Far Cry 5: The Collapse
Chapter 8: Revelations and Revelators
The smell of stake and burgers roused Roger from his deep slumber. He looked for his clothes and found that someone most likely Mary May had washed and folded them neatly at the end of the bed.
'I really do need to thank her for doing that.' Roger thought as he finished dressing and donning his armor.
Meanwhile downstairs it was just after lunchtime for the Resistance fighters. Marcus, Jessica, and the Pastor were at the map covering one of the booth tables moving more of the miniatures around and trying as always to read both John's and the greater cults moves based on of the reports from their scouts.
The odd thing was the lack of reaction from across the rivers. It was if the other Heralds weren't actively moving to support John even as he was driven back. It was something that was driving Marcus mad.
Grace was chatting with Mary May as she waited for Roger to recover from his late night blitzkrieg to the Seed Ranch. Elsewhere in the room the men who normally worked for Marcus in his shop sat around making explosive charges in preparation for whatever the 'Revelator' that John was planning on unleashing was.
It was to this scene that a older heavy set man wearing large dark lens aviator sunglasses entered the bar.
Boomer was sitting near the door acting as something of a bouncer and door guard. The gun dog took only a quick sniff in the direction of the man who walked in and began barking and growling.
"Boomer, calm down boy." Mary May chastised the normally mellow dog. Boomer stopped barking but quickly rushed to the end of the bar and physically placed himself so as to block anyone that might try to get behind the bar.
Boomer barking and subsequent rushing around drew everyone's attention to the new man as he approached where Mary May and Grace sat.
Marcus took one look at the man and yelled "Arm up!" as he drew his own sidearm. All around the bar his friends and employees drew their own guns.
Mary May was shocked first by Marcus's call to arms followed by Casey roaring out of his kitchen with his shotgun in hand.
"Well I guess you do remember me?" The mysterious man said seeming unfazed by having over a dozen guns pointed at him.
Mary May and Grace had their own guns drawn but were looking to Marcus for some direction. Jerome looked on dumbfounded by the sudden change in atmosphere and Jessica grabbed her own RPK and leveled it at the man before breaking the silence.
"Marcus who's this guy and why are we preparing to shoot him?" Jessica asked slowly.
The mystery man answered first. "Finally someone who remembers some decent American hospitality. I am..."
"Agent Willis motherfucking Huntley." A voice said from a top the stairs. Everyone looked as Roger in now in full dress with Barrett in hand and shouldered slowly stepped down the stairs his heavy boots echoing in the silence of the bar.
Willis smiled. "Deputy Rook thank you for saving me the trouble for asking about your whereabouts. Your country needs you..."
"Bullshit! Even you aren't so stupid to notice the breakdown in local law and order. Also do you really think that I would take any sort of mission from a snake like you without the ability to double check it pass my superiors?" Roger said as he settled his sights on the mans head.
"Now now Black Reaper no need to get bent out of shape. I come with a solution to your cult problem and in return I just need you to do some work for me. You scratch my back and scratch yours and the interests of Lady Liberty are advanced." Willis said coolly with a smile.
Roger didn't react at first as he thought about just how this bastard was playing him.
"Everyone out of the bar now!" Roger said finally.
Casey waved for Mary May to come out from behind the bar with Boomer glued to her side and also grabbed Grace on the way out.
Marcus turned to his wife and whispered something to her and she lowered her own gun and grabbed Jerome by the shoulder and lead him out of the bar just as Casey came back in.
"I wasn't kidding when I said everyone." Roger said angrily glancing around at his father's men.
"You will not follow that order." Marcus said as he made it clear to everyone in the room that he was still in charge when it came to somethings.
Willis slowly stepped back and took up a stool at the bar and looked at the scene unfolding before him.
"Still barking after all these years eh Marcus? Thought civilian life would have finally mellowed you out." he looked around and settled his sights on Casey who stood guard at the door. "And I seem to remember that you were stuck in Bolivia."
Casey just glared back. "Yeah for a little bit... no thanks to you."
Roger now was confused. He knew Casey was ex military but he never asked and the old Cook never offered up such information.
"Dad... how do you know this guy?" Roger asked.
Marcus sighed slightly. This wasn't the way he wanted things to turn out.
"I'll tell you later." Marcus finally replied.
"We can save the history lesson for later but right now you need my help and you guys standing here with your dicks out, pardon my French isn't helping your situation." Willis said confidently.
Roger lowered his gun followed by his father and everyone else doing the same.
"Ok Willis, what kind of shit show mess do you need me to clean up for you now?" Roger asked.
Willis scoffed "Come now Deputy. Don't be so negative. I just need you to go and recover a old VHS tape and bring it to me. After which I use my phone here." He waved a smart phone for everyone in the room to see. "To call for outside help and poof your cult problem is solved and you can all go back to your old lives. You are getting quite the deal here."
Marcus asked what was already on Rogers mind. "What is on the tape that was so important for you to come all the way out here?"
Willis laughed which threw off everyone in the room. "What you should be asking is what is so important that I was called by the big man himself in the middle of my vacation touring each state of our glorious nation in order of ascending patriotism to retrieve this tape? God damn just saying that is getting me semi erect. Pardon my French."
"You didn't say what is on the tape Willis. Don't try to deflect us, we're not the usual civilian pawns you usually suck in to do your dirty work." Roger said.
Willis's smile finally became somewhat strained. "Hey now that SoCal douchebag and that Ajay guy still got what they wanted in the end. I held up my end of the deal in both cases."
It was Rogers turn to scoff. "Right 'from a certain point of view' meanwhile in your wake you leave such a big mess that the agency has to send me in to either finish the job you were supposed to do or to outright clean up the wreckage. Now what is on the tape?"
"I don't know." Willis replied.
"'I don't know.' isn't a great way of convincing us to help you." Marcus said.
"Yet you don't have any choice in this matter. Do you? I know that there are no lines of communication outside of this valley that remain in working order. Your friends outside know that I am from the government and yet in your time of greatest need you turn away help when its offered for such a low price. How will you explain to them that you turned your best chance of letting the outside world know that you need help. I don't need to convince you of anything I just need you to do as you are told." Willis said in a condescending tone.
The following silence weighed heavily on the Resistance fighters before Willis pulled out his smart phone. He played with it a second and showed it to the gathered men.
"See this phone number that's highlighted? That's the number for the big guy himself, the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency. Everyone in this room knows how fast things can happen when the big wigs in Langley want them to happen fast and the bigger the wig involved the faster things can move. All I have to do is dial... when I have the tape I was ordered to retrieve. So what will it be gentleman? Will you be the type of patriot that just holds their hand over their heart at the ballgame or will you take up arms for bettering your country's interests and forwarding the cause of Lady Liberty?"
