Chapter 14

"Get the Hell out of Dodge."

"Thomas," Lester bellowed, "You are on lady patrol today."

"What? Yes, sir." One of the two Arturo offspring who had been working at Rangeman for months jumped to his feet.

"The ladies, Bomber and the Colonel, are going shopping at Quaker Bridge and across the street at Mercer Mall. They will probably eat lunch there, too. You are the driver and security."

Thomas had been dreading this assignment after hearing horror stories from other Rangemen. Any manner of disaster could occur if Stephanie was involved. The fact that he was also being assigned to guard Tank's fiancée didn't help. His father had cautioned him about the Colonel, never believing her being in the building was a coincidence. So far Thomas and his half-sibling Gerald had only noted the increasing relationship between Tank and the tall woman in the wheelchair. She rarely left the building except to go to the Newark VA. The only exceptions were when she met with Joyce Barnhardt or the one time she and Tank met clients in Newark. Gerald tracked her movements each time she left the building. At Rangeman, she was either in the gym or her room. He had searched her room repeatedly but found nothing. After the initial attempts at bugging her room, she found future devices and smashed them. Hector, the security man, checked her room several times a day. Somehow, Hector failed to find the bugging devices outside her room, or so they thought. Unfortunately, they had gained little insight into her activities.

Today, Gerald would bug their vehicle. Hopefully the women will talk about Manoso. Thomas offered to direct the conversations, but Gerald cautioned his brother to remain mute, remembering his position as driver/security not a confidant.

VC POV

As Thomas drove, Stephanie began her well-rehearsed role, "I'm glad you could get away and come with me. When I was working for my cousin Vinnie, Lula would shop with me."

I had my phone in hand and flashed the screen to Stephanie indicating there were listening devices on board. Stephanie nodded.

I continued, "Did Lula supply security on your trips?"

Stephanie laughed, "Hardly. She is as much a security nightmare as I am. Plus, she was a little trigger-happy."

I gasped, "Did she actually shoot someone?"

"She hit someone in the toe with a misfire, but generally it was all threats."

"I'm glad she's not with us today. I'm looking forward to a nice, quiet outing for a change. I think it is called age and the loss of hormones."

"Are you referring to estrogen?"

"No, adrenaline. I was an adrenaline junkie for too long," I said sighing and shaking my head.

"Is that a hormone?"

"Indeed, it is. It's also known as epinephrine. It is a neurotransmitter produced by the adrenal glands. My adrenals were bruised so maybe my paralysis and laziness has a reason. Speaking of laziness, without Bobby or Pierre watching my dinner plate, I'm looking forward to 'real' food. Is there any worthy food where we are going?"

Stephanie perked up. "I'm assuming you'll veto hotdogs and pretzels, but there is a Japanese fast food in the food court serving sushi."

I flashed back to the Mercer County Fair and my kidding Pierre about sushi. "Fast food sushi? I'd rather eat the hotdog. The preservatives may not be good for you, but they won't kill you immediately like food poisoning."

"If you are going to be picky, there's also a Tuscan restaurant."

"Probably American-Tuscan filled with pasta and cream sauces. Anything else?"

"Mercer Mall has a Bonefish and a Hooters."

Rolling my eyes I muttered, "Oh great, fish and tits."

Stephanie chuckled. "VC, what is the largest mall you've been in?"

"Which country? Malls are universal. Did you know the first 'shopping center' was Cherry Creek in Denver built in 1953? It was open air and is still going strong today, though vastly enlarged. The first enclosed mall was in 1956, the Southdale mall outside of Minneapolis." Extending my fingers I began counting off various malls, "I've been to Southdale's offspring, the Mall of America and the larger King of Prussia in Pennsylvania. Dubai is a shopper's paradise. The second largest mall in the world is the Dubai Mall, a mere 3.7 million square feet. For elegance, there is the Burjumani Center and Mall of the Emirates. It's best to have an unlimited black credit card for those two. If you want gold jewelry, those are the places to shop. The SM Mall in the Philippines isn't opulent but it is 4.7 million square feet. Unfortunately, with the advent of computer shopping, classic indoor malls are having a hard time of it."

