The Darque Side

Chapter Five

One of the first officials to arrive on the scene was an FBI Agent named Tom Harper, and, after viewing the scene in front of him, his first priority was to call for assistance, especially from medical facilities in the D.C. area.

Harper was a senior agent inside the Bureau who had been involved with several terrorist incidents, but none as devastating as the one he now witnessed.

As he viewed the site, his mind wandered for a second or two to his impending retirement when he would no longer have to partake in visions of such destruction and hatred.

His major concern was to help get the injured to medical personnel arriving on the scene while trying not to disturb as much of the evidence as possible.

Trying to gather uninjured witnesses in a location where they could be questioned about the incident would be difficult, because he knew many of them were in shock and roaming around aimlessly, and probably wouldn’t be able to provide much helpful information.

Pandemonium had replaced the solemnity of the site, and, as might be imagined, confusion now reigned in its place.

With the arrival of more medical personnel and equipment on the scene, training and experience took over and a semblance of order began to return.

Casualties were taken to a triage location where patients injuries were identified, and the victims were stabilized before being transported to area hospitals for further treatment.

To put it mildly, the FBI had a mess on its hands.

One of the most iconic places in the country had been attacked.

A location designated as the final resting place for so many who gave their lives defending this country against all enemies so its citizens could exercise their rights and live their lives without fear of interference.

Although nothing was yet known about the explosion, it may well have been a plot executed by someone from outside the borders of the US, and was a vivid reminder that ‘freedom is not free’.

Picking through the destruction like gemologists searching for diamonds in matrix, crime scene technicians photographed and collected anything that might be considered evidence in order to help build a case against whomever had perpetrated the deed.

After helping to direct personnel to areas where they were needed, Harper made a final search through the area and found what appeared to be another body covered with fur.

A closer examination disclosed the fur belonged to an unconscious, large German shepherd wearing a harness designed for guide dogs, and it was lying atop the body of an unconscious blind man he had probably been assisting.

As soon as he determined both were still alive, he summoned medical aid for them, and then went through the man’s clothing looking for some form of identification.

He found the man’s wallet in his pocket and located an identification card with nothing more than the man’s name on it: Richard Zimmerman.

Years of experience caused Harper to become more curious about the man as he wondered why the ID only contained a name and no address or any other identifying data.

He understood why a blind man wouldn’t have a driver’s license, but most people had receipts, ticket stubs or some other form of pocket litter on them – Zimmerman had none.

While he was pondering the situation, medical personnel arrived and removed both the man and his dog to medical facilities.

Once the two were taken away, Harper continued combing through the site but uncovered no further major findings.

After returning to his office, he planned to scrutinize all the recordings made by security cameras in the area for any indication of who was responsible for the heinous act.

When he had completed his examination, he turned toward the woods and wondered once again why a blind man would wander into an area where his footing among exposed tree roots and other natural impediments would be precarious at best.

It didn’t make sense.

Something had drawn the man and his dog into the wooded site, but if the man was blind, what did he think he’d be able to do … or see.

The actions of the dog also bothered him.

He knew a guide dog was trained to do whatever’s necessary to keep his handler from walking into a hazardous situation, and the ground contained obvious indications that it would be dangerous for a blind man to walk into the tree-covered area.

After completing his preliminary investigation at the site, Harper got into his car and drove to the hospital where he had determined the blind man had been taken for treatment.

Although he knew nothing about the dog, a matter he felt was of little importance, he had written down the information about the blind man’s identity he found on an ID card in the man’s wallet.

With notebook in hand, he approached one of the doctors on the hospital’s staff and questioned him about the patient he was seeking.

“Do you remember a blind man who was brought here for treatment after the Cemetery attack?” he asked.

The doctor took a few seconds trying to recall the people he had treated, but he didn’t remember seeing a blind man.

“I don’t remember treating anyone who was blind, but if you have the person’s name, I can check the computer to see if any of the other doctors noted such a condition in any of the victims they treated.”

“The man’s name is Richard Zimmerman, and that’s pretty much everything I know about him.”

The physician doing the search on the computer finally looked up from the monitor and began to scan the room before turning back to Harper.

“Do you see the doctor standing next to that desk?” he asked pointing across the room.

Harper looked where the man was pointing and saw the individual being indicated.

“Yes,” Harper replied.

“That’s the doctor listed as the one who took care of the man you’re looking for.”

“Thanks,” said Harper as he walked over to the other physician.

As the two men met, Harper identified himself and asked if the doctor could tell him anything about the blind man he had treated.

“Well,” said the man, “I can tell you about his injuries and treatment, but I have no idea what he was up to.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Harper.

“He got hit by a few pieces of shrapnel, but his real injury was a pretty severe concussion from hitting his head on something.”

