Chapter 9
2213 Words
ASHLEY SHOWED up early with more groceries. Another full house for dinner. When Mary helped unload the food, Fritz noticed a bulge in the small of her back.
ASHLEY SHOWED“Mary,” he asked, “are you carrying?”
“Of course.”
Jane"s return a few hours later sparked an explosion of questions. She answered as many as she could. The feds still had no idea who was responsible for the attacks, and all military resources were on alert.
Jane was pacing. “Why is the Navy being targeted?” she asked. Ashley suggested that the Navy targets were easily accessed, that no one guarded underwater. Fritz agreed. He said the attackers could take their time if they knew when routine checks were scheduled.
“Easy targets,” Linda mused. “Jane, what was the Navy"s general response after Norfolk was hit?”
“Increased surveillance. Moved ships. Called off leave.”
“Right. Motion with no strategy. And what about the eyewitness?” Linda asked.
“Oh, she"s dead all right. Her lawyer blocked the door and gave her poisoned soda. I don"t know if he knew what he had, but they were both dead in three minutes.” She shook her head. “We have video. It was gruesome.” The woman, Caitlin Morgan, had been a computer analyst for National Digital Communications, a leading cyber-security company.
Investigators were looking for more information on her, and agents were collecting security film. Finding the people involved would be hard without someone claiming responsibility. The North Korean government had responded to the secretary of state. They said they were not responsible, but seeing the second attack, wanted to assure the president he would receive their cooperation moving forward. A representative had actually flown in from North Korea.
* * *
THE PRESIDENT went on TV that night. He assured the nation that the military was prepared to act. No claim of responsibility had surfaced, and all law enforcement agencies were investigating.
* * *
ASHLEY WAS ALREADY at his desk when Fritz arrived at school, wondering aloud if vacation had skipped them. Only when he spotted Ashley"s sweater did Fritz realize he was cold.
“Doesn"t feel like we"ve left,” he said. Eric Silver poked his head in and told them that the script was written through the 1930s. He handed them copies.
“Good job, Eric,” said Ashley. “I"ll talk to Jean later and try to read it tonight.”
“Thanks, Mr. Gilbert. I"ll see you later, Mr. R.”
“They didn"t have a vacation either,” Ashley said.
The first class, his tenth graders, set the table. They were grumpy and worried.
“Mr. R,” said AJ, “I"ve been reading the news and watching reports for a week. It wasn"t a fun vacation.”
“AJ, what are you thinking?”
“I watched the president last night. I don"t think he knows what he"s doing.”
Mary Ann jumped him. “How can you say that? He has a hard job. Do you want a war?”
The play distracted the next class. Fritz thanked them for taking time to work so hard during vacation. As the period wound down, Bob Bee asked, “Mr. R, do you think we"re going to war again?” By lunch, Fritz had heard questions about war in each class. Ashley told him the same had happened in his classes.
After lunch, Fritz talked about the French and Indian War and England"s rise to international power. But the kids still asked about the news. In seventh period, he started by congratulating Johnny Clayton for having been chosen for the all-state football team. His class on the history of work was discussing wartime production during World War II, so the news gave them an incentive to talk about the military-industrial complex. His ninth graders were chafing in their seats and questions flew. They barely mentioned the tournament.
“HI, HONEY, I"m home,” said Fritz. “Anything new?”
Jane said, “Nothing that"s been released. The president said nothing is conclusive, but the chemistry indicates the same explosives were used in Norfolk and San Diego.”
* * *
“WE"VE CREATED A CRISIS,” the younger man laughed, raising a glass of bourbon. “I salute you. They"ll be busy for a decade figuring it out.” His host sipped a dry martini and withheld comment. “A great idea, absolutely perfect.” The young man"s effusive reaction brought tremors to his companion"s well-honed sense of caution.
“The girl and the lawyer are traceable,” said the man. He walked to the windows, watching a wave smash the rocks below. “You need to be watchful and silent. You will be questioned, more likely sooner than later. I recommend a trip, one that began two weeks ago. Can you arrange it?”
“No problem. I was on my boat,” the younger responded with an off-handed impertinence.
The man knew then his associate was lucky, not smart. “And where was your boat?”
“Just driving around. Didn"t stop anywhere.”
The man nodded, recognizing a weak link that jeopardized everything.
* * *
THE NEXT WEEK, Linda went back to school. She was taking three courses, one involving a major project. She thought she could begin to think about setting up her bicycle store. Finding the money would come first, but she knew what she was doing. In addition to her graduate coursework, her father, an innovator in corporate financial management, had begun teaching her about his work when she was very young.
“I"ll have to buy a bike so we can race, Fritz,” said Ashley. “How about a buck a minute? I"ll design the race course. Lin, I"ll be your first customer.”
* * *
THE PRESIDENT was frustrated by the investigation"s lack of progress. No one had claimed responsibility. The videos disclosed unidentifiable divers. The military and law enforcement teams had no reports. A dead woman and her dead lawyer formed the only tangible connection. A single link. Three weeks after the San Diego bombing, the president faced another Sunday of talk-show critics. No man is an island? he thought. Yeah, right.
No man is an island?Yeah, right.Jane spent most of the week with General Beech and the CIA Director. The facts pointed to a single set of perpetrators. Friday afternoon, Jane sat at the Russells" kitchen table, looking at the snow-covered lawn through the bay window. Her phone had been silent all day. Startled by the ring, she jumped.
