Authors: Victor Methos
“Then they’ll send the military in.”
“I don’t think they can do anything either.”
William laughed. “You telling me one man is more powerful than our entire Armed Forces? Then why hasn’t he made his move yet? Why not just take us out and take over the whole damn country?”
Jack shook his head, staring off at a man bicycling across the street. “I don’t know. He has something planned. I can feel it. But I don’t know what it is.”
“Jack! Listen to yourself. This guy will take one shot to the dome and he’s done. You don’t need to get all doomsday on me.”
Jack realized he wasn’t getting through to him. He remembered something Emerson had written: “What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say.”
Jack took the clip out of the gun that was sitting on the table. He bent the barrel and twisted the grip and trigger guard up, forming it into a ball. It was like something you’d see in a cartoon, except it wasn’t funny now. Using both hands, he squeezed it into a perfect sphere of metal and placed it back on the table.
William’s mouth had fallen open. He sat in stunned silence, staring at the metal ball on the table. The waitress came over to take their order and she had to ask him three times if he was ready before she turned to Jack.
“We’re not quite ready, thank you.”
William reached over and picked the gun up. He twisted it in his fingers a few times and then placed it back down before looking up at Jack.
“And he’s more powerful than I am,” Jack said.
William sat a few more moments, staring at the ball of metal and then said, “All right. What do we need to do?”
CHAPTER 34
Jack was at a local gun store when he happened to glance up at the flat screen that hung on the wall. It was the mid-afternoon news on channel seven. A young reporter with dark, chestnut hair spoke about the heat wave that was roasting the city before she turned to another reporter, a blond with fake breasts, whose name appeared in a graphic underneath her face. It was Veronica Gables. Veronica was on location at the scene of an accident.
“And now, our own Veronica Gables has an update on the vigilante Good Samaritan that saved the life of a two-year-old Burbank child. Veronica.”
“Thanks, Darlene,” she said. “For those of you that haven’t kept up on the story, two-year-old Andrew Klipfel was pinned underneath his mother’s Chrysler minivan when she flipped the car after what the police are saying was an incident of texting while driving. The toddler was pinned in his car seat when the gas tank was ignited by a spark and the vehicle caught fire.”
The image shifted to a police officer.
“We think it may have been a faulty spark plug or something along those lines,” the officer said. “Something you wouldn’t expect or could prepare for in a million years. But lightning had to strike and it struck here.”
Switching back, Veronica continued. “Bystanders were in shock. The Los Angeles Police Department arrived on the scene in record time but were at a loss as to what exactly could be done to save the child’s life.”
The police officer again.
“About sixty percent of the car was engulfed in flames by the time our first unit responded and we were worried about an explosion. In consultation with the fire department we felt it was too dangerous to allow anyone to attempt a rescue. It was a tough call, but it was one we had to make.”
Back to Veronica.
“That’s when a mysterious man came on the scene and took everyone by surprise.” A screen shot from someone’s cell phone camera came on. It showed a man in a black, skin-tight suit with white eyes. “Witnesses state that this man calls himself ‘The Dragon.’ And what he did was beyond belief.”
The officer said, “He flipped the car over and pulled the child out. Plain and simple. Most amazing thing I’ve certainly seen in my lifetime.”
Veronica stated, “Witnesses report that the male was at least six feet tall and perhaps two hundred and seventy to two hundred and ninety pounds. After the child was brought safely into the arms of his mother, this man simply sprinted away and vanished, before the police could even interview him about what had occurred.” Veronica’s eyebrows furrowed. “And, amazingly, there was another incident involving this man the same night.”
The video switched to the woman Jack had saved in the parking lot. It was a short interview about the details of what had occurred and at the end the woman said, “He’s my guardian angel.”
The interview ended and Veronica said, “We don’t know much about him, but we do know that he saves people who most need the saving. Darlene.”
Darlene nodded and said, “Now, Veronica, I’m assuming this man is dangerous.”
