The Traitor's Revenge, page 7
“There has been a lot of destruction lately and not all of it was with Management’s approval,” she said. “I’m sure of that. That despicable Richard Bach, I knew they wouldn’t be able to control him. Can you imagine?”
“What’s he done?”
“There have been several unexplained deaths here in our quiet suburbs that seem to be a warning but they don’t look like Management’s style.” Esther shook her head, weary from all of the years of having to calculate what others were doing. “I was actually glad when Management took that one in as a boy. Richard was such trouble even then. I was hoping that fear would keep him in line. I should have known better.”
“What kind of warning? What is it we need to be warned about aside from the usual machinations?” asked Tom.
“That is a good question and I’ve been rolling that one around in my head. You know, there seems to be some concern about what we might know. I think there’s information floating out there about Management that could be very bad for their plans.”
“What plans? You think it’s on that drive?”
“I don’t know but the way they’re behaving reminds me more of someone who is angry about something precious being lost than someone who is trying to get one over on their old opposition,” said Esther. “Like I said, maybe I have been playing this game for far too long and imagine more than what is really there.”
“Esther, you’re the reason my brothers and I are still alive at all. Your intuition has kept the wrong side from figuring out our identity more than once.”
Tom felt a shudder as he thought of the time when he was sixteen and had been awarded a National Achievement honor for his work on the robotics team. Management had briefly considered him as a potential candidate. It was Esther who quickly realized that they were digging into his background to check his lineage for any major fault lines.
A top cell of the Circle had been able to double back to all of the Weiskopf connections that had been so carefully arranged to make sure everyone would give the same well-rehearsed story. Tom had turned down the scholarship to Sutler without any lasting effects.
“This time is different. Back then all I was doing was confusing a handful of locals away from my precious Schmetterlings. Something has changed and they’re focused on our little hamlet. Bigger forces are gathering here. Why is that?”
“What do you mean, bigger? What have you seen?” asked Tom.
“Robin Spingler is in town. She’s been here for the past two weeks. I passed her in the Target and it was all I could do to not look back and see what she was doing.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing. They want to pull Richard back into line, keep a close eye on him.”
“Maybe, but something’s wrong. I keep thinking of a momma bird when a predator gets too close to the nest. They flap their wings and crow just off to the side to try and distract but they also never venture too far away.”
“Esther, you’re talking in circles.”
“I think there’s something here that’s become very important to them. There’s something about Richmond in particular but they’re trying to distract us from seeing it.”
“Do you think the missing drive has anything to do with it? Can an OTP mean that much to them?”
“No, it really shouldn’t,” said Esther.
“I haven’t been able to ask my brother. Does Max still hold the thumb drive?”
“Yes, but last I was able to connect with Norman no one had seen what else might be on it.”
“You mean, besides the Schmetterling Project,” said Tom. He felt a shudder move through him, again.
“It makes me nervous to even say those two words together out loud,” said Esther, gently shaking her head. “The horror of what happened the last time.”
“How would they ever pull off something like that again?” asked Tom.
“That’s not a storyline I let myself contemplate. Better to keep going and hope there’s enough time to fully enact our program. Then, maybe we’ll all be safe for at least a little while.”
“Esther, we’re talking years before that can happen. The first generation of children from those homes are just entering the workforce in waves. It’s another ten years before they really hold any positions of power. Once that happens, then we’ll have something.”
“Well, then we’ll have to make sure that can happen. Gott, please make it so.”
Outside, a white Volvo that had seen better days was pulling out of the Book People parking lot and turning right onto Granite where there would be fewer cars to note any coming or going. The front end of the car looked like it had recently been in some kind of collision with a very solid object but the car was rolling along nicely despite the damage.
Oscar leaned forward in his seat, adjusting the seat belt till it slid comfortably under his belly. “No one will know it was me,” he whispered. He made a mental note to replace the road flares he’d used from his trunk.
He was working without orders and taking out a small revenge on the old woman. Oscar knew the owners of the bookstore were with the Circle. He had caught a glimpse of their pins on more than one occasion. He was sure they had been harboring Circle operatives on more than one occasion but Bach had always told him to stand down and leave her alone. No explanation and as far as he could tell, nothing was ever done about it. But this past week had been too much for him. He couldn’t stomach just sitting by quietly while everyone else got to run around just as they pleased.
He saw Max Quinn enter the bookstore and was about to rush in when he caught a glimpse of Richard sliding in the back door. For just a moment he had felt a surge of pride that his people were going to finally do something. But he watched as a tall, thin man left in a hurry and then Richard followed not too long after that. Max didn’t stay too much longer but she still looked calm and in control. He hated that about her. Richard must have done nothing, once again.
At least he had never seen Oscar standing back in the shadows of the gas station across the narrow street watching all of them.
Oscar felt the wound across his cheek. It was healing nicely but the raised skin made his stomach churn with anger. Nothing was going right for him.
He made himself focus on what he had just put in motion. It wouldn’t be long now. He turned right onto River Road and headed for the other side of town. He would need an alibi he could tell Richard, just in case.
