by Sam Powers
“You were just doing your job.”
He nodded. “Sure. But you were going above and beyond that, Alex. A lot of people… they probably won’t remember the byline tomorrow. But they’ll remember the story, even if they don’t know you helped save a lot of lives.”
She blushed, embarrassed. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to that.”
“Say you’ll be back at work next week. We need you.”
She smiled. “I’ll be back at work next week.”
“Well good,” he said, rising. “But if I were you I’d cool it on hanging out with spies for a while.”
She thought about Joe, about how he’d told her just a night earlier how much he wanted to get home. “I don’t think that will be a problem,” she said. “I think, for now, everything is good.”
Carolyn sat at the kitchen island and sipped on her coffee. Ellen McLean had visited earlier in the evening, driving back home after a get-together that had been nothing short of miserable. They’d told her that her husband had been duped, tricked into serving what he thought was a government paymaster. But it didn’t matter; he’d admitted he knew it was wrong anyway, technically unsanctioned, that he’d done it to avenge his sister.
And so he was still going to jail. The only question was for how long.
It was just after ten; the kids had just gone to bed, and she waited for the phone to ring. Despite everything that had gone down in the few prior days, she still hadn’t heard from Joe. He had to be hurting, tired, not just from what she’d gathered from the news reports, but for what had happened to his best friend. How would he deal with it? And did it mean more time away from them, away from his family, more of his fear that he might expose them to his other life?
The front door lock turned. It opened slowly, a figure stepping into the house quietly, trying not to wake anyone.
“Joe?” she said.
He stepped out of the hallway and into the living room, a suitcase in one hand, a gym bag in the other. He looked tired, thinner. Older.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi back,” she said. She went to him, put her arms around his neck and he leaned in, kissing his wife gently on the lips.
“I missed you,” he said. “I missed you and the kids so much…”
“I know,” she said. Before the assignment had begun, six months earlier, they’d been fighting, stressed, frustrated and tired of one another. Now, in the dark and quiet of the evening, they stared into each other’s eyes and forgot all about that. They remembered that they lived for each other, for their family.
Brennan smiled and kissed her again. It made it all worth it, he knew, to be with his family; to see those he loved, safe and sound.
THE END
THE GHOSTS OF MAO
A Joe Brennan Spy Thriller
By Sam Powers
Amazon Kindle Edition
This edition uses U.S spellings of common words.
Copyright 2019 J.I. Loome. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Kindle Store and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
May 3, 1984
PLENTY, MONTANA
THE GIRL AND THE BOY HELD HANDS and looked up at the stars in the clear night sky. It was rare for the sky to be so clear, the clouds hiding as if doing them a favor, gracing them with the sheen of a million twinkling dreams. Their hands felt warm together and they were both smiling, and happy, and content in the moment. At eleven years old, neither would want to call it love, not without making icky faces and sticking out their tongues, as if poisoned with double helpings of liver.
Neither had anyone else, not really. They had their parents, and their teachers, and their school leaders. But they only trusted one another.
‘You think there’s anyone out there?’ asked the girl. Her name was Amelia, but everyone called her Amy, and she hated both names completely. She like Mia, but it had never stuck, and the other girls at school had mocked her for trying to make it so.
‘I think there has to be,’ Chris said. He was shorter than Amy, by at least three inches. She’d already had a growth spurt, but both were still blissfully short of their teens, and had yet to start worrying about even the most mundane things. ‘I think it would be a damn arrogant thing, to say it was only us out here, floating around alone in the universe; that all of that is just a show.’
She drew her attention away from the stars for long enough to glance at him and smile. ‘That’s a nice way of looking at it.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re like that, seeing the good in things.’
He smiled but was embarrassed and didn’t know what to say back. So he blushed a little... then punched her in the upper arm with the side of his fist. ‘You’re stupid,’ he said.
She hit him back. ‘No, you are!’
He tried to grab her and put her in a headlock, but she snatched his hands into hers and they wrestled for a minute, before the girl forced him down onto his back and pinned him. ‘Give!’ she demanded.
‘No way!’
‘Give, or you get a wet willie!’
‘No!’
She put her knees over his upper arms so that he couldn’t move then used her free hand, wetting one finger in her mouth, then jabbing it into his ear. ‘Wet Willie!’ the girl yelled. ‘Wet...’
The siren sounded loud and clear, a blaring klaxon just audible from their position a half-mile from town, like an air raid warning. It only sounded once, but that was all that was required.
‘It’s time,’ she said, getting up, then offering him a hand to his feet. ‘We have to move! Quickly!’