Roger growled in frustration. He didn't like being railroaded into situations, it was a basic facet of his personality. He decided when and how things around him happened and what outcome was best for his own agenda, even when he was helping others seemingly out of the goodness of his heart he knew that he was laying down potential groundwork should he need to ask someone for something or to get people to tell him what he wanted to know.
Willis had him by the balls and Willis knew it. If or rather when it got out that the Resistance leadership turned down a potential offer of assistance because of past bad blood it could break the rough organization they had managed to build. That would make it far easier for the cult to strike back and isolate each pocket of resistance.
"Ok asshole, where is this 'tape' you need?" Roger finally said.
Willis smiled and clapped his hands together. "I knew appealing to your inner American would get you to come around! I don't know exactly where it is however I do know where the foreign agent is currently. All you have to do is follow him back to his safe house, kill everyone in the area and locate the tape and then let me know when to come in for the pickup. I then hold up my part of the deal and call for help then I'm out of your hair. As simple as can be. Now my truck is outside, I'll take you to the last known location of the agent and we can get things started."
Willis swaggered out of the bar with a grim faced Deputy on his tail. Grace and the others that had been cast out of the bar looked at the two men as they exited. Grace made a move to follow but was stopped by Roger looking over his shoulder.
"Grace I got some solo work to do. Either rest up or do some recon and look for this 'Revelator' John has up his sleeve." Roger said coldly as he got into Huntley's F150.
The group of Resistance members only looked on as the truck drove off northward. The first person to move was Jessica as she marched back into the bar and found her husband talking with Casey in hushed tones until she came in.
"Marcus Aurelius Rook, you tell me what is going on and who is that asshole that our son just rode off with?" Jessica said venomously.
The other folks had entered the bar and looked on expectantly for a reason for the chaos. Marcus looked first at Casey and then at his gathered men. He knew that he would have to break some regulations in explaining what happened but he would do his best to leave out everything he could.
"That man who came in here is Agent Willis Huntley. CIA. All round snake. Burns through people like a minigun through ammo, always working any and every angle to his benefit no matter how many people's lives he has to crush to do so. He frames himself as a great patriot but its less about his loyalty to his nation and more as a reliable means of elevating both his stature and ego." Marcus said as he walked back to a booth and sat down heavily feeling the stress of the situation finally getting to him as he continued.
"I first met him back in my Army days back when he was just a small fish that happened to leave me high and dry in enemy territory, can't say where or who. But I was hardly the first or last, in fact all of us have met the man at various points in our military careers and he has shown up a few times when I have had to go out and troubleshoot my products. He is dangerous because of his brain and mouth but he was never much of a shooter hence why he likes to 'recruit' people usually by as we saw here finding desperate people and offering them exactly the solution they need then all too often taking advantage of them at a critical moment. He will usually deliver on what he said but lawyer his way out of anything more than the barest minimum that he promised on, that said he has outright pulled the rug out from under people before."
"I can attest to that." Casey commented.
Grace stepped up. "Ok so he is a spook. Still if he has some fancy way of calling for help we don't have much choice. Also if he is such a great patriot it would look bad on him if say a cult is taking away fellow American's rights. Right?"
Marcus buried his face in his hands but luckily for him Casey answered for him.
"Doesn't quite work that way at least not anymore. He has tenure not to mention if he thinks its in the national interest to advance himself which given his ego is likely, he will. He is in the late stages of his career as a spook and he will be looking to set himself up for the rest of his life, with those stakes he might be willing to bend his usual M.O.. Thus we are expendable or at least not worth helping once he gets what he wants."
"Sounds like all we can do is hope Roger is able to be more aware of who he is dealing then the other poor souls who have dealt with this man." Jerome finished.
Meanwhile at the top of the Lincoln Lookout Tower Rook stepped over a dead peggie who was missing his head. The tower had been occupied by a small force of peggies mostly hunters given the amount of processed deer around its base, it was the sort of thing that the Resistance would start tackling now that they held the majority of Holland Valley.
"Ok Huntley tower is cleared, mind your step though the stairs are covered in blood." Rook said as he looked over toward the rail yard that was visible from the lookout.
'I really wish I could be doing something useful like marching on the railyard right about now.' He thought grimly as he heard Willis huffing and puffing up the stairs and nearly slipping on the pools of blood he had warned about.
"Ok good the radio is still working." Willis said as he adjusted the radio and spoke into the microphone. "Attention comrade. The bed has been wet. I repeat the bed has been wet."
A slightly accented Russian voice warily replied. "Who is this? How did you get this frequency?"
'Russians? Oh... I think I see something here. Willis was in Russia not long ago with some of the 141 boys before wrecking Kyrat. I'll bet he manipulated the FSB or SVR into one of his schemes after helping them with their communist extremist problems. That would explain why he knew about this tape existing and the radio code.' Rook thought as he listened further.
"I don't have time to explain. But your bunker has been compromised, you need to move fast and secure the tape." Willis continued.
"Damn I'm at the Boyd house. The local Resistance destroyed the local cults air power last night so I will have to drive there. Hopefully I can get through any hard points they have since setup. I'll leave once I'm finished doing the cults work here, if I don't finish it my cover could be blown at this point." The Russian replied.
The line went silent as Willis turned to Rook. "Well isn't that just dandy. I was expecting him to have access to air transport so he would have a better chance of reaching his bunker alive. You really do have a habit of wrecking other peoples plans don't you Black Reaper?"
Rook glared back before he snarled. "Oh am I so very sorry for wrecking your latest Rube Goldberg plot by trying to free my fellow Americans from the genocidal oppression of a doomsday cult! Next time I'll send you a fucking email if that will make you feel better."
Willis rolled his eyes from behind his aviators and continued. "No matter you need to get to the Boyd's residence and tail our friend. There is a ATV downstairs that should do the trick, so get going Deputy."
It was Rook's turn to roll his eyes as he turned and descended the stairs being mindful of the blood. From where he was he could see Willis's truck which would be both a lot more stealthy and more comfortable for him to tail this Russian. Not to mention on their way up here he did see Willis's luggage in the back seat and luggage for a spy was almost always worth searching through.
'Ok Willis, now its time you start dancing to my tune.' He thought as quietly jogged down to the truck and found that the CIA man had so helpfully left the keys in the ignition. In a minute he drove back to the base of the watch tower and started racing down the mountainside towards the old Boyd residence.
Rooks radio crackled to life. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH MY TRUCK?!" Screeched Willis.
