Chapter 100
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Sergeant Washington led the way into the room. His broad body shielded the Captain as effectively as body armor. Yan had traded his gray slacks and loafers for neatly pressed khakis and deck shoes. The Sergeant wore 501s and the biggest pair of Dr. Martens Jack had ever seen. The Sergeant did not take off his left glove. Lee made small talk as she led them into the sitting room.
“How is your physical therapy coming, Mr. McDonald?” Yan asked, accepting the cup of Prince of Wales tea from Lee with a smile and a nod.
Yan laced the tea with a packet of raw sugar and a good dollop of milk, in the English manner, stirring quietly with well-taught small turns of the spoon.
“Quite well, Captain Yan. And, I will have to insist, since you are in my home and this is a social visit, that you call me Jack.”
“Of course, Jack.”
“And, your physical therapy, Mr. White?”
“Mine is going very well also, and please, call me Bob.”
Yan said, “Please everyone, my first name is Alvin, and if you insist I call you by yours, then you must call me by mine.”
Captain Yan sat in silence and then observed, “Sometimes the simplest things, a walk up or down a hill in the snow, for example, can be what pushes a damaged joint beyond its limits. I understand, Alice, you are now a Mrs. Congratulations to you both. I’m sure in your case continuing your working relationship will make for a wonderful marriage. It is wonderful when skills are complimentary, don’t you think?”
Everyone sat forward, knowing Yan had come for his pound of flesh. As they sat forward so did his Sergeant. Washington seemed to balance on the balls of his feet in fighting stance, while still sitting comfortably in the oyster leather wing chair, which until today had looked oversized. Sergeant Washington sipped his mineral water, the hint of a gentle smile that was his usual expression still in place.
Captain Yan continued, “I apologize for dropping by without checking, but I was in the area. You know one of my hobbies is photography. I’m not in your league, Bob, but I do have fun. I had darkroom work near here and Sergeant Washington was kind enough to drive me. I thought I would drop off a few pictures, hoping you could all give me constructive input.”
Sergeant Washington reached inside his hunter-green Land’s End Squall Jacket with his gloved left hand and pulled out a brown manila envelope large enough to hold a good thickness of eight-and-one-half-by-eleven papers. He placed the envelope on top of the black steamer trunk Lee and Jack used as a coffee table. Bob, Alice, Lee and Jack leaned back. Jack’s Momma would have said, “The way you-all are trying to shy away from that thing, you’d think it was a snake.”
The Sergeant stood up a fraction of a second ahead of the Captain, who waved Lee back into her chair saying, “No need. The Sergeant and I can find our way out. Please look over the pictures at your leisure and let me know your thoughts.”
With that Yan bowed slightly to Lee and Alice, and shook hands all around. The Sergeant, who let him lead the way to the front door, somehow managed to follow Yan out the door without turning his back on the group.
Alice reached for the envelope. Bob stopped her. Jack pushed himself up out of the chair, movement easier every day now, and walked to the cleaning cabinet for nitrile gloves. He handed them around.
The papers in the packet were segregated into two sections. In the first were pictures and papers relating to the cabal’s battle with the Church of the Seven Sisters. Most of the pictures were in black and white. The first showed Dvora and Jack running out the back entrance of DealMaker headquarters. The time and date were marked in the upper left hand corner. Jack handed the picture to Lee who looked at it and handed it to Bob, who handed it to Alice. The next picture showed them blundering through the crowds in China Town. The one after that was a clear shot of Dvora and Jack taking the money drop, with the gun and other tools from Bob’s couriers.
The quality of the photos was good. Not as esthetically pleasing as Bob’s, but technically proficient. The fifth picture showed Dvora checking into the China Town hotel, the next Dvora leaving on her shopping expedition, the following her shopping, then coming back, arms laden with packages. It was a pictorial history of their flight. There were very few gaps. There were photos of Lee and Jack in their gay couple disguise. There was a telephoto shot of the two making their dash for the tree line in Tuolumne Meadows, but no photos of them on the trail at all.
There were photos of Bob and Alice on Bob’s land near Ukiah, Bob with his rifle and Alice with the spotting scope. There were two pictures of them poring over targets, as they looked down at Bob’s shot groups. Later in the series there were pictures of Bob plying his trade and telephotos of the resulting carnage in the compound of the Church of the Seven Sisters. Near the last were pictures of Alice, with Bob draped over her shoulder in a perfect fireman’s carry, Barrett M107A-1 held in the bag in her left hand balancing the load as she carried Bob, his knee gone, down the hip deep snow covering the mountain trail.
The Captain had included copies of hotel registrations, a transcript of a telephone call Dvora made to her sister that Jack hadn’t known about, and two calls from Lee to Uncle Chin and Sir Ian. There were copies of the autopsy report of the President of Genotopian and his rock-star wife showing no water in their lungs, other than seepage.
Jack sat back his chair, wishing for the chewing tobacco he’d used in the desert and given up so many years ago. The captain had them, jointly and severally, and with no wiggle room at all.
The second envelope contained telephoto shots of a number of different people, newspaper clippings, photocopies of financial records, and information on title for a number of real estate parcels around the state. He recognized some of the people in the photos. One was the state’s newest congressman. Another was a beautiful young actor from the Czech Republic, her eyes so captivating they were insured for $20 million. She had been spotted traveling with a fast crowd of Russian capitalists: “Mafia” in the US press.
Jack was bored with making money. Alvin Yan was asking him to do something he wanted to do anyway. He wanted to battle evil in hand-to-hand combat, not third party, through hired guns. He felt the pressure of time in a way he’d never felt before.
He looked up to see Alice and Bob and Lee waiting. Bob’s involvement cost him surgery and a murder charge hanging over his head. Alice’s the same charge, and if he had his way, Lee and he would be together for better or worse till death do them part. No regrets. They did what needed to be done and now they were being asked, in a roundabout, but very clear way, to do something similar again.
He looked within himself and found something he didn’t expect to find: excitement. He wanted to get back into the thick of it again, to put it all on the line for something bigger than he was.
“Bob, do you want me to show everyone our insurance now?”
“Yes, Jack, if you wouldn’t mind?”
Jack opened the file, clicked to move the picture on the wall out of the way so they could all see the big flat screen. The file was literally thousands of pages of documents, pictures, and hours of video and audio, records of GPS tracks of Yan’s and Washington’s movements, and satellite imagery. There were copies of DNA results that Yan had done through private labs, pictures of Yan paying informants in cash, copies of emails and so much more that organizing it took Bob’s team weeks of work.
Jack sped through the information and ended with the video of Yan and Washington’s recent visit. They had Yan for conspiracy, money laundering, evidence tampering and much more. He had them for conspiracy, what could be construed as terrorist acts, numerous violations of homeland security acts, perjurious statements made when deposed, and either murder or manslaughter, depending on how the trial went, and a hell of a lot more. None of anybody’s evidence, well maybe some of Yan’s, was admissible in court.
Jack said, “It looks like mutually assured destruction here. How many of us believe that Alvin knows we have this kind of file on him?”
Everyone raised hands.
“So at this point, Super Heroes for Justice, or whatever silly name you come up with the next time you are drunk, it’s time to decide. I propose that we agree to go along for now, as long as we are on the side of right. Do I hear a second?”
Alice, “I second.”
“Let’s vote.”
Jack leaned forward and reached out, his right hand in a fist, then turned a thumb up. Lee was first to follow, thumb up too, and then Alice, and last Bob, slowest to act but surest of all, turned his thumb up. Everyone laughed, surprised at the smiles on each other’s faces. One day soon they would have important work to do. Again.
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The End