There had been some changes in the city of Albany for the better. People were out and about, but a military presence was felt and seen no matter where one might find themselves. Most of the vehicles on the road were military or medical or trucks pulling trailers filled with supplies. The people of the city along with the military were hard at work trying to restore Albany and they had already come a long way.
Yorke walked along the street, heading toward the Federal Building as he took in the activities around him. It felt good just to see people come together in spite of a devastating attack upon the entire country.
He saw the Federal Building just ahead. He hoped to find the answers he sought there because he didn’t have any desire to wait for this Michael Lenox to make a move on suspected terrorists. His partner, Randy Groh, had told him Lenox was an ATD agent watching the activities of his own partner, Albert Barrington. Whatever was going on there, Yorke intended to find out. However, he felt that time was of the essence so he was going to do a little research for himself.
He passed a few military and federal personnel, who only gave him a cursory glance. However, once he was in the lobby, he was stopped by two marine guards and one agent from Justice.
“This area is off limits to civilians,” Jerry Averill declared, barring Yorke’s way from going any further.
Yorke looked at him. “You can’t keep civilians out of here. It’s a Federal Building for the people. Aren’t you providing shelters here for them?”
Averill glared at him. “The shelters are full. We’re not taking any more--”
“I’m not interested in the shelters. I’m here to see an agent of the ATD named Albert Barrington.” He showed him his badge. “I’m an officer of the law, buddy. And an American citizen and if you think you can keep me from this building, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Averill folded his arms across his chest. “How do you think you’re going to get through?” He indicated the two marines at either side of him.
Yorke put his badge away. “These guys don’t work for you. They’re here for the people.” He glanced at them. “Am I right?”
The marines looked at each other. Then, they looked at Averill. “You’re absolutely right, sir.”
Averill turned to him. “This man is not cleared to be here.”
“We were doing our jobs just fine before you interfered,” the marine replied. “Your presence is required elsewhere, I’m sure.”
Yorke inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.
Averill pointed at the two marines. “I’ll have you on report.”
The marines exchanged glances and chuckled. “These Justice types all think they’re so important.” One of them pointed firmly at Averill, poking him in the chest. “Go back from where you came or exit through the front door by being thrown out.”
Averill stared. “You can’t do that.”
The marine whistled.
Averill hesitated. Slowly, he turned his head and noticed four other marines, just itching for someone to throw. Finally, he turned to face Yorke. “Albert Barrington is not here.”
Yorke shrugged. “Then I want to see the man in charge of the ATD.”
“I don’t--”
The marine guard interrupted him. “Mr. Yorke, we’ve seen your credentials. The elevators are working but they may seem a little sluggish because they’re on generated power. You can find the ATD Center on the seventh floor. The man you’re looking for is Director Darren Fuller and I’m sure he’ll help you.”
Yorke nodded. “Thank you.” He patted Averill on the shoulder. “Maybe you should find a new job that doesn’t have anything to do with people skills. Alright, buddy?”
Averill just glared at him.
Yorke couldn’t help but grin as he headed toward the elevator.
There was no real way to keep McLaughlin from getting loose and coming after them with a vengeance if he chose to do so. Barrington and Moore put him into a small room with no window, closed the door, and padlocked it. The room was a small storage area, but the walls were made of chicken wire. McLaughlin remained standing as he glared through the cage he was in at Barrington.
“You’re a fool if you think this will hold me,” he promised.
Barrington shook his head. “I’m not your enemy.”
“Really? Now isn’t that funny?”
“Look, you don’t know what’s going on here. You don’t know what’s really at stake.”
McLaughlin folded his arms across his chest and looked at him. “Why don’t you explain it to me, then?”
Barrington would have, but he didn’t get the chance. Saint and his wife, Chris, entered into the shelter with news for the ATD agent. “That fellow you brought on the chopper isn’t doing well,” Saint began, “and your doctor friend wants to get him to a hospital. Donna has volunteered to show you the way there.”
Barrington frowned. Then, he reached for his gun from its holster. He held it out toward Saint with the barrel of the weapon leveled at the floor. “Here. Take this,” he said. “You’re going to need it.”
Saint shook his head. “No. That won’t be necessary.”
“If McLaughlin gets loose--”
“You don’t really want me to shoot him, now, do you?”
Barrington hesitated. Finally, he shook his head. “No…No, of course not, but there’s no telling what he’ll do if he gets loose.” He turned his head, fully aware that McLaughlin was watching them and listening to them. “John…I’d feel a whole lot better if you accepted this.”
Saint shrugged. “Sorry, but that’s not my style. You keep it, Brother Bear. I can keep an eye on him without a weapon. Besides, we’ve got guardian angels who are on God’s payroll. Who needs anything else?”
Barrington looked at Moore.
Moore shook his head. “Don’t look at me, son. Besides, I’m going with you.”
“Is that necessary?”