They hurried down the moonlit hill, the grass brown and yellow, dried out by the summer heat. The school was only two minutes away, the town’s biggest building by some measure. It was bigger than six houses put together, Amy figured, and was home to a hundred students, so by most city standards it was tiny. But it had a gym with a stage, and it had four classrooms.
And, of course, there was the basement. The thought of it caught her, and she slowed down, fighting her own momentum from the hill until she was standing there with a dazed
look in her eyes. Chris saw it and called out. ‘Hey! Hey, Amy!’
She looked over at him, her distraction broken. ‘Sorry. I ... I was just thinking about how this... about the last time.’
He folded his arms self-protectively and looked away, intent on showing no weakness. ‘You have to be tough. You know that.’ He frowned, remembering a mantra. ‘We must be proud, of ourselves and our country. We must be strong, as strong as steel forged in fire. We must be clever, as guileful and contradictory as a trap baited with petals. We must be firm yet flexible, like a mighty river that cuts through barest rock.’
She looked past him at the school, the trepidation still there, the anxiety fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Then she looked at Chris again, so strong and so sure of himself. And then she felt an onrush of positivity, a peaceful ease settling in. Soon, the session would be over for another week, and another lesson would be learned, and they would both be closer to the next stage.
But first... first, there was the basement.
A few dozen yards from the building’s front doors, just down the main hallway, students were lined up from the top of the stairs to the bottom floor, waiting to enter the session room. Mr. Shou and Principal Anders looked on sternly.
‘Principal looks upset,’ Amy whispered to Chris. ‘Do you think the first three went poorly?’
‘It wouldn’t matter. They’re always serious.’ Then he noticed how worried she looked. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’
She didn’t wish to show weakness, even to Chris, and she hesitated. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
But he could tell she was bothered. ‘Let me guess: more nightmares?’
She nodded. ‘I think it’s the drug. It only happens after Session, like it’s trying to stick in my head or something, even when it’s supposed to be gone.’
‘They told us, remember? It builds up in your blood…’
He was trying to solve it for her. She hated that. He never just listened. As much as she liked him, he was still a boy, still always trying to take charge. ‘I know that. It’s just… look, just forget it, okay?’
She felt an elbow dig into her back, just below her last rib.
‘Surprise, surprise: Amelia’s scared!’
She turned and gave Donny a shove. He was a heavier boy, known for bullying his peers and delighting in tormenting them. He shoved her back and she bumped into Chris, who in turn bumped the child ahead. ‘Hey! Watch it!’ the kid admonished.
‘I’m not scared of you, Donny Taylor!’ she declared, her little fists balled up and ready. ‘You better quit it, or I’m telling Principal Anders!’
‘Shhh!’ Chris muttered. ‘Both of you better shut up or we’re all in trouble.’ He glanced at the principal and saw he wasn’t paying attention. ‘Next time we might not be so lucky.’
‘You’re scared!’ Donny whispered to her. ‘You’re chicken. I heard you asked to skip…’
‘Did not!’ Amy said. ‘That was Becky.’ Becky was her little sister, three years younger and wide-eyed, always clutching her teddy, Jack. They’d said she was too young to take part, but the principal and Mr. Shou had intervened personally. Becky had a big heart, they’d said, and needed special attention.
But she feared Session, that wasn’t in doubt. Amy realized she hadn’t seen her all afternoon. She frowned, trying to think what Becky had said to her that morning at the breakfast table, when she hadn’t really been listening. It wasn’t coming. She scanned the line behind them, looking for the girl. There were only twenty people waiting, to be split into the usual two groups of ten, then taken in one at a time. It would be nearly midnight by the time they finished.
She couldn’t see her. Amy pulled on Chris’ sleeve.
‘What?’
‘She’s not here. My sister… she’s not in line.’
He glanced up at the mesh-covered clock above the doors. ‘She has three minutes.’
They both knew the potential consequences of being late. The punishment would be harsh. Amy’s eyes widened as the realization set in that she might not make it. ‘We have to go look!’ she insisted. ‘Maybe she got distracted somehow…’
Donny snorted. ‘Huh. Maybe she’s just chicken like her big sister and her boyfriend.’
‘Uh… Amy?’
The voice came from near the back of the line. She leaned out to see who it was. Jimmy Palmer’s little head leaned out as well, further back. He was a small, timid boy, his black hair always a little mussed and the bags under his eyes deepening by the year. Jimmy seemed perpetually worried, as if he knew something about the future lost on the rest of them.
‘Shut up, Jiminy Cricket!’ Donny demanded. ‘Or I’ll beat your little ass again like last time.’
Jimmy quickly ducked back into the line. But a second later he popped his head out again and blurted, ‘I saw her about ten minutes ago by the old oak, along Second Street.’
That was a solid five minutes from the school. Amy looked up at the clock again.
Two minutes.