“We don’t know if he is. All we know at this point is that he saved the life of a child and the life of a young girl that was being attacked. Other than that, we have no real information.”
“Wow. Amazing story. You’ll have to keep us updated on the whereabouts of this Dragon. Especially if he ever comes forward.”
She grinned. “I will. Thank you.”
“Thank you.” She turned back toward the camera and moved on to another story.
“Sir, sir?”
Jack looked over to the man behind the counter.
“Sir, you gonna buy something or not?”
“Oh, sorry.”
As Jack walked out of the gun shop his cell phone rang. The number belonged to the cell he had bought for Heidi.
“I know,” Jack said.
“Know what?”
“Oh, I thought you’d watched the news.”
“No, what did it say?”
“Apparently witnesses saw a masked vigilante help some people. Not really a big deal. I’m sure the story’ll fade.”
“I think you’re taking risks you don’t have to, Jack.”
“I told you. I can’t just close my eyes and pretend I don’t hear them. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”
“When are you going to be home?”
The intimacy of the statement struck him and it brought a smile to his face. He had not had someone ask him that since he was a child.
“Soon. Why?”
“Dinner plans. I’m cooking. Hope you like duck.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then.”
“Bye.”
He hung up and walked across the street to his Viper. A group of young kids, maybe no more than fourteen, walked past him on the sidewalk. Before he could acknowledge them or form a conscious thought, he had spun around, knocking the gun out of the hands of the one closest to him.
The boy stood there with disbelief in his eyes. Jack grabbed him by the collar and lifted him in the air with one hand.
“If I see you out in the streets trying to rob people again,” Jack said, “I’m not going to be as nice next time.”
As he dropped the boy, who fell to his backside, the friends scattered. Jack walked over and picked up the gun, twisting the barrel into nearly a pretzel shape and tossing it into a nearby garbage can. The boy didn’t move or speak. Jack winked at him as he got into his car, and pulled away from the curb.
CHAPTER 35
Colonel Finley sat at his desk, staring at a computer screen. His boots were up on a footrest and he sipped Irish coffee out of a mug that said, “Happy Father’s Day.” He placed the mug down on the desk and looked outside. The facility had only a handful of windows, to ensure that no one could photograph what was going on inside, and he was glad he had chosen an office that had one. Even if it was small and cramped.
A black sedan came to the gates out front and he watched the MPs as they performed the routine checks. Two new recruits stationed here were in that car, along with two guards. Men handpicked by Finley, as everyone here was.
Though he wasn’t one for reflection, he couldn’t help but think of the day he arrived here. Fresh out of Army Intelligence and a post in Saudi Arabia, he wasn’t much older than his son is now. He was such an idealist then. He thought the military was where the best in society gathered to pursue the most honorable goal: defending those that couldn’t or wouldn’t defend themselves.
Abruptly, his views changed. Once he saw the secrecy, the lies, the deception to the public, he realized he was being used by people in power for their own ends. The military was a tool that politicians used whenever they had the inclination and enough public support to do so. He had known from the first day that the invasion of Vietnam was a mistake, and even though he had more experience than those calling the shots, no one listened to him. From then on, he kept his head low and his mouth shut.
That’s how he ended up here. He developed a reputation as someone that didn’t need to boast and could be trusted with secrets. Now, in his late sixties and with a retirement waiver allowing him to work as long as he liked, he wondered if he had made the correct choice.
“Colonel?” His phone buzzed.
He pressed a button. “Yes?”
“They’re ready for you, sir.”
Finley glanced at his computer screen. The email he had been waiting for had arrived two minutes ago and he hadn’t caught it as he stared out the window.
“Be right there.”
He stood up and checked his uniform, a force of habit, and then left the room, heading toward the facility’s underground laboratories.
The facility itself was the most advanced he had seen, both in terms of the technology available and its fortitude. It was meant to keep people out and to withstand a full assault, even a nuclear detonation. Some of the government’s greatest secrets were buried here, and enemies couldn’t be allowed to damage the facility or take it.