“Sure, it is. Not every day an old man like me can enjoy a field trip out to a hospital.” Moore shrugged. “Besides, I’d like to keep an eye on Firewoman. She worries about me and all.”
Barrington returned his weapon to its holster. Then, he said, “Alright…Pa and I will go in the Storm Breaker. I’ll send Erin back down to you, John, so you and Chris aren’t alone. She’ll be armed.” He looked at McLaughlin. “And she won’t hesitate to fire if she has to.” That was for the secret service agent’s benefit, but Barrington wasn’t sure if Erin would actually shoot or not. He knew she had never been on the field and in a hostile situation where brute force was necessary.
Would Erin fire her weapon if she had no choice?
He didn’t know. He hoped McLaughlin didn’t know either because at least not knowing might make him hesitant if he did try to escape. With those thoughts, he and Moore headed out of the shelter.
As they were leaving, Saint clapped his hands together. “Chris…did I leave my Bible on the table?” He reached for a chair and pulled it close to the wire mesh cage McLaughlin was behind. “Since our friend here is a captive audience, I feel compelled to tell him the true story of Jesus Christ.”
“What does that mean?” Staci asked no one in particular after she had just heard King tell her of Sumter complaining about something in his head.
King shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I was under the assumption he was simply complaining of a headache.” He paused. “Maybe it is more than that. I mean, I’m not a doctor, but he seems to feel that whatever is going on in his head is more severe than his wounded knee. That‘s the impression I got anyway.”
Barrington and Moore approached the Storm Breaker as Staci and King discussed Sumter. Barrington stopped beside Erin. “Chuck is in the cage, and he’s not happy about it.” He glanced at the others. “I’m not happy about leaving you with this either. I should probably stay, but…we don’t know what we’ll be facing once we get into town.”
“I’ll be okay,” Erin assured him. “I’ve got the Saints with me.”
King moved to get out of the helicopter. “I’m just taking up room. I’ll stay, too. Besides, isn’t that why you brought me along? To move me to this shelter?”
Barrington nodded. “Okay…but Erin, don’t hesitate to shoot if you have to.”
“I won’t shoot him.”
“Erin…”
“Al, you know I won’t shoot Chuck,” Erin persisted. “He hasn’t done anything and he isn’t the enemy. He just hasn’t come to Christ yet and that’s the only crime he’s committing. We can’t help him come to God by shooting him, can we?”
Barrington paused. “No…I guess we can’t.”
Erin smiled at him. “But be of good cheer because with the Saint’s and King, we’ll be in the presence of God in that shelter and Chuck won’t be able to say he hasn’t heard about the Risen Savior.”
“Amen, sister!” Donna exclaimed.
King clapped Barrington on the shoulder. “We’ve got this side of things covered, my brother. You get Hank Sumter to the hospital and bring him into our family. He has work to do.”
Barrington regarded him. “What do you mean?”
“The Lord is going to use him.”
“How?”
King smiled. “Now that is up to Him, don’t you think?” He shrugged. “I just get this feeling God is preparing him for something, so I do believe he will accept our Lord as his own. Other than that, I cannot really tell you why I feel this way. Only that I do. Who is to say who will do what for God? Only God can say. All I know is that when God purposes to do a work through someone we least expect, He does it mightily.”
Barrington nodded. “In that case, we’d better get going.”
LeBeau patted Bandjough on the shoulder. “Let’s get the Storm Breaker rollin‘.”
The two pilots re-entered the cockpit and brought the helicopter back into operational mode. As they did, Barrington and Moore joined Staci, Donna, and the semi-comatose Sumter in the rear of the Storm Breaker. Barrington pulled the door closed. Outside, King and Erin stepped back and away from the helicopter as it began to rise from the ground.
They waved.
Bandjough grinned at them and waved back.
Then, the Storm Breaker took to the skies and was soon out of sight.
There was a knock on the door.
“Enter,” replied the man sitting at his desk, a state-of-the-art, GPS cellular phone held to his ear.
Averill entered into the office, prepared to vent his frustrations with the military presence in the Federal Building.
Ed Carr raised a hand up to silence him as he listened to the one who called him. He motioned for Averill to close the door.
Averill did, but he was still scowling as he thought about the marines in the lobby.
“This is good news,” Carr said into his phone, “but news I’ve been expecting. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what comes next…However, since people like you only respond to direct orders, then I have one for you. I want you and your men to go into Maine and find Sumter, Dr. Cohen, and this David King…and anyone who is with them.”
He paused as he listened to the response.
He shook his head, even though he knew the caller would not see the gesture. “No, no, no. Absolutely not. The only one I want taken alive is the doctor. I don’t care about the rest…” He paused. “Yes. That’s right.” He sat up. “Are you losing the translation here? Let me be clear then…Take Dr. Cohen into custody. Eliminate the others. Is that clear?” He smiled. “Good. Report back to me when this mission has been completed. And be certain you complete it.” He snapped his cell phone shut and turned to Averill. “We found them.”
