Chapter XVIII: Captured Memory
The soft glow of the laptop screen pervades through the large and nicely furnished living room of Jordan Parkes' downtown apartment. She scrolls through Netflix while eating a bowl of chocolate, vanilla and caramel ice cream.
"C'mon Netflix you can't give me one suggestion that isn't dull, uninspired or Woke?" she says leaning back in her chair. Just than her phone goes off and without even checking the I.D., she answers "Parkes…"
"Hey partner, rough times huh?" says Aiden on the other end.
" You can say that again."
"So what did Agent Anal Garcia hand you?"
"Two weeks administrative leave pending evaluation, with pay."
"Same, but something's off about this whole thing. Garcia can definitely be a dick, but I've never seen him act like this."
"Well you said it yourself, I broke protocol, went over his head and stole his thunder. Higher ups tend to not like it when their subordinates outshine them." says Parkes as she pops another spoonful of ice cream.
"Yea I get that, but I can't help but think there's something more here. But anyway, how are you dealing with the whole Morales thing?"
"Look Josh, Marcos Morales was a sadistic mass murderer who killed well over two hundred people. I'm not loosing any sleep over that son of a bitch dying. It's just the way that he died. To think that he only spent a year and half in prison. It doesn't even begin to amount for justice for all those lives he stole."
"Understood, but hey, the bastard went out char broiled on a flaming bus that careened into a tree. You can bet he didn't go peacefully. I suppose that's gotta count for something."
Parkes smiles at this "Yea your right I guess. But I was just about to head to bed, maybe take in a few episodes of Desperate Housewives. Call you tomorrow?"
"I'll be waitin by the phone." says Aiden with a chuckle.
"Ok great, talk to you soon." says Parkes as she casually hangs up.
The young F.B.I. agent takes a sigh and heads up to her bedroom. She opens up her walk in closet and pulls out two large foot lockers and flips the lid open on one of them. Inside is an assortment binders, scrap books and folders. She opens up one of the top binders and the first thing to greet her stare is a large newspaper headline that reads 'AFTER 25 YEARS OF TERROR: PROPHET BOMBER FINALLY APPREHENDED' Parkes glides her hand across the page as her mind travels back…
March, 2019
The large briefing room held over thirty agents, some sat and others stood. There was an anxious feeling in the air as this meeting had been an emergency gathering called just hours before. There was a giant projection screen that was cast onto a white board at the front and just below stood Agent Jordan Parkes.
Chris Spicer, head Agent on the second Prophet Bomber Task Force stood up and addressed the room "Ok everyone, let's get this started. Agent Parkes here thinks she's made a breakthrough. The floor is all yours Agent." says Spicer as he gestured towards the young woman.
"Thank you Agent Spicer, now everyone here knows how tirelessly we've all been working on this. Taking very specific and key elements of this case and essentially working backwards. Over the course of twenty five years, this mad man has struck nearly forty targets in cities all across the continental United States. He has claimed nearly two hundred lives and has yet to answer for his crimes." said Parkes as she began a power point like presentation on the projection screen "The suspect's first known target was a small federal bank in Westridge California in the fall of Nineteen Ninety Four. He planted a mid sized pipe bomb that killed three people. Three days later, a letter containing a four line message was delivered to the Westridge Tribune. This was a pattern that repeated itself over the next twenty five years. Agent Aiden." said Parkes as she looked over to Joshua Aiden.
Aiden stood up and came over beside Parkes to address the room "The messages that were delivered to these media and news outlets would eventually be deciphered as various excerpts from the writings of one Michael Desmond Carr, a.k.a. The Westridge Bomber. As stated, Carr was a serial bomber and arsonist active from the years of Nineteen Seventy Two through to Nineteen Eighty Seven. In that fifteen year time span, Carr terrorized all of northern California and part of Oregon as well as Nevada and lower Washington Sate, claiming the lives of about thirty people. He was finally confronted and gunned down by police near his isolated cabin just south of his home town of Westridge, California, hence how the media would give him his name. When combing through his belongings, it was discovered that Carr had written over twenty in depth manifestos that all described how he fervently believed that his crimes were enacted to disrupt what he dubbed The Simulation. You see Michael Desmond Carr had concocted a feverish delusion in which mankind existed inside a digital illusion created by beings he called the Olden Creed."