As he stepped on the elevator he saw a flyer up ahead that said, “AREA 51 PARTY TONIGHT.”
He hated that term and how it had been applied to his facility. The implication that he was doing anything other than looking out for the best interests of his country bothered him.
The laboratories were dimly lit, enough so you could make your way around but not enough to see exactly what everyone was working on. Finley walked by a few work stations and got some stares; this wasn’t a place he usually visited.
At the far end of the second room over, large monitors covered the walls and men in uniforms sat behind computer screens. Finley came up to a man that was sipping a cola and leaning back in his chair.
“What’dya have for me, Gunnerson?”
Steve Gunnerson quickly placed his drink down and sat up straight. “We have a hit, sir.”
“Lemme see it.”
The monitor on the far wall pulled up an image of Jack Kane. It was one of him flying through the air at Finley’s men. An incredible feat, Finley thought. But one he had seen performed better before.
“His real name’s not Jack Kane, sir. That’s why we were unable to get a hit on anything for so long. We tracked down a foster home he was raised in. We made contact with some of his adoptive family, but they didn’t seem to know anything. The mother’s senile, and she’s probably the only one that would know his true identity, but it’s not unusual for adopting parents to learn nothing about the biological parents.”
“Cut to the chase.”
He cleared his throat. “Yessir. Address in Bel Air. A large estate left to him. But, sir, you’re not going to believe who his parents were.”
Finley pulled up a chair and sat down. “Tell me everything you know.”
CHAPTER 36
Jack was driving home when he saw William’s number flash on his iPhone. He answered.
“What’s going on, Will?”
“You sound like you’re in a good mood.”
“I haven’t felt this great in a long time. What’s up?”
“We got a Myr at the station. Armed robbery. He’s hinting that there may be some information he’s willing to trade in exchange for allowing him to be deported. Sounds big. I thought you might want in.”
Jack checked his watch. Heidi would be waiting for him. “Okay, I gotta make it quick, though.”
“Oh really? You got better plans than catching the man that took your legs?”
“I’m not a cop anymore. Won’t they have a problem with that?”
“I…I never turned in your badge. I thought you might need it somewhere down the line.”
“William—”
“You can get pissed at me later. Just get your ass down here.”
“All right.”
Jack called Heidi and she didn’t answer. He left a message saying he would be home in a couple of hours.
The precinct was nearly empty when Jack showed up. He had to show his driver’s license to the officer at the front desk since he didn’t have his badge and she glanced from the ID to the image on the computer screen several times before letting him into the precinct.
William was sitting in his cubicle, sipping coffee out of a Styrofoam cup with his feet on the desk, chatting with a couple of the other detectives about the day’s events. When he saw Jack, he finished his coffee and stood up. He put his suit coat on and buttoned the top button on his shirt.
“The top button,” Jack said. “This must be important.”
“The Myrs deserve it. You ready?”
Jack shrugged and they began walking to the back interrogation rooms.
“Saw the little piece on our mutual friend,” William said. “The Dragon? Couldn’t you come up with anything less corny?”
“It’s the first thing that popped into my mind.”
Rounding the corner, they ran into a group of Vice detectives. Scraggly with greasy hair and torn, stained clothing, they looked like they could be living under any bridge in the city. They said hello to William and ignored Jack.
The door to the interrogation room had a small one-way glass pane and Jack glanced at the man sitting at the table inside. He had long black dreadlocks and wore a black T-shirt and jeans. His leg bounced up and down frantically and his hands were folded in front of his face like he was in prayer.
“Name’s Kevin Shastro,” William said. “He wants out of the Myrs and doesn’t know how to do it. Says he’s got big information to trade in exchange for witness protection and then deportation to the country of his choice.”
William opened the door and went inside, Jack behind him. As William sat across from the boy, Jack leaned against the wall, his hands behind him, his eyes locked with Kevin’s.