Rook chuckled both from Willis's reaction and the act of keeping the truck under control as he raced down the grassy side of the mountain. Soon he was in sight of the little white house and saw a man in cult dress loading some coolers into the back of a older Toyota Land Cruiser.
He came to a skidding stop behind a cluster of trees and watched the lone man finish loading his cargo before hopping in and starting to drive off. After waiting for about five seconds Rook hammered the gas and drove his own truck back on to the gravel road leading away from the house and towards the main gravel road that served all the homes and farmsteads up here in the mountains. Rook carefully hung back just far enough so he could keep an eye on the Russian while still being hidden by the dust cloud being kicked up by said Russian.
They drove in a round about manner choosing to come out at the same intersection Rook had when he and Grace found the Widowmaker at the Grain Silo but instead of turning back on to the paved road the Russian continued driving south on the gravel road that passed the Flatiron stockyards. They turned right and Rook could see a number of peggies and their vehicles at the Sawyer residence in the distance.
He started hanging back more and sure enough the Toyota pulled in among the other cult trucks.
Rook picked up his radio. "Willis I have tracked the Russian to his safe house. I am engaging now."
He didn't bother listening to Willis's rant about taking his truck as he back tracked and parked his truck just past the Woodson Pig farm so he was just in sight of the Sawyer residence. Rook took his HCAR in hand and hid in the shade of the nearby trees as the afternoon sun started to sink low in the sky.
He watched the Russian greet the other peggies about six in total in the front yard. Judging by the number of coolers scattered around these men where some of John's hunters which made sense given they would be more independent than any of the other peggies stationed at outposts. Their job also meant that these men weren't focused on security as he could clearly see leaning against the front of the house half a dozen paces away were their rifles and they had a radio blaring cult gospel music loud enough that you would be hard pressed to hear anything else nearby.
'Thank god for stupid cultists.' Rook thought as he watched the Russian start to calmly walk to the back of the property leaving the others back to their tasks of cleaning deer carcases and processing their meat.
Without any ceremony Rook approached the front yard using the Russian's Toyota as cover before he swung out and hosed the distracted and deafened peggies in a brief hail of .30 cal fire. A part of Rook looked at the massive piles of now tainted deer meat and only thought of the waste but right now he had bigger game to claim. He crouched low and slowly approached the backyard were he barely heard the loud metal on metal screech of a rusted bunker door being opened over the music.
Peeking around the corner confirmed as such as he got a good look at the Russian. He was pale skinned, lightly built but much fitter than normal, and had adopted the cults usual massive beard and long hair style but that only made him look closer to Rasputin then one of the other peggies. His tattoos also were a dead give away that he was not a local by any stretch of the imagination as they were clearly Russian prison tattoos with additional cult ones placed where they could fit.
Rook watched the man climb down into the backyard bunker and waited long enough that he should have reached the bottom before quietly approaching and entering the bunker himself.
As he reached the last few rungs of the ladder he drew his 1911 and aimed it at the distracted Russian who was busy packing various papers and personal items into a large rolling suitcase.
"Put your hands on top of your head and step back from the suitcase." Rook said in Russian.
To his mild surprise the man actually did as instructed without the usual fuss and dogma he had come to expect.
"Who are you? CIA? DHS?" The foreign agent asked in his native tongue.
"Former CIA. Retired. So imagine my surprise when someone from the agency asks me to tail you and recover the VHS tape you have and I assume kill you." Rook said.
The Russian slowly turned around and faced him.
"Do you know what is on the tape and what was offered if my country got the footage?" The agent said relaxing a bit now that he saw who was asking the questions.
"That is a question I would like answered. But let us clear the air here first. You are no cultist at least beyond what is required for your cover. I have at this time no reason to kill you and if you can enlighten me on what is going on I will let you come with me back to Fall's End under my protection." Rook said lowering but not holstering his gun.
The Russian thought about this briefly. His original plan at this point was to disappear into the woods to a cave had picked out until he could find some way of contacting his superiors and/or leaving the area once the cult was mopped up. He had long since had his fill of these 'people' and wasn't willing to die along side them. Taking the American's offer of protection would be safer and more comfortable for him and maybe he could have his own questions answered about the whole situation surrounding this tape.
"I would gladly take that offer if it means I can get away from this cult. As you noted I am no cultist and I don't feel like dying for their 'Father'. I am Dmitri Karpukhin SVR." Dmitri said with a smile and offered hand.
"Roger Rook CIA. Retired as I said however I get the feeling that might change soon. What is on this tape that I was sent to retrieve?" Rook said as he holstered his gun and shook the smaller mans hand.
Dmitri turned around and picked up a old VHS cassette tape from the suitcase and waved Rook over to a old TV/VCR/DVD combo set and inserted the tape.
The tape started playing showing a rather worn down looking hotel room with a young attractive Latina girl probably at most 16 sitting on a bed clearly waiting for something. The sound of the room door being unlocked and a figure stepping inside caught the girls attention as she shot up to met the newcomer, the girl at first was almost scared but that quickly changed to joy as she hugged a much older well dressed man.
"This is the part that I haven't been able to figure out. They are speaking Spanish which is a language I don't know, do you?" Dmitri asked as they watched on.
"Yes." Said Rook as he now listened and translated for both speakers.
"Uncle! How did you find me? After papa was killed I thought I had covered my tracks well enough." The girl asked.
"I still have some of my men in the area though you made it very hard to track you. I came to see that you are still alive and I want to promise you that I can get you out of here in the next month." The older man said as he wrapped his arm around the girl.
"I can't leave with you? I don't want to be a whore any more Uncle. I did this so I could have food and a roof over my head but so many..." She said as she started to breakdown in tears.
"Taki I know. I know and I wish I could take you away right now but I am here on official business even just getting here tonight required a lot of risks. If I left here with you tonight not only would I have both the White Hat cartel and Bloody Men cartels after us but the Communist rebels and the Bolivian government as well. We would be lucky to get to the airport before we got killed. In one month from tonight I will send a special man here to pick you and see you to America. You will know that it is the right man when you meet a giant American with massive muscles, he is one of my best men and will stop at nothing to get you home. Have you been practicing your English?" The old man asked.
The girl nodded then the man continued. "In one month exactly have everything packed up and ready to go for on that night my man will come and you will not stop moving until you are on my door step in America. After that I will handle getting your papers in order. I am so sorry that we couldn't get to your father before he was killed and you had to... resort to this." The man said gesturing to the room.
The girl Taki hugged her Uncle again burying her face into his chest. "No Uncle! Its not your fault! Right after papa told me that you would be arranging for us to come to America the rebels attacked the house. There was no time."