“Yes, General?”
“Jane, you were right. There"s a definite link. It"s the Eledorians.”
“General, there"s a link, but it"s not them. It was mercenaries, bought and supplied by someone else. This ties back to Koppler. I"m sure of it. Someone is pulling strings. And spending a lot to do it. General, I don"t know if you know, but I worked with the colonel saving the Israeli settlers.”
The general interrupted. “I didn"t know. The portal?”
Jane continued, “Um-hmm. The troops that attacked the settlement had no identifying markings. The planes were stolen, and we captured no prisoners.” She spotted two cardinals in a tree. “General, you are already sworn. You know I have to report this discussion to the president. He"s got a list of everything to do with the portal. I want you to know that I trust you, but the president requires it. Nothing personal.”
General Beech laughed. “Jane, everything with you is personal. But don"t worry. I get it. You know, Fritz and Ashley have a lot of guts. Those guys handled the Speaker and Admiral Davis. I don"t think they know how hard that was. And the football coach couldn"t have done a better job.”
Jane knew the mercenaries could have been Eledorians fighting for funds rather than country. Facing terrible shortages of food, shelter, and medicine made them eager for cash. Whoever was paying them was still hidden, though, and Jane wanted to look for large, unusual bank transfers that might lead them to the puppeteer.
* * *
FRITZ AND ASHLEY had planned to play ball Friday afternoon. Liz Chambers found Fritz in his classroom, already in shorts and tee shirt. He had given her the list of questions he had prepared and the tentative schedule for all the games.
She said, “Some of the teachers are already working with the kids. They don"t want to lose. They"re going to have fun, but they"ll be competitive. We may need to set up the cafeteria for the overflow.”
“The kids amaze me. Thanks for your help, Liz.”
“George will have a full house when this gets started. Do you know what Susan Leslie and your kids did over the holidays?” Fritz said they hadn"t told him. “Well, she corralled her sisters and their friends to go door-to-door with flyers about the tournament. Every flyer had a form for a scholarship donation. They"ve raised nearly $20,000. They"re at the office now opening envelopes. George is beside himself.” Fritz started to laugh.
He and Ashley surprised the twelve students sitting on the office floor. Stacks of unopened envelopes surrounded them. Susan, Mary Ann, and Pat were collecting the checks and cash, recording the proceeds, and writing receipts. A crew of kids was addressing outgoing mail.
“Hi, Mr. R,” said Susan. The other kids looked up, said hello, and returned to their tasks.
“So. Holding out on me, huh?” Susan smiled and said they wanted to surprise him.
George poked his face out his office door. “Mr. Russell, may I speak to you please?” Fritz winked at Susan, grinned at Ashley, and said he was on his way.
“This is amazing, isn"t it, George?” He closed the door.
“Did you know about this?”
“I just found out. They did all this over the holidays.”
“There"s all sorts of money here. This is very irregular.”
“How do we set up an account for the scholarship fund? What did you do with Liz"s check?”
“It"s in my desk. Don"t worry. It"s safe. Fritz, they went all over town. I keep getting calls. Every time I try to get something done, it"s another call. This has to stop. I can"t even go home.”
“I can"t believe you sometimes. Liz told me she thinks we"ll need the cafeteria for the crowd at the games.”
“This is out of control.”
“George, calm down. We have time to work out the details. If it"s too much for you, ask for help.”
“You"re going to have to cancel this, Fritz. I"m sorry. You"re just going to have to.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“If I have to do it without your cooperation, I will. We"re not canceling. If you want to go home, I"ll move the kids to my room. And I"ll tell them to use it from now on.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. Ms. Sweeney said that the superintendent was on the phone. “See, now look at the trouble.” George picked up his phone. “Hello, Mr. Chatham.” George glared while he listened. “Well, of course I know. In fact, Mr. Russell is right here.” Then, like a scolded puppy, he sat down. “Thank you. That"s very kind.” His face suddenly looks like library paste, Fritz thought. “I"ll tell him. Yes, you too. Bye, now.” George set the phone in the cradle. “That was the superintendent.”
His face suddenly looks like library paste“I know.” Fritz waited.
“He said he"s been getting calls about the tournament and congratulated us for a wonderful idea. He said he"ll be here for the games.”
“Still want to cancel, George?” Bewildered, George shook his head. “Then I"ll go move the kids to my room.”
“No, don"t bother. I"ll stay a little late. Let them finish up today. You can move them on Monday.”
Fritz thanked him and snorted softly after he left the office. He caught Ashley"s eye and shook his head.
“Kids, on Monday, we"ll move all this to my room. Okay?”
“Mr. Russell,” said Ms. Sweeney. “May I speak to you for a second?” Fritz sat by her desk and leaned forward. She whispered, “You should know they"ve been exceptional. They"ve stayed out of the way and cleaned up. They"re so excited that all the teachers are commenting. You should be proud of them.”
“Thanks, Ms. Sweeney. I am. I"m sure George will be too when we get started.”
“You know, I can"t wait.”
Fritz and Ashley offered to help, but Susan said that they were okay, they had a system.
“You"re turning me down?”
“Well, yes. We"re doing fine.” Ashley laughed.
- Writer