"So somebody took lines out of Carr's manifestos in order to be a copycat?" asked another agent.
"Well it was much more complex than that. This new bomber seemed to painstakingly go through every line of Carr's writings in order to construct his messages, always delivered in a four line riddle. The first task force put it together that these riddles were formatted exactly like quatrains, stanzas most famously used by the philosopher known as Nostradamus. After the suspect would strike a target, he would deliver these quatrains to a news outlet as a riddle or a clue, pointing to where his next bombing would occur." said Aiden.
"After the press gotta hold of the Bureau's theory about the messages and in particular the name Nostradamus, they dubbed our guy The Prophet Bomber. A nice catchy little surname that sold a hell of a lot of papers." said Spicer.
"…and that leads us to present day. It was clear that the suspect revered Michael Desmond Carr, maybe even saw him as some kind of a messiah figure. His first ever known target was in Carr's hometown of Westridge after all. The Bureau has compiled every single one of the riddle messages and gone over them with a fine tooth comb, and our potential breakthrough has come as a double edged sword so to speak. Back in Nineteen Ninety Eight, four years into the Bomber's campaign, one of the quatrains was delivered to the Phoenix Daily Star three days after the suspect struck in the city, targeting a prominent law firm, the blast killing ten and injuring over a hundred. On the back of the message was a tiny hair follicle that went unnoticed for some twenty years, and we managed to get a complete DNA profile just recently. We ran it through the data base and didn't come up with a match. I'll turn it back to Agent Aiden." said Parkes.
"There was a general profile made of the suspect in the early days of the investigation. For our killer to have hit so many different cities all around the country, we figured he had to be a traveling man of sorts. Businessman, CEO or possibly military. Now the interesting thing about the latter assessment was that in every city hit by the Bomber, a military base of some kind was nearby and due to the intricacy of many of the explosive devices, our man had to be extremely proficient in demolitions. So we took a gamble and stuck with the military angle, specifically focusing on Officers, Enlisted and even civilian contractors who dealt with bombs, explosive ordinances and I.E.D.'s and came up with a list of over five thousand associated names that had ties to every military base in cities specifically targeted by the Bomber. Cross referring the names and dates, we narrowed the list down to about eight hundred people. The Bureau has tracked down all eight hundred of these men and women to obtain a DNA sample. With only ten of those names who have not voluntarily given up a sample. In addition to all this, both task forces have had several cryptographers analyze every single quatrain under a microscope to decipher their meanings…and sure enough in every single case the clues inside the message correspond to the next target that was bombed at a future date. For example, this message that was delivered to the Swift Headliner, a small broadcasting firm in Panama City three days after the Jefferson Arena was bombed, reads as follows
'A man that runs through darkened waters
Badgered, beaten and skated forever in blood
A worthless reflection of himself in refuse and mud
Through the mind, a sullen centrifuge'
"Nine weeks later, The Dark Waters Skating rink in Badger City, Iowa was targeted and bombed, killing seven people all under the age of twenty five. The Skating rink's main attraction was a center court named The Centrifuge. About thirty miles from the skating rink is located Doverfield Army Base. I'm sure you see the correlation." said Aiden.
"Incredible, and all these quatrains were constructed from different lines and words found all throughout Carr's twenty manifestos?" asked another agent.
"Correct, you see the level of sheer detail and dedication our killer has in elevating Carr." answered Aiden.
"Our Bomber last struck six months ago near Oklahoma City, where another quatrain was delivered. This quatrain…"
Looking at infinite space, a sea full of diamonds
A haven of hearts, souls and minds
Separating a rabble of sheep from a den full of lions
Look to the circle in the quarry full of wonders and signs
"Knowing what we do about the suspect, I ran this latest stanza through a special software. It's my personal belief that the next target will be the Diamond Bridge, located in Haversville, Virginia. Interestingly enough there's a coal mining operation not more than a mile down river from the Diamond Bridge called The Lion's Quarry…and you guessed it, Fort Monroe is one of Haversville's most prominent tourist attractions."
"What about the ten names that wouldn't submit a DNA sample?" asked an agent in the back.