The old man bowed his head. "Still it isn't right for him to stick his neck out like he did and provide the information he did and not be able to follow through on my promise. That is why I am sending in my giant to rescue you, it will be super secret with no paper trails or politician's interfering. I swear on my soul you will be in America in one months time."
The man stood up to leave but the girl stopped him. "Uncle please don't leave! If you leave early the madam will think I did a poor job and make me pay for the lost money! She might even beat me if she thinks that I offended you. Please Uncle just sleep beside me tonight so it looks like I did my job."
The man shook his head and stripped out of his suit and carefully hung it up before getting under the covers of the bed with the girl.
Rook fast forwarded through the rest of the tape and saw exactly as he expected. Nothing happened between the two and the tape ended with the two of them leaving as if they had spent a otherwise pleasurable night together.
The time and date stamps were in Russian which confirmed that they were the ones who had recorded the footage.
"Dmitri you are the only one who has actually seen this footage correct?" Rook asked.
The Russian nodded. "We had a man pass through that hotel before this was shot and install the camera and recording equipment. Then once the meeting had been recorded I was sent to pick up everything and come straight here for hiding. I haven't been in contact with Moscow since then beyond letting them know I was still alive and active."
"You said your country was offered something in exchange for getting and protecting this footage. What was it?" Rook asked the gears in his head already spinning towards a possible answer.
"A back channel with the future director of the CIA. You know just as well as I do Mr. Rook how important such things are within our community from keeping incidents between our nations from escalating out of control without the need for the usual political maneuvering of our masters. Having such a high level back channel is something that has become difficult to establish after the fall of the Soviet Union and more so after your 9/11. This I assume is blackmail material even if nothing happened between these two people, then with the context of your translation assuming it is accurate... things are not as they seem." Dmirtri said as he too began to wonder at the ramifications of what he had learned here for his own countries agenda.
'Willis... you have finally fucked up so big that you can't hope to dig your way out now. All I have to do is bring it to light.' Rook thought excitedly.
"Well my Russian friend let us get you packed up quickly and back to town. This alone is a massive find. I hate to say it but I believe the man that your superiors had made a deal with has overplayed his hand this time and will not be able to deliver on his promise." Rook finally said standing up.
"One last question if I may. Who is the Uncle in this case?" Dmitri asked.
Rook's eyes met with the Russians own. "He is the current and very soon to be retiring Director of the CIA."
It wasn't long before Dmitri with luggage in hand emerged out of the bunker and Rook following suit hauling the TV back to Willis's truck.
"So tell me Mr. Rook..." Dmitri started before Rook cut him off.
"You can call me Roger, Dmitri." Rook said signaling for the man to continue.
"Roger then. How come you trusted me so quickly? You could have shot me at anytime either as cultist or as a foreign agent, yet you did not." The Russian asked inquisitively.
"It was your tattoos. When I got close enough to see them I noticed that you only have one tattoo from the cult, 'Pride' on your left collar bone from being worked over by John Seed. Otherwise all your other tattoos are of the typical Russian prison variety and the cult tattoos that you do have are actually henna tattoos self done if I might add. It proved to me that you are indeed a intelligence officer first and foremost and not a brainwashed cultist. As a intelligence officer you are not necessarily an enemy of me or my country and I have limited options right now so I have to let somethings slide. Also not once did you talk about 'The Father' which is highly out of character for any cultist." Rook explained.
"You are incredibly perceptive Roger. The CIA must have been sad to see such a man as yourself retire." Dmitri finished.
The rest of the trip to Fall's End was in silence as both men wrangled with the days findings. When they reached the Spread Eagle, Rook escorted the man inside clearly signaling to the guards looking on to not shoot.
Once inside the chaos really started. Mary May saw Dmitri first and drew her gun as Roger quickly put himself between her and him.
"Mary May put the gun down this guy is with me and I will explain everything." Roger said as his father and his men reached for their guns as well.
"Roger what in god's name are you doing now?" Marcus asked his son.
Rook smiled. "Problem solving. But first I need everyone's help to bring all of the baggage from the blue F150 out front and help me search through it.
Jessica bent a window blind down and saw the blue truck. "If that truck is there where is the asshole that originally came with it?"
Roger shrugged. "Don't know at the moment hence why we need to move fast. I want to search his bags for anything useful."
No one moved until Marcus waved for his men to follow him and haul in everything and spread it out on the various tables.
"Be thorough guys Willis probably has dozens of secret compartments in these bags." Marcus said as he opened one bag and pulled out a ruggedized laptop.
"Or Willis will be Willis and get sloppy with his field craft." He said as he dug further.
Soon between the twelve men digging through Willis's luggage they had unearthed various valuable external storage drives alongside the laptop, and most importantly a ultra high speed satellite up link.
By now Grace, Jessica, Pastor Jerome had joined them eying the newcomer with suspicion. Roger had setup the laptop and found it protected with just a simple four digit password: 1776. The desktop was awash with patriotic backgrounds and the normal Windows start up music was replaced with the full length national anthem. The laptop was everything Rook had hoped for and more. Willis had outlines of all of his operations including this one.
Willis had originally planned on getting a hold of the tape before contacting the Director and blackmailing him into recommending that he Agent Willis Huntley decades long servant of the US intelligence community be made the next director of the CIA complete with all the responsibility and more importantly the power that came with the post.
In Willis's eyes he couldn't fail. If the blackmailing succeeded then he would get the post. If it didn't and he released the tape to the public then the outgoing director is disgraced and in his place who better than the whistle blower who bravely did his patriotic duty to bring even the highest ranking man in the CIA down so that he could answer for his crimes. The first option was the clearly preferred option but the back up option while it had a greater margin of error still would paint Huntley in a very positive light and make it very hard to suggest anyone else.
It had been the culmination in decades of planning and maneuvering all foiled by asking for the help of a man that knew too much about Willis from the start. To make matters worse Willis had gone to great and ultimately destructive means to ensure that his blackmail material hidden with the Russian agent didn't get utilized until Willis came to collect once he knew that the director was surely going to be leaving.
The FBI ran a database that was fed into by dozens of branches of the government. This database was dedicated to tracking cult activity in the US, to this end Willis had played with the numbers being sent to the database making it list the Project at Eden's Gate just a minor 'mostly harmless' cult in the middle of nowhere Montana. It was so effective that the Russians had even willingly played along and planted their man in the cult for safe keeping thinking that the group was harmless.