Averill was impressed. “That was fast.”
“Of course, it was. Once you’re under A.I.M.’s radar, you can’t escape it.”
“Why do you want to take Dr. Cohen into custody, but not the others?”
Carr sat back and regarded him for a moment. “Because the others are unimportant. They serve no purpose for who we work for. Dr. Cohen, however, has strong ties with Director Fuller and his so-called Christian band.” He said the word Christian as if it were a curse. “I may be able to use her against them in the future.” A grin slowly spread on his face. “However…we do have one other tool on our side that the ATD don’t realize.”
Averill paused. “What’s that?”
“Not what. Who?”
“Okay…then, who?”
The grin widened. “We’ve got Michael Lenox.”
When Yorke arrived at the ATD Center, he didn’t find Director Fuller anywhere. He was told he had just missed them and was then redirected to someone else who might be able to assist him. An ATD agent led him to an office and knocked on the door. Then, he looked at Yorke and sighed. He wanted to warn the police detective what he was getting into by visiting him but decided not to.
Suddenly, there was another knock…but from within the office.
Yorke looked at the agent.
The agent cleared his throat and knocked again. “Ah…Mr. Fronk…? There’s someone out here to speak with Director Fuller but--”
The door suddenly flung open and Fronk stepped out, putting his face close to the agent’s. His eyes widened like a mad man. “Do I loook like Director Fuller ta you, laddie?” He spoke with a thick, Scottish accent.
“Ahhh…no, but--”
“Does me dooor have the Director’s name tag, which says that this is the office of Director Fuller, laddie?”
The agent cleared his throat. “Well, no, but--”
“No! Of course, it doon’t!” Fronk tossed his hands up into the air. “How is it ya people take me for the Director when my dooor tag clearly indicates that me name is William Fronk and not Director Fuller, and it should be also quite clear by the loooks of me that I don’t even resemble the Director in any ways. Now do I?”
The agent shook his head. “Well, no, of course you--”
“Then I fails ta understand why ya come ta me with people who want to see the Director!”
“But the Director isn’t here. He just left and--”
“Well, of course, he just left! I sent him away on an errand of most urgency!”
The agent and Yorke looked at him. Yorke didn’t know what to make of him but even he knew that a Director didn’t take orders from staff members. Fronk was a staff member at the ATD Center.
Fronk paused. “What doo ya want?”
The agent indicated Yorke. “This gentleman is here to see the Director. As the Director is absent, along with Miss Greye, it, ah, falls upon you as the next person to take visitors.”
Fronk blinked and stepped back. “Oh, my! I gets ta have visitors?”
The agent glanced at Yorke, who clearly had no idea what to make of Fronk. “Uhm, yeah. Sure. Why wouldn’t you get a visitor?”
Fronk leaned toward him and gestured for Yorke to move closer, as if he was about to reveal a secret. In the thick Scottish accent, he said, “The last time I had a visitor, he caught me singing to me printer.” He paused for affect. “Ya see, me coomputer was acting up and me printer was soo goood, I just had ta sing it an old Irish melody.”
Fronk then cleared his throat and sang softly…
Across the ocean wild and wide…
To where your heart has ever been…
Since first you were my bonny bride…
The roses all have left your cheeks…
I've watched them fade away and die.” 1
He stopped singing and suddenly sniffed, as if he were trying to keep himself from crying. “Alas, laddies…T’is an emotional thing, it is…Ta sing ya’re heart out ta a printer is noot normal, no…but ta name it Kathleen is stranger still.” He held up a finger. “This is what keeps me from having visitor’s, so thanks from the bottom of me heart fer dropping by.” He grabbed a hold of Yorke’s hand and shook it rigorously.
Yorke glanced at the agent who brought him to this mad man. “Ah…yeah, yeah, sure. Nice to meet you…I think.”
“I, ah…” the agent paused, “I hope Mr. Fronk here can help you.” He didn’t seem so sure that he would, but chose not to voice that concern out loud. Instead, he turned and left Yorke with Fronk.
Fronk looked at Yorke, one eyebrow raised. “Now…what can I do for ya, laddie?”
“Yeah…” Yorke began, “well, the first thing you can do is stop calling me laddie.”
Fronk nodded. “Done, lad.”
“And don’t call me lad either.”
“Then, what shall I call you?”
“How about Brian as that is my name? Brian Yorke.”
“Then, Brian Yorke…what can I do for the likes of ya?”
Yorke paused. “I’ve got some questions about Albert Barrington and a terrorist named Darwyn Musad. I wanted to see your Director about them, but he seems to be kind of hard to get a hold of. Do you think you could help me out?”
Fronk waved a hand toward the open doorway of his office. “Step into me lair and I will do my level best.”
Yorke sighed. He wasn’t sure about this but reluctantly, he stepped inside the lair of Fronk and the Crazy Man followed, closing the door behind him.
1 - Irish Song; “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen” (Author unknown)
No comments:
Post a Comment