‘I have to go up and look,’ she said.
‘You’ll lose your place in line,’ Chris warned.
‘You’re not going to come?’ Her voice seemed almost desperate and Chris felt an unfamiliar wave of guilt wash over him.
He looked around quickly. The teachers weren’t paying attention. He knew his father would beat his ass if he found out he’d risked missing Session. He’d probably be okay about him losing his place in line, and he might even forgive him not taking advantage of the girl’s weakness. But risking lateness was unforgivable. His butt would be tanned black and blue. Chris couldn’t imagine how stricter parents -- like Amy’s or Donny’s -- might react.
‘I’m going,’ she said, pulling out of the line and striding up the stairs, to the gasps of her classmates.
‘Amy… wait!’ Chris said. He followed her, cursing losing his place for the first time since the sessions began, when they were in preschool.
They ran up the stone steps to the main level, both educators watching them, hands in pockets, seemingly non-plussed by the last-second decision. Chris made it to the front doors first and flung them open. The wind had picked up and was gusting, the sky darkening, leaves rustling in the trees along Main Street, torn free, cascading onto the pavement below.
There was no sign of her.
‘She’s never going to make it,’ Amy worried. ‘I should go look for her.’
‘She only has a minute-and-a-half,’ Chris warned. ‘That’s probably not long enough to…’
Before he could finish the sentence, Amy grabbed his bicep with both hands and leaned in. ‘Is that…? It’s her!’
A few blocks away, a tiny figure had just turned a corner onto Main. The little girl wore a red sweater and blue shorts. She had strawberry blonde hair in natural curls that fell just below her shoulders. She must have seen the time on the nearby church steeple, because she began to sprint for the school, the clock counting down silently.
‘Come on, Becky, run!’ Amy screamed. ‘They’re going to close the doors! Run! RUN, BECKY! RUN!’
The wind rose and gusted, dust and dirt blowing off the road. Leaves filled the air, blowing across the street. The girl was just a block away and had seen them, but she was tiny, with barely nine-year-old legs. She charged ahead with all her might, as haphazardly as any small child on the run, stumbling, almost losing her balance.
Behind them, Principal Anders leaned in and wrapped fingers around the door handle. ‘You both know the rules.’
Chris shot a glance at the clock, the second hand counting down. ‘Thirty seconds!’ he gasped.
‘FASTER, GO FASTER!’ Amy screamed, thunder rumbling through the clouds, the wind gusting, leaves swirling around the fluttering base of her sister’s dress. ‘FOR GOSH SAKES, RUN!’
The girl barreled ahead as fast as her tiny shoes could take her. She made it to the steps. She ran up one, then another… and then she tripped, her knees slamming into the
concrete. ‘Aahhh!’ she cried out, both hands cupping the skinned knee, her task momentarily forgotten. She rubbed at the wound gently, tentatively, as the seconds ticked down and the rain began to spatter the concrete.
‘No!’ Amy’s eyes widened. She checked the clock, the second hand approaching the hour. ‘No, Becky, get up!’ There was no time left to decide. Amy pushed past Chris and out the door. She bolted down four steps to the smaller girl, grabbed her by the collar and pulled her to her feet, stumbling and reluctant.
Principal Anders began to push the door shut.
‘No! No… please…’ Chris said, panicked, terrified at what would happen to them if they didn’t make it. ‘They have…’ He looked at the clock as it counted down the final few seconds. Four… three… two… one…’
The two girls burst through the door together and stumbled to the ground as the principal pushed it closed. ‘Barely, Miss Sawyer,’ he said, staring down his nose at Becky. ‘I do not need to remind you of what might happen if you missed Session. I think we all remember a certain young sinner named David Webber and what happened to him. Hmmm?’
Becky looked terrified. David Webber had disappeared months earlier and the school had made it known to parents that police suspected a sexual predator. They had been warned not to expect him to return alive. He’d been on his way to Session and late when he was taken.
‘She won’t make any trouble again sir, I promise!’ Amy declared, hauling her baby sister to her feet. ‘We’ll just get back in line now…’
The principal nodded. ‘The back of the line. And Christopher… you go last. You didn’t need to help them. They could’ve coped without you. It was a bad decision.’
Chris hung his head. ‘Yes, sir.’
It took three more hours before Amy’s turn came. She grasped her little sister’s hand and gave it an affirming shake. ‘Don’t worry Becky, it’ll be fine. It always is.’
The little girl pursed her lips, trying to be a big girl and not cry. She hated going through Session, even though she knew it would be good for them in the long run, just like her parents said. The wisdom of the Elders was unerring, a multi-generational pledge to follow the traditions of Plenty’s residents. Amy smiled at her one more time, then pushed her way into the room.