Of course when Whitehorse called for the US Marshals and the damning videos of the cult went viral that was enough to drum up a Federal arrest warrant but when the Marshals went to asses what sort of force they should send to serve the warrant they checked that altered database. That set the stage to send a single Deputy Marshal along with some locals to serve the warrant, and of course the man they just so happened to send was Deputy Marshal Cameron Burke whose own pride and lust for fame served as the last nail needed to condemn the people of Hope County to their current situation.
The whole bar was dead silent once Rook explained what he had found on the computer and how it related to the tape.
"You mean... all of this... was just because some spy wanted a promotion?" Jerome struggled to say.
Rook shrugged. "Not intentionally. The cult going off the deep end and doing what it is currently doing wasn't expected. The idea was that the cult be left alone until Willis got his hands on the tape then he would correct the numbers in the FBI cult monitoring database which would trigger a series of actions that would lead to the entire cult being rounded up and arrested for their crimes, killed if they resisted, or otherwise break them apart thus covering Willis's tracks. Willis set the stage for something to happen and Marshal Burke was the errant spark that lit the whole thing on fire. If everything had worked as intended without his meddling the cult would have never grown to the size and power it did."
"So what do we do now?" Grace asked as the sound of a ATV roaring up to the bar could be heard.
"I make the second arrest of my law enforcement career and we throw the full weight of the law at him the moment we can. Even if it costs me my job it will be worth it to see this self proclaimed patriot get brought down by the justice system he so dearly claims to love."
Just then a clearly angry Willis burst into the bar with a micro Uzi in hand. "First you make off with my truck then you leave me hanging for hours trying to locate you."
Willis finally looked around at all of his baggage that remain opened and spread out cross various tables clothes and all. "Pardon my French but what the fuck Deputy? You know what? Fine, forget the bags! Where is the tape Deputy?"
Roger calmly got up from his seat at the booth at he had been working on Willis's computer and stood a few paces away from Willis. All around the two men guns were being drawn, even Dmitri had pulled out a AKS-74U out of his own suitcase.
"I have the tape Willis. In fact I have watched said tape twice now. And I find that I must now ask you a question... do you speak Spanish?" Rook said coolly watching Willis's gun to be brought up at any moment.
Willis looked on dumbfounded. "What the ever living fuck, pardon my French does that have anything to do with you giving me that tape?"
Rogers eyes narrowed as he asked again. "Do you Agent Willis Huntley speak the Spanish language?"
"No! I don't! Now where is the tape Rook?! Don't fuck with me on this! This is a matter of national security!" Willis finally said increasingly becoming unglued.
"You really should have learned Spanish Willis especially before you tried to use a recording like this tape you are after to blackmail the motherfucking Director of the CIA. Especially now that its clear that the tape is useless to you and now in your push to insure its security you set the stage for probably what will go down as the single largest insurrection since the Civil War." Rook said slowly.
Willis to his credit was able to pull himself somewhat back together before speaking. "Do you realize just how much time and effort I have spent getting to this point? Do you realize how much our beloved nation needs a man such as myself in the big seat? The agency has lost most of its bite and how long do you think it will be until one of our enemies takes advantage of that?"
"I can safely say you are greatly overestimating your enemies on that last point." Dmitri piped up.
"Shut up commie!" Willis roared back.
The Russian harrumphed and mocked. "Stupid capitalist pig." This drew a brief giggle from Jessica and Mary May.
Roger was unmoved by any of this and pressed on. "And do you realize how many innocent people have died because of your antics? Worse still it won't amount to anything. Your blackmail material shows a man just sleeping sleeping in the same bed as a girl in a country with a age of consent of only 14 and to make matters worse for you she is actually 16 so again legal even in his home state of Virginia.
Then there is the context of the meeting. The girl in the video is the directors niece given that his wife is Bolivian born and left a brother there, the girls father. Now that man provided information and support for several CIA operations in the country until things got too hot and he was in danger but the communist rebels struck first before a rescue op could be drawn up.
His daughter ran away and went to ground eventually resorting to becoming a prostitute to stay alive. Her uncle our director, heard about this and pulled hard on a lot of strings the agency had down there to track her down and then went personally there is confirm that she was who our informants said she was and to assure her that he would be sending someone to rescue her."
"Your point Deputy?" Willis said rolling his eyes.
"My point Willis is that even if you made that tape public it would be of questionable effectiveness in disgracing the director and of course anyone that listens to the audio would know exactly what his intentions were with the girl. If anything he would be framed as a hero by the common man seeing the lengths a family will go to help each other. At most you could say he used government assets for personal use but even then the intention was to draw up a formal and approved mission so that charge might get brushed off.
No laws were broken be they US or Bolivian so you have no legal purchase.
So you have a tape that the director is unlikely to be ashamed of to the point that he would recommend you for his position and a tape that is unlikely to paint yourself as the righteous whistle blower in order to make yourself more palatable to being chosen for his post by anyone else. You burned a lot of people to get here and even offered the Russians a back channel that you knew they would jump at to help maintain the current stability of the world. But all of that is for not." Rook finished having slowly closed the distance slightly between him and Willis.
"I'm not out of the game yet Rook. Do you think that I'm worried about a handful of country bumpkins dying to a two bit cult? I'm not. I worry about how the gears of the world as a whole are turning and make sure to put myself in the right place at the right time to make sure they turn in my country's favor and so what if I get a bit of compensation in return. We both know how the world really operates, we are the ones that get to look at the nightly news and laugh as they guess wrong time and again, we are the guards on top of the wall keeping our nations interests safe and moving forward!" Willis half growled.
"What kind of guard throws the people he is charged with protecting to the wolves? Especially when he has the tools to kill the wolves without such sacrifices?" Rook countered.
It was Willis's turn to scoff. "And how many 'innocent' people did you butcher for your country Rook?"
Roger didn't like that bit of info now being public but he wasn't going to back down now. "You mean the enemies of my nation? Thousands even tens of thousands but the number of my own countrymen that I killed because it was expedient to my goals? Zero. That is the difference between us Willis, I fight for my nation and value its peoples, its laws, and its culture. I do brutal things to maintain that but I know to only do them to my enemies and their people, something you have long since forgotten. Tell me how many times have you left a mess behind that only served to hurt our nations goals? Kyrat? The Rook Islands? Afghanistan? Iraq? Iran?"
"Bolivia, Columbia, Panama, Venezuela, Brazil?" Said Casey.
"Cuba, East Germany, Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, Palestine, Jordan, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan the first time around, and of course how many tours of the Soviet Union?" Said Marcus.
All around among Marcus's men they shook their heads knowingly. Each man there having had the displeasure of working along side Willis and only having the barest of luck to make it out alive.