Just than one of the technicians, a young blonde woman named Rose, dressed in the traditional lab coat, busted through the back doors "I'm sorry to interrupt everybody, but we have a match, it's Colonel Morales!"
"Rose you couldn't have timed that any better." said Parkes with a big smile "Well ladies and gentlemen, of those ten particular names was one Colonel Marcos Morales. An O-6 with the Army, he's an Intel Officer who specializes in weapons systems and yes, High Grade Demolitions. I personally interviewed the Colonel and he fit's the profile almost perfectly. When he refused to give up a sample, a few of our field agents got a hold of a used coffee cup. We submitted it through forensics and here we are."
Spicer shook his head with a wide grin "People, meet Colonel Marcos Morales, our Prophet Bomber. Good work everybody, I want Morales' last known location, where he's stationed now, the works. Let's finally bring this son of a bitch down." he said as the room came alive with everyone rushing out to get on task. Spicer looked at Aiden and Parkes "Damn good work Agents, let's catch us a bad guy!"
The motorcade that consisted of about twenty vehicles, filled with squad cars and a HUM-V leading the way. It raced through an out of the way suburban neighborhood approaching one specific house. In the lead car rode Agents Parkes, Aiden and Spicer.
"You really think his wife will know where to find him?" asked Spicer as he drove.
"We have to try, the Army says that Morales has been AWOL for a week. He must've gotten wind that we were closing in." answered Parkes.
"We should've kept the fucker under surveillance." said Spicer.
"We had to tread lightly, tip toe around Army Security Forces. Technically it was supposed to Homeland Security's call." said Aiden.
"Well the Army has no choice but to comply now, we've got all the evidence we need to make an arrest. Just gotta find this asshole." remarked Parkes when her cell phone goes off "Agent Parkes" she said tentatively.
"Hello Agent Parkes, I have reason to believe the F.B.I. is after me." said the voice on the other end.
"It's him…" said Parkes covering the phone's mouth piece "Yes Colonel we are. I would advise you not to make this any harder on yourself. The Bureau, Homeland Security and the Army have issued a nation wide manhunt. Whatever you think your doing, you won't get very far."
"This is how it's gonna go down Agent. It's me you want, so your gonna leave my family entirely out of this. No busting down the door of my house or hauling in my wife or my daughters in for questioning, they know nothing about all this. I'm sure the fallout will be more than enough for them to bare when and if you manage to catch me. That's rule number one."
"…and what's rule number two Colonel?"
"Well that's for you to decide Agent. You've managed to identify me and by the way, you might wanna tell your field guys to be a bit more conspicuous when roaming through a guy's trash, it's a dead giveaway. But anyway, I knew it was only a matter of time before I was found out and I'm sure The Feds have cracked my little calling card messages, so you probably know where I'm gonna strike next. But than again maybe you don't. I guess we'll find out won't we. See ya under the stars." said Marcos as the line goes dead.
Parkes looked over to Spicer "Pull over."
Spicer gave the signal for the rest motorcade to pull to the shoulder and slowly the entire operation came to a halt.
"We have to call this off." said Parkes as she exited the car.
"Look whatever that psycho said it's not gonna save him…" started to say Spicer.
"He wants us to leave the rest of his family out of it. If we don't he may strike at random. I say our best bet is to stick to Aiden's plan." said Parkes.
"Ok than, we'll order a swat team and bomb squad over to the Diamond Bridge and set up a perimeter of stakeout units." said Aiden enthusiastically.
As Aiden spoke a look of stark realization washed over Parkes' face as she went into deep thought "Wait a minute…under the stars, under the stars."
"What's wrong?" asked Spicer.
"It was something that Morales said, under the stars." she said looking directly into Spicer's eyes "I have a plan, your gonna have to go with my gut on this one."
As Spicer sat in the car with two other agents, he trained his binoculars on a lone figure that walked along the side railing of the crossing known as the Diamond Bridge. As he stayed within the scope of Spicer's eyes, the figure was dressed in a long overcoat and wore a serviceman's Army dress cap with the silver full bird Colonel's insignia.
"All units, target within sight, approach with caution." said Spicer.
A moment later three unmarked police units pulled onto the bridge and swiftly surrounded the man in the overcoat and Army hat. Spicer jumped out of the car, with his gun aimed directly at the man "Freeze Morales, Federal Agent!"