Tom missed what Esther was saying. He stood up slowly and turned his head just slightly as he tried to pay attention but at the same time catch a better whiff of something new in the air. He had always had a heightened sense of smell. He even knew when someone was smoking through two closed doors on another floor. Esther was talking about something but that smell was distracting him.
“Maybe there’s a way we can all have dinner together while you’re in town,” said Esther. “Are you paying attention? What is it?”
“Do you smell that? I can almost place it,” said Tom. The aroma just barely burned the inside of his nose and made him think of burning metal. That’s it, he thought as he jerked his head around to try and get a stronger whiff of the telltale odor. He jumped to his feet and a sickening dread came over him. The maze Esther had so carefully built was between him and the back door and he began shoving at the stacks of books in a desperate search to find a shortcut before it was too late. “There’s still time,” he called back.
“Tom, Tom! What are you doing?” yelled Esther, who was close behind him. He turned and shoved her backwards.
“Run! Run! Do it!” he barked at her. Esther looked puzzled for just a moment until the smell grew stronger and panic grew over her face. It was the last moment Tom had before he turned his head and saw the back of the bookstore peel away as it seemed to spit out a stream of books in a violent cresting wave all around them.
A bomb, a bomb, he thought, as he felt himself gently rise off of the floor. It’s amazing, he thought, how little it doesn’t hurt at all. All that changed as he covered his face with his arms while the hard edges of last year’s best sellers on how to manifest your dreams catapulted into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. He tried to twist and find Esther as he blew backwards but before he could turn at all he was hitting the floor. The pain rushed through his body and just before he closed his eyes for a while he looked up and saw a clear blue sky where there had just been a roof. It’s a nice day, he thought.
Norman’s phone rang only a few minutes later with word from a Circle operative in the fire department. There had been some kind of explosion at Book People. Norman knew Tom was stopping by there first after he got in from the airport.
Max was just coming in the door with Ned and Harriet who had wanted to take them to church that morning. Max told Norman she wanted to go to see if she could get Harriet to let anything slip about what was going on in Richmond. Norman knew that Max still wanted to believe that Harriet had limits that didn’t include murder, at least, not killing anyone other than close family members.
Max was still rattled by what they had found on the computer. Fortunately, Ned had not been able to comprehend what it all meant.
He didn’t have time to make any of it look seamless and pulled Max into the kitchen, the words coming out in one long stream.
“Something’s happened at the bookstore, at Book People,” he said quickly. “An explosion.”
“Esther,” said Max, her face turning ashen.
“I don’t know anything yet but I think Tom might be there too. I have to go. Are you alright here with your mother?”
“Of course, go, go. Ned and I will distract her but call me as soon as you know anything.” Norman saw the worry in her eyes and leaned in to kiss her, first on her forehead and then on the lips. He knew that he wasn’t the cause of any of the mayhem swirling around them but he still couldn’t help feeling a little guilty.
“I know what you’re thinking, Weiskopf and you aren’t that powerful,” said Max. “And you’re coming up with scenarios in your head based on what you think might have happened if we’d never met. How do you know that you didn’t save me from marrying some Management stiff who would have drawn me further into the organization?”
“I kind of doubt that would have been a marriage that lasted and that’s if someone like that would have ever been able to convince you to walk down the aisle in the first place,” said Norman. He felt himself relax just a little.
“Exactly,” said Max, “Go find your brother. Please let them be alright.”
10
Max’ last words had made Norman think to call the Reverend and ask him to meet him there. Father Donald was just finishing up his last service and said he’d be right over.
Normally, he’d have thought twice about calling Father Donald to the scene of an explosion that was probably set by someone in Management. It was too easy for anyone watching from afar to start to connect dots.
But Norman was tired of always having to weigh whether or not it was alright to be seen in public with anyone in particular. He just wanted everyone he loved to be alright and short of that he was going to need some support.
Father Donald was already waiting there when Norman arrived.
“The bookstore took the worst of it,” said the Father. “Tom and Esther are both still alive and relatively in one piece.”
“Relatively, what does that mean?” said Norman rushing past the Reverend to get to the ambulances still idling in the back. Father Donald lengthened his stride to keep up with him.
“They both got pretty banged up. Those towers of books became pretty heavy missiles, like literary shrapnel. Tom has a broken leg and a really nice concussion and Esther may have some internal damage. They’re about to take them both over to Doctor’s Hospital.”
“You’re sure of that?” asked Norman. Father Donald knew what he was really asking.
“Yes, I checked. Those are Circle people in the ambulance with them. I made sure of it. Louie’s riding along with Esther and he’ll make sure nothing bad happens. He’s agreed to wait until they’re safely in a room.”
Norman worked his way through the small clot of people standing around near the back of what had been the bookstore. Two large fire trucks and two ambulances were forming a semi-circle around the back of the store near a gaping hole where there should have been white clapboard and a back door. The overgrown grass was singed in places and matted down from all of the water the fire company was still pumping onto the smoldering embers.