Rook finished stepping towards Willis. "Face it Willis. You finally jumped over the candlestick too many times and got burned badly. What you have done is effectively treason to your nation and accessory to murder over thousands of times and those are only the crimes that come to mind right now let alone what the lawyers will probably dig up. You are under arrest."
Willis tried to raise the Uzi but found Rogers fist in his stomach and quickly was relieved of his weapon.
"You can't do this to me! America needs me in that seat for it own good!" Willis gasped as he was hauled up and slammed over on to the bar.
"America will adapt as it always has and it will be far stronger with a parasite like you removed from its system. Maybe the world as a whole will be better for it." Roger said as cuffed the man.
"Dad we need a proper holding cell that this fucker can't break out of." Roger asked.
Marcus nodded. "General store has a old bunker in its basement we can stick him there and only worry about having to feed him. He will have a bed, a TV, and a toilet. Just like prison."
Marcus waved a few of his men to drag the disgraced spy kicking and screaming into the coming night.
Roger sat back down when Mary May asked a question that had been on the minds of a few of the people gathered there. "So what happened to that girl on the tape? Was she rescued?"
Roger smiled. "Yes. Exactly one month later I came to that hotel room and disappeared into the night with her in tow. I then drove for 36 hours straight through Bolivia, Brazil, and into French Guiana where we caught a container ship to Cuba and then carried her and a watertight bag with what little she owned on my back and swam under cover of night into Guantanamo Bay and caught a plane from there to Langley, Virgina and drove her to her uncles door step. Just has the director said would happen. That was four... almost five years ago. She's been naturalized now and is in college studying business law. She is pushing for the legalization and regulation of prostitution based off of her experiences in her home land."
Roger sat down in his original booth and leaned back before finishing. "Its the sort of mission that I can honestly look back on a be completely proud of with no exceptions and I am pleased with the end results."
Casey commented before returning to his kitchen. "Got to admit that is a hard run to make alone let alone having to carry a scared teenager along for the ride. You got this old SEALs respect Roger as if you didn't have it before."
Grace was the next to approach. "So what are doing with the Russian that looks like a peggie?"
'Yeah that is something that can't be let go for much longer.' He thought.
Roger looked at Dmitri and smiled. "Well for starters we can get him a shave and a hair cut so he can look human again and a shirt to cover the henna tattoos until they wear off. Tell me Dmitri would you be willing to take up arms against the cult even if this isn't your homeland?"
Dmitri gave a wide smile back. "Of course! I have completed my mission more or less and got the tape into the proper American's hands and... in the name of goodwill between our nations I will assist you in fighting back against this cult not to mention it will do my conscience well."
Dmitri's smile had faded somewhat at the last line. No matter how far removed he tried to be from the cult he still had borne witness to many acts of barbarism performed by the faithful over the course of his time in the cult.
They group sat down to dinner as Roger and later Marcus both poured over the laptop and examined the satellite up link to be sure that it would indeed work. They had only just finished when everyone's radio went off.
"Something big is leaving the railyard! Its some kind of armored truck!" The line went dead ominously then another man got on. "The .50 cals aren't working! Get to cover! Get to cover goddamn it!"
Roger turned to his father. "Dad I need to get into the store basement and get Longinus!"
He then turned to Grace. "Grace get me a location on that rig and call Nick to get him in the air!"
The two Rooks ran to Marcus's truck and raced out of town to the family gun store. The store was shockingly enough left untouched as the Rooks entered and raced passed empty shelves and racks to the massive armored door that lead to the ramp descending into the basement levels.
Roger ignored the massive arrays of machine tools and half completed products and marched purposefully to the back of the shop where the "personal project" workbenches laid. Just as he had left it almost six years ago sat under a white cotton cloth 'Longinus'.
The story behind Longinus came from the Army requesting a new lightweight anti vehicle weapon that was cheaper to field than using any of the current anti-tank missile systems but more precise and efficient than a Mark 19 or Mark 47 40mm automatic grenade launchers to be mounted at check points that were seeing a rise of improvised armored vehicles in Iraq and Afghanistan.
To this end Roger made his first foray into the world of military contract design and production and built a modern day semi automatic anti tank rifle chambered for the same fearsome 30×173mm cartridge used by the famous GAU-8 Avenger cannon to which the equally famous A-10 Thunderbolt II 'Warthog' was built around.
At a production price that was slightly cheaper than the Mk 153 SMAW and far cheaper to shoot, the rifle was under going the endurance trials process and usual bureaucracy that came with any such endeavor. Tonight though the rifle would see its first combat use.
Roger hoisted the massive rifle over his shoulder as his father pushed a flatbed cart full of 30mm ammo and the five round drums for the rifle up the ramp and outside to the waiting pickup.
Rogers radio came to life as Grace brought him mixed news. "Major the truck was spotted just passing US Auto. Its a big rig with a lot of armor welded on to it. Heavy guns have no effect and its has a lot of machine guns mounted all over the trailer and a light mortar to boot. Nick was in the middle of changing the oil in his plane so we won't have air support for a while."
"Ok Grace I'll bet they are planing to follow the road and drive straight into the south end of Fall's End so I will set up there and let them come at me." Roger finished as he helped load ammo into the bed of his fathers truck.
"You do know we don't have any DU rounds right Roger?" Marcus asked.
Roger nodded. "I know we only got the training slugs. Still that has to be better than a .50 cal."
The ammo cans and magazines loaded Roger hopped into the bed as well with the rifle in hand. He had designed the eight foot long 120 lb rifle to be broken down into two parts for ease of transport but right now he didn't need to worry about the length or bulk of the rifle as his father drove like a bat out of hell back to town.
They returned to the Spread Eagle where Dmitri and Jerome were handing out C4 charges for use should the truck get pass Rogers best efforts.
Grace ran up to Roger as he started loading his drums.
"Roger what in gods name is this? You hunting dinosaurs somehow?" She asked as the sniper looked at the massive rifle.
Roger laughed. "Its my squirrel gun. But no this is 'Longinus' its a rifle I designed for the Army and even the Marine Corp took note. It hasn't be accepted yet but so far its very promising. I based the design off of a old 20mm Swiss Solothurn and changed it as needed to fire the same 30 mil round that the A-10 uses. You can break it down to two man portable loads being the barrel and receiver respectively so its 120 lb weight isn't quite as bad besides it was meant to live at check points so even that much portability wasn't needed. She's eight feet long and uses a lot of polymer parts where possible to keep the weight down, all in all its ye old anti-tank rifle. Exactly what we need to kill this so called 'Revelator'."