Harper recalled finding the blind man lying next to a tree trunk, and thought that was probably the cause of the injury.

“What did you mean when you said you had no idea what he was up to?”

“He wasn’t blind,” said the doctor.

The response caught Harper off guard, and he just looked at the doctor waiting for him to continue.

“I know he had a guide dog in harness with him, but he had lenses that were prosthetics, and one of them had been knocked loose, probably during his encounter with whatever caused his concussion. After seeing that, I checked his other eye and removed an artificial lens from it, and then tested both eyes for reaction to light and a couple of other things. I don’t know who he is or what he was doing, but I assure you … he wasn’t blind.”

Harper was still at a loss trying to figure out what was going on, but he thanked the doctor for the information and asked him where he could find Zimmerman.

“That’s a good question,” he replied, “I have no idea where he is. After things began to calm down a little around here, I went to the room where he had been taken so I could check on his condition and see if I could figure out what he was up to, but he wasn’t there. No one reported seeing him leave, but in my professional opinion, he would have been unconscious at the time.”

“So, it would appear someone removed him.”

“That would be my guess.”

Harper looked around the area and spotted some bare wires dangling from the ceiling.

“What’s with the wires poking through the ceiling?” Harper asked.

“The hospital just purchased a new security system and cameras were in the process of being installed when the attack occurred. The work has been put on hold until things get back to normal.”

Nothing seemed to be going his way, so Harper thought he’d try again.

“What happened to Zimmerman’s dog?” Harper asked.

“I had it taken to a local animal hospital for treatment, but I don’t think it was injured too badly even though it was still unconscious. If you want my opinion, I’d say they were both hit by the back-blast of some kind of weapon that kicked up a lot of debris, and it was the blast and debris that caused the injuries.”

Harper thought about what the doctor had said and realized a claymore mine being detonated had the described characteristics.

“Do you know the address of the clinic he was sent to?” Harper asked.

The doctor turned to the woman sitting behind the desk and asked her to check for the name and location of the facility, and then to make a phone call to it to check on the dog’s condition.

Since Harper was standing beside the desk when the call was made, and the caller had put the instrument on speaker phone, he heard the entire conversation.

Apparently, the dog, whose name was Bill according to the tag attached to his harness, was immediately taken into surgery and operated on to remove shrapnel from its back and rear, and to set a broken leg.

The person on the phone said the dog had come through the procedures well, but since several men had shown up at the location to take possession of the animal, he had no idea how or where the dog was recovering.

Hearing the man’s response on the phone immediately attracted Harpers interest.

“This is Agent Harper of the FBI. Can you describe the people who took the dog?”

“Not really,” came the reply. “I was away from my desk when they came into the building, so I didn’t have my glasses on. There were three men, and while one of them talked to me, the other two went into the recovery area and returned carrying the dog on a board. The two men immediately left and put the dog on the back seat of a black car.”

“Did any of the men threaten you in any way?”

“No. They were very polite, but I had the impression it wouldn’t have been a good idea to offer any resistance or question in their actions. They were very concerned about the animal’s treatment and well-being, and I don’t think they meant to harm it in any way. The man who talked to me was quite tall, and before leaving he gave me $5000 in $100 bills as payment for the dog’s treatment.”

Something finally seemed to be going Harper’s way.

“Do you still have the money he left?”

“Yes,” came the reply.

“Can you put the bills in an envelope for me without touching them?”

“Sure, but I touched them when he gave them to me, and he and his companions were wearing gloves the whole time they were in the clinic in case you were thinking about checking the money for fingerprints.”

Being outsmarted didn’t bother Harper near as much as trying to figure out why the men had taken such precautions to remain unidentified.

“You don’t happen to have security cameras in the clinic, do you?” Harper asked, already suspecting the answer wouldn’t be of any help.

“No. I never considered the idea of someone taking animals from here without following proper procedures, but I guess it’s hard telling what some people will do.”

Harper quickly realized he wasn’t getting anywhere with his questioning, so he thanked the man and turned to the doctor.

“Thanks for your assistance, but if you think of anything else that might help me identify or locate Mr. Zimmerman, please give me a call.”

Harper shook the doctor’s hand and gave him one of his business cards, but he didn’t think he’d be hearing from the physician again.

Even though he was disappointed with the results of his investigation so far, Harper knew he had to get back to his office and make out a report on everything he had discovered concerning the attack.

He hadn’t yet seen any of the photographs taken by members of the FBI team on the scene, nor had he been able to talk to any of the other agents who had been investigating the site, but he was sure there would be a massive amount of evidence to analyze before any conclusions could be reached about what had happened or who the perpetrators might be, but he was sure of one thing: there was more going on than an attack on a national monument.