Books were strewn everywhere mixed in with jagged pieces of wood painted white. Several of the neighbors were quickly picking up the remains of Esther and Herman’s inventory and carefully putting them in a pile off to the side before more boots could trample across them. Esther was well thought of by almost everyone.
Norman stopped at the first ambulance and glanced inside. He saw Esther lying prone on the gurney and wondered for a moment if her status had changed.
“Esther?” he gently called out.
Esther lifted her head for a moment and her eyes slowly opened. He immediately regretted making her work so hard to make him feel better.
“Norman, is that you? Have you seen your brother yet? It’s okay, it was only the remainders.” Her voice sounded raspy as she tried to make a little joke to ease Norman’s worry. She knew him better in some ways than Max did and always easily saw through all of his calculations.
“Esther,” he said, climbing into the ambulance, “did you see anyone? Do you know what happened? Hi, Louie,” said Norman, nodding at the large, blonde, muscular EMT who was sitting on the other side of the gurney.
“Norman, she’s been given a sedative for the pain. She’s not going to be able to tell you much. Go check on Tom,” said Louie.
“Come on, Norman,” said Father Donald, who was leaning into the back and grabbed hold of Norman’s hand. “Right this way.”
Tom was in the second ambulance and was sitting up. His eyebrows were singed and his leg was immobilized in a large blue splint but he looked alert.
“Can you give us a moment?” asked Father Donald to the paramedic sitting in back. “Sure,” he said, “but only a minute. We need to roll,” as he slipped out the back to stand guard by the door. The Father had known him since he was a small boy helping out as an altar boy on Sundays.
Father Donald crawled into the ambulance and sat across from Norman.
“What, no rabbi? Why is there never a rabbi?”
“Because you’re not dying, just yet,” said Father Donald. “Good to see you again. It’s been too long.”
“Hello, little brother,” he said. “Sorry about the voice, my throat is sore. The paramedics said that’s from the blowback and the smoke. I was lying near the middle of it for a while.”
Norman was trembling as he took his brother’s hand and tried not to squeeze too hard.
“Hey, little brother, it’s not that bad. We’re all still here. Remember what Dad used to say? That’s our bottom line. If everyone’s alive and has their parts then no fussing around about it. Today’s a good day,” said Tom.
“What about your leg?” said Norman, swallowing hard.
“It’s seen better days but it was a pretty clean break.”
“You see anything?” asked Norman. “You know who did this? Or even better, do you know why?” He was thinking about what he had seen on the drive, the hidden metadata Ned had called it. He wanted to tell Tom what was found but not till he was off the painkillers and wouldn’t accidentally mumble anything. One word of the information they had mistakenly gotten their hands on would surely get them all killed.
“No, I smelled something, though. Road flares.” Tom gave a crooked smile. “My nose wins the day again even if I didn’t have enough sense to run in the other direction. I actually thought I could pull a Batman and throw the things clear in time. I knew the bomb had to be a slow-burner and thought there might be another minute to go.”
“Your nose must be a little off,” said Norman, relieved his older brother was here next to him. “Did anyone call Harry yet?”
“No, my phone took a direct hit from a Grisham first edition. I haven’t been able to get it to work.”
Norman leaned in as if he was going to kiss the top of his brother’s head and quickly whispered, “We have to talk and soon. I found something,” before kissing the top of his head.
Tom gave him a long look and turned toward the minister. “Good night everyone, I could use a little rest now. Father, please watch over my brother and his family here.” He shut his eyes for a moment and then opened them again, “Norman, don’t let them keep me overnight. Just come get me in a few hours. Make them let me go. I can rest just as easily at your palace as in some hospital room, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll be there.”
Louie leaned into the ambulance. “Just thought you would all want to know. They found a thin fire trail up to the blast point. Looks like someone made a line with toner up to a pile of road flares.”
“You mean like copier toner?” asked Father Donald.
“That’s right, very combustible when mixed with oxygen. Might have been from that old relic Esther still used in the back. Makes a nice explosion. Clever but very simple stuff. Picture an old western movie and a trail of gunpowder leading to the dynamite.”
“Thanks, Louie,” said Norman.
“Any time,” he said, walking away.
“Come on, let’s let them do their work,” said Father Donald. “Time to go.”
“Mazel Tov,” said Tom.
Norman stepped back out of the van and waited by the ambulances till they began to drive away. He turned to watch them pull out onto the road and saw Richard Bach lurking on the other side of the street. Richard raised his arm and waved frantically back and forth at Norman.
“What do you suppose that means?” asked Norman.
“I don’t know,” said Father Donald. “I don’t know much of anything, though, these days.” He looked at Norman’s haggard expression and was worried about his old friend. “You headed home?”
Max sat across from Harriet in the living room that was rarely ever used. It was Harriet’s favorite room in her daughter’s house. Max was trying to make small talk. She was running out of topics. Ned was up in his room working on his War Hammer collection. Max had quietly asked him to stay off the computer and fixed him with a look she rarely handed out. He held her gaze for a moment without expression and then nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said, “I’m going to go paint.”
