parking lot…Lipkins body being crushed between the two vehicles. Then she remembered Jonas. That panicked her more, but in a different way.
When she opened her eyes she discovered she was in some sort of container. The container had an opaque roof made out of thick plastic. The roof let in enough light for her to see. The walls of the container were sided with pieces of plywood that were smooth to the touch. There was a roll-up door at the rear. The inside handle had been removed. Her hands were bound behind her back. Not cuffs, she thought. Duct tape. She could feel the thick adhesive against her skin as she tried to pry her wrists apart. She called out quietly to Jonas as she tried to free her hands. He was nowhere in sight. Each time she called his name she said it a little louder. Eventually she began screaming his name.
Jonas never answered. He wasn’t there.
Then she smelled the nitrogen and the diesel fuel. She saw the marking on the crates that indicated they contained radioactive material. Suddenly she was glad Jonas wasn’t there. She knew she was sitting on a dirty bomb. A big one.
Virgil took a few steps away from the table inside the hangar and turned his back to the federal agents. When he spoke he kept his voice low. “I’m with two DHS agents. Is this something we want them to hear?”
“Based on what I’ve seen so far, I’d say no.”
“Okay, hold on a second.” He put the phone to his chest and said, “Hey guys, I’ve got a personal situation here. Why don’t we wait for Cool to get back before we get any deeper into this.”
Franklin and Parr looked at each other and shrugged. “Like I said, it’s your show,” Parr said.
“Thanks, I’ll be right with you.” He stepped outside the hangar and out of earshot of the agents. To Becky: “Tell me.”
“I hate to admit it, but you were right.”
“About what?”
“It’s mostly Word files and spreadsheets.”
“What have you found?”
“I went through the table of contents before I called. There’s stuff on here I probably shouldn’t be looking at. I don’t know what most of it even means.”
Virgil was standing within sight of the vehicle where Said was locked up in the back seat. When he looked at him, Said banged his forehead against the side window then opened his eyes wide. He jerked his head in a manner that indicated he wanted to say something. Virgil turned away from the car. Didn’t need the distraction.
“Oh boy,” Becky said.
“What?”
“Just a minute.”
“Becky…”
“I’m pulling something up right now. Just hang on a second.”
Virgil scratched the back of his head and looked down at the ground. He was about to risk Becky’s wrath and prompt her again when she came back on the line.
“There’s a file in here…it’s a spreadsheet actually. Practically every county in the state is listed.”
“I’m not surprised,” Virgil said. “According to Nicole Pope the drive was background on Pearson’s political maneuverings.”
“It might be a little more complex than that. I’m looking at the one for Shelby County right now. Guess whose name is mentioned more than anyone else’s?”
“Who?”
“Cal Lipkins.”
“What?”
“It looks like Pearson was positioning himself to be a part of the fracking operation in Shelby County.”
“That’s not possible,” Virgil said. “Pearson was already dead when the fracking deal was brought to the Co-op members.”
“That’s what we were told, anyway.”
“You’re saying Lipkins had been working this deal with Pearson before he died?”
“It sure looks that way. There are copies of emails, meeting notes, the works. There’s about a billion links in here that lead all over the place. I’m going to have to study it some more, but…oh no.”
“What?”
“Jonesy…they knew about Jonas.
“What?”
“Hold on.”
Virgil heard a series of frantic clicks as Becky worked th
e information. When she came back on the line the words came so fast Virgil could hardly keep up with her.
“There’s a whole section in here that talks about how Ed Donatti wasn’t Jonas’s biological father…that Pam had an affair…that Decker was the real father. There’s a grid or flow chart or whatever you call it. It’s all mapped out, Jonesy. They were planning Ed’s assassination. They’d had it planned for years.”
Virgil sat down on the tarmac and brought his knees up, his chest pressed against his thighs. His mind was racing. Becky was still speaking but he couldn’t hear what she was saying, the blood pounding through his head so hard and fast he could hear his own heartbeat.
Then it hit him. He knew what was bothering him about the last conversation he’d had with Cal Lipkins. He’d told Virgil to bring Sandy and Jonas to the Co-op. He hadn’t said bring your wife and son, he’d said bring Sandy and Jonas. He’d called them by name. “Becky, keep going through everything. Stay by the phone. I’ve got to go.”
“Jonesy wait. There’s one more thing.”
Virgil heard the beat of rotor blades as Cool made his approach back to the airport. “Make it quick, Becks.”
“Sheridan was built and run by Pri-Max…Pate’s company. That place is infested with people who have probably known from the start that Murton wasn’t who he said he was. This one is getting away from us, Jonesy. I’m starting to get really scared.”
So am I, he thought. He hung up on Becky and tried to call Sandy again. Still no answer. Cool was bringing the chopper in over the hanger and the noise was deafening. He ran back to the hangar to get away from the noise and dialed Huma at the house. He covered his other ear with his free hand. When Huma answered, he could barely hear her.