About two miles away to the south a pair of headlights could be seen turning around the bend near the Rye airfield.
"Roger that big truck just past our house, it looks like its heading straight for town!" Kim Rye called over the radio.
Now with magazines loaded he hauled the massive rifle into the middle of the street facing south, the closing sounds of the Revelator's horns echoing in the night. Rogers heart was racing as he deployed the bipod legs and rear monopod, even though he hadn't had any issues with the reliability of the gun and he felt confident in that the 30mm solid slugs would do the job he knew better than to challenge Murphy when it came to prototype guns. It was why it was him behind the trigger and no one else.
He slapped in a five round drum and turned the side ratcheting crank five times to pull the bolt back before unwinding the crank back to its storage position. Then he pushed the bolt release, sending it forward home stripping off the first round out of the drum. Gun loaded he looked down the iron sights.
'Memo to self: Find or build night vision scope durable enough to survive being consistently mounted on this thing.' He thought.
The truck had closed in on the town and now was clearly visible as the sound of cult gospel music blaring at full volume could be heard. In many ways the truck was the very embodiment of the cult: ugly, violent, unpleasantly loud, and an affront to common decency. All around Fall's End people took up positions to attack the war rig from all angles should it reach the town proper.
Everything got quiet or at least it seem to for Roger as he adjusted his sights for about a 1000 yards, flicked off the safety and squeezed the trigger. And the universe turned into a screaming mass of light and sound.
A ten foot long tongue of fire shot forward out of the barrel followed by thinner fingers of flame clawing out of the sides of the massive muzzle brake as the nearly one pound solid slug raced out of the barrel at over 3000 feet per second. The recoil shoved against Rogers shoulder as the rubber footed bipod and rear monopod struggled to absorb the forces, still the muzzle brake and the large soft rubber butt pad on the rifle stock did their job in keeping the rifle from being too much for the average grown man to handle. And Roger Rook was more than average. He could barely hear the deep hollow ringing sound made by the empty shell casing being violently ejected and hitting the ground as he lined up his follow up shot.
In the cab of the Revelator the young man who had been chosen through days of prayer and fasting from among The Chosen sent to the railyard to drive the massive war rig onward to victory in the name of God and 'The Father' only saw the briefest of flashes, before a massive impact hit the front of the truck and only the sound of the engine tearing itself apart could be heard. From below the transmission exploded as the first slug continued its journey sending high speed shrapnel up through the unarmored cab floor tearing the drivers right arm off and shredding the right side of his chest and face with ever more shrapnel.
Now half blinded and in massive pain as he tried to maintain some form of control over the still moving truck, he saw out of his remaining eye another brief flash come from the town and heartbeat later something ram through the base of the windshield racing through the sleeper berth and into the trailer.
Inside the trailer as this was happening men and boxes of ammo were tossed about with the sudden loss of acceleration and jerking of the rig side to side as the driver tried to regain control. Then the second 30mm round punched its way straight down the middle of the truck and as if by divine will struck the rack of readied 60mm mortar rounds. The impacted rounds exploded which then set off the other boxes of mortar rounds and various explosives The Chosen had brought along in case they found a purpose or were divinely inspired to make use of the blocks of plastic explosive as part of a last stand.
The entire trailer exploded violently sending armor plates and truck parts flying for nearly half a mile, local farmers would likely be finding parts of the Revelator for years to come as they plowed their fields. Back in Fall's End the Resistance members cheered at the fireball until the shock wave of the blast washed over them knocking a few people off their feet. Roger remained in the middle the road and casually tipped the brim of his black Stetson down to keep any dust from hitting him in the face as the wave passed over him.
He looked back up at the rapidly disappearing fireball and subsequent mushroom cloud and couldn't describe what he was feeling. Destroying the Revelator was important but this felt different than just killing some random peggie with one of his guns he owned, this was the first use with something he had designed and built with his own two hands from start to finish. The culmination of months of work and stressing over details before he had even sent the gun off to trials, it was something that at the time 1st Lieutenant Roger Rook could never have thought would happen when he finally formally submitted it for testing.
"Congratulations son, you have built something that worked." Marcus said catching Rogers attention as he turned away from the burning wreckage.
"Is this how Browning, Maxim, or Kalashnikov felt when their guns first worked?" Roger asked his father.
The older Rook shrugged and smiled. "Maybe. Probably in fact. I know that's how I felt when my first in house design worked as intended and as your mother can testify I have been addicted to that feeling of success ever since. Also now that you have done this you will always know that regardless of what the Army does as far as adoption goes, you will know that your gun worked and performed as intended regardless if it passes adoption." Marcus walked back towards the bar probably to tear further into Willis's laptop and files.
Rook cleared the gun and got up off the ground as Mary May approached. "God damn Roger, you and your big sticks. Thanks again for saving us if the way that thing exploded means anything the peggies were hauling a lot of hurt in that trailer." She hugged the giant man tightly before reluctantly pulling away and walking off like a child that nearly broke some dreaded rule.
'Oh boy there is the crashing of reality on my party.' Roger thought grimly. He knew enough that Mary May had a thing for him and him doing his job in such a impressive manner was probably only making him more desirable. But she was a good friend of Joey and the idea of 'stealing' her friends ex-boyfriend probably weighed heavily on the bartender.
'God just what do I do? Its not like Joey and I are a couple anymore... I mean I still care for her as a good friend...' Roger tried to reason out but even he wasn't buying that line anymore. He knew as inappropriate as it might be he still carried at least a candle for Joey Hudson and he didn't know what to do about it like he normally did about most things.
He cut off that line of thought and packed away for better or worse for a later time. Relationships were not his strong suit and the current insurrection only made his numbers oriented mind add in more X factors to gauging peoples reactions to things.
John Seed had just finished his dinner when his two 'Inquisitors' Nancy and Jacobs entered what passed as his private dining room within the bunker.
"Herald John, we have completed your task but we also bring bad news. The Revelator has been destroyed." Jacobs said nervously.
John leaned back in his plush dining chair and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he fought to control his own wrath.
'They are not at fault John. They are simply the messengers.' John could hear Joseph say in the depths of his mind.
A silence only broken by the soft ticking of a clock on the wall fell on the room as the underlings waited for their next order.
"God continues to test us and our resolve..." John started before clapping his hand in front of him and hauling himself up out of his comfortable chair. "But we will persevere as commanded by God and 'The Father'. So what information have you brought me?"
The two traitors relaxed slightly now that they knew that they wouldn't blamed for the failings of others.
Nancy handed the thinner of the two folders to her Herald. "These are the school records from Saint Isidore for Roger Rook along with what little I could find at the Sheriffs office."