"Wow, you know your malls. You must really like to shop," Steph exclaimed.

"I detest shopping."

Stephanie was flabbergasted, "You don't like to shop? I thought shopping was in our genes. Whenever I'm depressed, I shop. That is, if I have the money."

"Steph, one has to be consumer oriented. I've never have been. I stay with the basics mainly because I moved around too much. I didn't need stuff as I'd have to throw it away, give away or lug to the next assignment."

Stephanie looked at me like I was nuts. "What do you wear to parties and formal occasions?"

"First of all, I don't party. Any formal occasion was usually military and I'd wear the Army Mess Uniform."

She all but rolled her eyes. "What about civilian formal affairs?"

"I had an LBD with pearls."

Stephanie started laughing, "Little black dress, you so fit into Rangeman. We need to expand your wardrobe."

That was the key phrase to intensify our discussion, 'expand your wardrobe.' I huffed, "Stephanie, your body type is designed for shopping and clothes. You wear a normal size, your legs are the new modern length, and you look good in anything you wear. Look at me. I'm a freak. No mall store will fit me. Even with those so-called "tall people stores" a blouse barely reaches my belly button. A short dress allows my ass to show in the back and the pubis in the front. All pants are too short in the crotch giving me a wedgie."

Stephanie glanced at Thomas and winked at me. I needed to continue being graphic.

"Most stores have never heard of women's shoes above a ten. The only place I find shoes is a cross- dresser's store. That's quite an experience, going in and knowing the salesperson probably isn't female and has an unusual interest in your calf. It didn't help mine were always muscular."

"Yipes, did anyone want to suck your toe?"

Judging from Thomas' pink ears he wasn't the only one to know 'sucking toe' was a euphemism for a BJ. "Not when I said I am a 'natural female.' All I can find in typical mall stores are jewelry, underwear, and two-piece swimsuits that barely cover my nipples and pants that leave most of the ass crack showing."

"Then we'll have to make sure we stop at the lingerie store, just for Tank."

"Do you think they will carry his size?" I smiled.

We didn't give Thomas a chance to recover from the toe-sucking comment. Stephanie and I tried to be a bit too graphic when discussing undergarments. Thomas tried not to listen, but judging from the back of his ears, he was still blushing. The young man was uncomfortable with cup-less and pushup bras, garter belts and fishnet stockings, crotch-less underwear, and see-through negligees.

"Steph, is there a Fredericks store in the mall?"

"No. Why, you looking for edible underwear?

"Pierre isn't into sugar…ah, at least that type."

Stephanie giggled, "So what are you looking for at Fredericks: leather harness, chokers, and other bondage devices? We might have some in the storage rooms as Rangeman. Otherwise, we might have to go to Spencer's for those items."

I wasn't sure what a Spencer's was but carried on, "No, I remember seeing a woman in a bar with a vinyl skirt and bra. I asked her where she purchased it. She said Fredericks. You could wear vinyl on the distractions. Not only do men LOVE to touch it, but you could also wipe off any of their spilled liquids."

Thomas was sweating.

After endless stores with clothes and shoes for Stephanie, we zeroed in on the lingerie store with the sexy underwear on the mannequin in the front window. "Let's go see if they have any Naughty Knickers," she said enthusiastically.

Thomas was having flashbacks to our car discussions and wouldn't come near the store which was exactly our plan. I rolled up to the store entrance and glanced back at Thomas, "Are you coming in?"

With his bright red face he answered, "No, ma'am."