The man lowered his head and begins to weep as Spicer and the other agents moved in closer. As they approached, the man's cries became louder when Spicer realized the man in the coat and hat is not Marcos Morales "Get on the ground, put your hands on your head, now!"
Still crying the man complied "Please, you have to help me!"
"Who are you, where's Colonel Morales?" yelled Spicer.
"Please don't shoot. He ordered me to do this, said he would blow me up if I didn't do what he said." said the man through his tears.
Spicer got close enough and ripped the man's coat off to see that he was dressed in a full Army dress green uniform, his name plate reading 'Morales'. But even more horrifying, the man had what seemed to be an explosive device strapped to his chest and a digital timer that was rapidly counting down from five minutes "Holy shit, don't move." he turned around to address the other agents "Get the goddamned bomb squad in here now!"
The timer than flashed over red and the countdown went from five minutes to just five seconds "Oh God…" said Spicer as the numbers reached zero. But instead of an explosion, the digital readout displayed 'GOTCHA'. Spicer breathed a sigh of relief as he lowered his weapon and handcuffed the man.
As the sun started to fade over the horizon, Marcos Morales, dressed in a black hoodie, briskly made his way along side the walkway as the evening traffic started to kick up on the busy bridge. Over his shoulder swung a large sack and in his right hand was a small cylindrical object. As he stared out over the darkening river, his breath could be seen in the cold air. Crouching down, he unslung the bag from around his shoulder and placed it beside him. It was than that he felt the unmistakable signature of the barrel of a gun pressed firmly at the back of his head.
"Don't move one fucking muscle and drop whatever is in your right hand. Nod if you understand." said Parkes as she stood over Marcos with her weapon.
Marcos nodded and grinned "Well aren't you the clever one. Tell me Agent Parkes, how'd you figure it out?"
"It's what you said on the phone, under the stars. I figured you were too much of a compulsive narcissist to not deliver on your little quatrain prophecy, you just had to bomb some kind of a bridge tonight. But what if you decided, at the last second to throw us a fake out and substitute diamonds for a night under the stars. From that point it was a simple matter of going from the Diamond Bridge to Starlight Bridge just ten miles away."
"Like I said, clever as all hell." said Marcos slowly raising to his feet and turning to face Parkes.
"Don't try anything stupid Colonel or I will shoot you where you stand." said Parkes.
"I don't think you will Agent." he said raising his right hand to reveal the object he was holding "Be cause you see Agent Parkes, you don't know what this is wired to. Now this could be a remote detonator or I could have already set the detonation sequence on the device inside the bag. Life's full of hard choices ain't it? he said as his thumb slowly moved over the red button on the detonator.
"Don't do it Colonel." said Parkes, as her own finger tightened on the trigger.
"I could see it in your eyes when you first interviewed me. You got one hell of an instinct Agent. There was no fooling you. What exactly was it about me that gave it away?"
"It was in your eyes." said Parkes.
"You know, you really should've bright in some back up." he said chuckling to himself.
Suddenly a loud gunshot rang out from behind and a single bullet ripped through Marcos' right wrist with blood and bone exploding outward. The man screamed out in agony as his entire hand went limp, the small detonator dropping to the ground. Marcos fell back as Agent Aiden stood a few feet behind, his gun aimed and still smoking from the recently fired shot "She did motherfucker."
Wasting no time, Parkes ran up, kicked Marcos unconscious and retrieved the fallen detonator. A few seconds later a platoon of swat and bomb squad units descended on the scene.
Aiden smiled as he put his arms around his partner "You took one hell of a risk out there lady."
"So did you." she said as both of them shared a good laugh.
The ringing of her cell phone once again breaks Parkes out of her reminiscing and back into the present. With a contented smile she picks up "Hello?"
"Well there's a beautiful voice I haven't heard in a while." says the voice on the other end.
"Well if ain't Chris Spicer. I'll be damned if I wasn't just thinking about you."
"Should I be excited?" asks Spicer.
Parkes laughs "What's up stranger?"
"Listen, I was wondering if you had some time on your hands. I got something down at the city morgue you might be interested in seeing." says Spicer.
"What is it?" she asks.
"It's Morales, or what's left of him."