Getting that last bit of information had been stressful in the extreme requiring Nancy to have to sneak in on foot in the dead of night and barely managing to avoid the numerous guards that now watched all the approaches to the town. For what little she got from Earl's office and the physical exertion it required out of the woman approaching 60, she could only hope that John would be merciful.
John now fell back into his former role as a lawyer as he scanned the documents before him.
'Model student, literal Eagle Scout, still holds numerous weightlifting records in the school, more gold medals for shooting than anyone else including the youngest President's Hundred ever awarded, scouted repeatedly for the Olympics in shooting sports and weightlifting, and was accepted into West Point military academy on recommendation from not just the Senator of Montana but also from... my god who isn't on this list? President Bush, the VP, Director of the CIA, multiple Generals.
No wonder 'Pride' was one of his sins that he mentioned.' John thought as he moved to the records that had come from the Sheriff's office.
'Only lists his education as Saint Isidore and West Point. No sign of any actual law enforcement training, previous occupation is just U.S Army Green Berets which again would explain his skills but surely there would be more details here? Length of service? Discharge papers? Its as if this record was filled out only as a general formality.'
John scowled.
"Nancy what can you say about Roger in the time that you knew him?" John asked as he beckoned the two inquisitors to sit and he resumed his own seat at the table.
"Not much sir. Rook was only probationary at the time and was serving as more of a armorer for the department then a active deputy. If he did go out it was with either the Sheriff or more often Hudson." Nancy stated.
John stroked his beard. "So he was... isolated for a lack of better word away from the other faithful deputies and only partnered up with the only two people that were staunchly against the work of 'The Father'. Is there anything about his family that isn't already common knowledge?"
Jacobs spoke up this time. "Not much Herald. They are a very old family in the area, generations of gunsmiths, well connected and very influential but they never went into politics for some reason. Marcus knew the Sheriff growing up and their friendship was solidified shortly after Marcus returned from Vietnam. Jessica Rook is a lawyer as you know and has been responsible for several of the mines in the Henbane River area and a few here in Holland Valley being able to open up. I do know that she is dangerously intelligent and stubborn."
John pinched his nose bridge again. "There is something here and I am missing it." he said tiredly.
"Sir I took the liberty of grabbing information on Joey Hudson, you will find it far more complete I think." Nancy said as she pushed a far thicker folder to John.
'Josephine Helena Hudson. No wonder she shortens it. Father was a Sheriff's deputy until he died on duty being hit by a out of control snowplow in 2004. Excellent student, earned a full scholarship to the University of Montana for Geosciences. Numerous shooting awards almost all in shotguns, with some rifle and pistol awards.' John continued as he looked at Joey's records from the Sheriff's office.
'Ah this is more like it! Bachelor's in Criminal Justice from the University of Montana. Odd change. Work history... Cabela's customer service representative, UoM Starbucks employee, and... dancer at the Iron Flag Pole gentleman's club.
So she did strip to get though college but why? Graduated top of her class then was immediately hired by the Hope County Sheriff's department and sent though the Montana Sheriff's deputy academy and then given six months of field training.
Clearly Mr. Rook missed that requirement. Later sent back to the University of Montana for a Bachelor's degree in computer forensics paid by the department with assistance from the state. Awarded 'Expert' Law Enforcement Marksmanship Qualification Bars in rifle and pistol and 'Distinguished Expert' in shotguns. Involved in over a dozen officer involved shootings including one that lead to to the death of Deputy Danny Wilson and one that lead to the destruction of a marked vehicle. You have been quite busy indeed Miss Hudson.'
John sat back and smiled. "This is excellent work Nancy."
Nancy perked up at the praise from her Herald. "Thank you sir! Oh did you see the pictures?"
John looked back through Hudson's folder and saw the pictures that he had originally missed. The first picture he picked up was a showed a young 10 year old Hudson on top of a first place podium labeled 'Best in Junior Shotgun 10-13 (12 gauge) Year of 2000', John noted however towards the edge of the photo was another podium that though at a poor angle he could still make out '500 yard Big Bore Champion of 2000' and on the first place position was a boy with a massive rifle that was slightly shorter than he was tall flanked by far older men in the second and third positions.
'Young Roger Rook.' John mused as he flipped to the next picture this one a copy from a the local newspaper. It showed a slightly older looking Joey beside a equally young though clearly much larger Roger along side a clearly uncomfortable and much younger Grace Armstrong who judging by her uniform must have just finished boot camp. The three of them were being held up as the best marksmen in their respective disciplines for 2002. The big smiles and relative closeness between the two shooters made it clear that they were very likely close friends.
The next photo was taken from the Sheriff's department archives marked December 27, 2004 at a winter funeral. It showed a younger, fitter Sheriff Whitehorse kneeling before Joey and what John believed to be her mother presenting the black dressed family an American flag after the death of her father.
'Oh look who is right at her side again. Roger Rook literally holding hands and supporting dear Hudson through this most trying time.' John thought as he eyed the mother as well.
"Nancy what do we know of Deputy Hudson's mother? Is there any chance we can get her in here maybe even get her to talk some sense into her daughter maybe?" John asked.
Nancy shook her head. "Not possible, Rebecca moved to Texas shortly after Joey returned from college and gave Joey the family home. That said she would be of little help. Her daughter is every bit as stubborn as she was which is why she was a county treasurer for so many years, nothing could get past her and in fact if she still lived here then she would have likely been more than happy to interfere with the Project's goals."
John smiled. "Now Nancy there is a path to atonement for everyone. We just have to find it and show it to whom ever is the person in question, this is true for Rebecca Hudson, Joey Hudson, and even Roger Rook though I would be the first to admit that finding his path is most vexing."
John thumbed through the next pictures all taken from the school archives. It showed the Sophomore Prom King and Queen as not surprising Roger and Joey. The next photo showed the same for the couples Junior and Senior year proms the only differences being how much bigger Roger had gotten since last year and how much more daring and revealing of a dress Joey picked out that year.
"Interesting find indeed. It would seem that Hudson was much much closer to Rook then I originally believed." John said
Nancy smiled. "I wasn't aware of their status either and while they did work together they kept it on the professional side of friendly. Do you have a plan for convincing Rook to hear The Father's words?"
John now grinned as he stroked his beard again. "Not quite but I do see a plan for at least getting more information from Deputy Hudson in tomorrows session... maybe even convince her to confess and atone for her many sins. Yes. YES! Nancy I also have another plan to do some damage to the Resistance but I need a special volunteer from the flock that you will choose."