Stephanie knew to play up the sexual aspect of the visit to keep Thomas out in the mall gallery. She held up the smallest thong underwear. Thomas studied his shoes. She held up bras modeling them against her chest. Thomas admired the ceiling. I thought we'd lose Thomas when she held a red bustier up, wiggled her hips as if to ask "What do you think?" The bikini swimsuit with three tiny patches of cloth and long strings probably made him remember the nipple and ass crack comment because he backed up further into the gallery. I pushed myself behind a clothes rack and continued back to the dressing rooms. Stephanie needed to provide a long enough distraction for me to vanish.

-0-

Stephanie POV

When VC and Tank told me how VC needed time to escape the mall, I knew I'd need more time than I could waste inside the lingerie store. My good friend Mary Lou has a niece who frequents the mall with friends several days a week. Calls were made and mall gift cards arranged for a bit of distraction and rapid dispersion.

While VC was removed from the store's rear entrance, a group of high school kids who had been properly paid came down the mall loudly laughing. Suddenly one was pushed into Thomas spilling cola over his uniform. A big fuss was made about cleaning him up. When the ruckus was over, Thomas realized he had lost sight of VC and me. He rushed into the store forgetting his shyness, "Ms. Plum, are you here?"

I answered, "Yes, I'm getting dressed I'll be out in a minute."

"Miss Plum, is the Colonel with you?"

"No. The dressing room is too small for the two of us. She should be there in amongst the clothes racks. Don't you see her?"

Thomas ran around the racks before the sales lady spoke up, "If you are referring to the lady in the wheelchair, she went to a dressing room to try on a bra."

"Colonel, Colonel," Thomas called from the hall leading to the dressing rooms. He was going no further into the woman's store. Eventually I came out and went back to where I thought VC had gone, first checking every other dressing room. When I opened the door, I paused then called Thomas, "We've got a problem. You'd better come back and look."

Reluctantly he shuffled down the hall not glancing at the now open changing rooms. At the end room where VC had been he found the store bra, her blouse, wheelchair, and wristlet holding her cell phone and cards but not VC. Mall security was called, the Mercer County sheriff and, of course, Rangeman. I knew I had to carry the charade on a bit longer, "I should have been keeping an eye on her. Tank is going to kill me." The longer I carried on, the longer it took the police to get into the investigation.

Mall security replayed the video feed of the service hall and store's back door. Two men with a covered clothing rack come into the hall, went beyond the lingerie store, then back. Suddenly the video turned to fuzz. When it came back on, then men with the rack were leaving the building. Dressed in coveralls and with their pulled low they could not be identified. The rack was loaded onto the power hoist and into the van with no license plate. The men closed the van door, walked to the van front and drove away. The van's owner never knew his vehicle had been borrowed for the hour the kidnapping required. If the owner had noticed the van missing from its Trenton location, it would have taken additional time to tie it to the crime in Lawrenceville.

The scene at Quaker Bridge Mall was chaotic. Thomas, the store clerk and I were questioned endlessly first by the mall security and then by the sheriff. I was surprised Joe Morelli hadn't shown up but then the mall wasn't in Trenton. Pity, because the ranting Joe would have gone through would have added to the delay.

The teenagers who caused the ruckus were not identified and could not be found. Tank was trying to be mad at me. I'm sure glad it was a ruse because it felt real. I stuck to my story and even cried blaming myself for "dragging Vassi" to the mall. "Why can't I go shopping without a disaster?"

Turning to Thomas, Tank knew he needed to give VC more time to get away. "What the fuck were you doing the whole time, Thomas?"

The young man was afraid. He knew punishment would be meted out on the mats back at Rangeman if he survived long enough to get there. "Sir, I was outside the store."

The sheriff pointed to Thomas and me and said, "Let's go down to the store and you can show us exactly where everyone was."

Tank tagged along and when we were outside the store, he turned to Thomas as said, " Where were you standing, Fuck-up?"

Thomas indicated his general location.

"This gives you limited visibility into the store. At best, you see fifty square feet, less than a third of the open area. Tell me if I'm wrong, Fuck-Up: can you see the hall leading to the dressing rooms?"

Thomas could only shake his head no.

"When did Ms. Plum move to the dressing room?" the sheriff asked.

Thomas swallowed, "I don't know. I didn't see her."

"So you lost track of her in this open area?" Tank exploded.

"Yes, sir."

"And you lost track of a 6'2" woman in a wheelchair?"

"Yes, sir."

Tank shook his head, "I've always had reservations about hiring Air Force personnel. You aren't trained properly to find your way out of a latrine. When the police finish questioning you, report back to Rangeman immediately. We'll see about correcting your eyesight."

The sheriff tried to take back the investigation.

-0-

VC POV

After several vehicle changes, I arrived at the safe house wrapped with a blanket. The cold was penetrating as I only had a thin camisole and my trousers. No words were uttered or names were exchanged. Once at an out-of-the-way cabin, I was transferred to a lightweight wheelchair that had seen better days. As we entered the cabin's front door, one 'kidnapper' uttered an all-encompassing, "Colonel." I nodded, "Gentlemen." As I watched the men drive away, another man emerged from the back of the house. Without turning to see who was coming I said, "Nice place, Ranger."

"Colonel, ah, VC, compared to some places we've lived this is the Taj Mahal."

I snorted, "Believe it not, I've never been there. Are the bathrooms handicap accessible?"

He snorted his laugh. Then he became the consummate host, "I have fresh clothes and hot food for you."

"I'm going to have to stay in the clothes to get properly gamey, but would appreciate something more than this blanket and any hot food available. Steph and I never got to Hooters for lunch."

-0-

Ransom was the first thought, so General Christofondodoulous' communications were monitored. As he quietly listened to instructions from CID, the Army's investigative branch, DOD, and NSA, he realized he forgot to tell his daughter, "Get out of Dodge quietly." Then again, all this fuss would give the President and others a chance to begin the dismantling of El Falcon's empire. The General had long ago learned to quit underestimating his daughter.

"General, do you know what your daughter has been working on?" the CID investigator began.

"She is in rehab, she is not currently on duty," the concerned father answered.

"Does she know Carlos Manoso?"

"Of course. She rents an apartment from Rangeman in Trenton to be with Dr. Robert Brown, her rehab specialist."

"Mr. Manoso is missing."

"I understand there were killings in Newark and Trenton. Do you think he, too, has been killed? Or do you believe he is part of it? Captain Manoso was a highly decorated Army Ranger and is the major owner in Rangeman in four cities. He and his company have worked on numerous projects involving national security or high-ranking government officials. Does that sound like a murderer?"

"It is information we are getting from the FBI," the CID officer said.

The general stared at the CID man, "Why is the FBI involved in murders within New Jersey? Isn't that local or state jurisdiction? Do your own investigation. Don't listen to others."

"Sir?"

"Start your own investigation."

The CID major hesitated. He was not usually the one to run investigations. This was a non-com's job. And he needed the best. He needed Sergeant Major Perkins on this case, ASAP.

The E9, Sergeant Major Perkins stood 5'10", ruddy skin and close-cropped, strawberry blond, showing grey, hair, hazel eyes, and a well-muscled chest and arms. He could pass for any number of occupations including civilian blue collar jobs. He was ideal for undercover work. His accent was Brooklyn, Boston or Baton Rouge depending on the case. Actually, he was from Bremerton, Washington. Sergeant Major Perkins held two master degrees earned while in service.

"I take it the locals are assuming this is a ransom case," the SGM said softly.

"You don't?" the CID major asked.

"Not with her record. This has something to do with Spooksville," SGM Perkins' remarked using his own personal name for intelligence.

"Her father, the General, and friend of the President, indicated the FBI may be involved...but not on our side…on the other side."

"Do I need to talk to him?" Sergeant Major Perkins asked.

"I wouldn't. If she was investigating the FBI then he can't say anything more. He gave us our one clue. The FBI may be monitoring him as much as his calls."

"The place she's been receiving rehab, Rangeman, it is quite a security company. The staff is heavy in Benning and Little Creek graduates," referring to Ranger school and the East Coast SEAL training base.

The CID officer smiled, "Don't forget the MPs who work there as well."

"Is Rangeman some paramilitary security company?" Perkins asked.

The major shrugged, "Maybe or it may be an exit portal, giving them jobs as they ease back into their civilian world."

"I need to visit Trenton."

-0-

Tank and Stephanie kept up their charade. As the weeks went by, he became terse with her in front of the men, accusing her of incompetence in her work and in her life. She broke down easily. Lester and Bobby were read into the plan. Their parts were to ride Tank for "picking on poor Stephanie" always within earshot of Thomas and Gerald. When Tank gave orders on Rangeman business he did so with increasing volume and decreasing patience. This, in turn, kept the fission level at Rangeman high.

Periodically, Tank would let himself into VC's room, leaving the door open so others could see him. He was portraying the grieving fiancé. There wasn't much acting, he was deeply worried about her but knew Ranger would keep her safe.

Apparently, Gerald and Thomas were reporting back to Arturo the situation at Rangeman was precarious. Arturo figured now was the best time to stage an FBI invasion of Rangeman on the pretense of looking for Manoso. The ultimate plan was to get to the server in the basement. This, in turn, would get them to Martha in Miami.

Hector and VC had already dumped everything into an offsite auxiliary server that was completely sealed from the one on Haywood. As a result of the polonium incident years before, Rangeman had improved its ability and speed to switch to an auxiliary site and carry on business. VC added the barrier between the two sites. La Nube was Rangeman's own cloud.

The FBI stormed in and produced paperwork demanding access to the entire facility to look for Carlos Manoso. Tank had already contacted the Rangeman attorneys having them on standby for the expected invasion. Not surprisingly, the FBI head investigator demanded all command floor personnel as well as IT personnel report to the gym to be interviewed. It appeared as if Rangeman was unmanned and the FBI techies set to work. VC, Hector, and Silvio had spent many hours programming convoluted, dead-end files for the pseudo-Rangeman for the FBI to view.

It was into this chaos SGM Perkins strode. The FBI swarmed all over him. "Who the hell are you?" the FBI agent in charge demanded. When SGM Perkins stated his business was looking into the disappearance of an Army officer who was receiving treatment at Rangeman, the agent nearly growled. "That's not our concern. Get a warrant." SGM Perkins called his superiors.

Tank watched and smiled internally as his face held a scowl. He would put his money on the SGM for being able to put down the Hoover-idiot and not break a sweat and get the guy fired, all in less than thirty minutes. No way the DOD, Department of Defense, wanted FBI in Rangeman with Ranger's work. The Pentagon and FBI were arguing jurisdiction. Rangeman attorneys were demanding answers and were calling federal judges to get a restraining order to get the FBI out of the building. The disruption didn't last long. The FBI agent in charge's cell phone rang. Tank watched as the man's face quickly went brilliant red as he waved his arms around. In short, the FBI was ordered to leave the building. Tank checked his cell phone clock, thirty-seven minutes and the sergeant never got a chance to deck the agent. Pity.

Hector and his team immediately began checking over Rangeman for any new devices the FBI might have left behind. They found several dozen more listening devices and video devices. Some were removed immediately, others turned to blank walls or corners rendering them useless. Bink, a member of the team was crawling among the computer equipment in the server room when he quickly called Tank, "We have explosive devices in the server room."

Tank reached for the emergency button to evacuate the building but hesitated. Instead he texted, "Ram, Emergency E, server room, STAT!" He then texted everyone one in the building to leave quietly, taking vehicles as if it was a shift change. Anyone watching from outside might not understand an evacuation was underway. Surely he didn't want TPD or the FBI to know they were evacuating.

Ram, the Rangeman bomb expert arrived and looked at the devices, then chuckled. "Only a few are armed. Our guests had to leave before they got the job done. Bink deserves a bonus, these are well hidden."

"Can you disarm them?" Tank asked.

"Easily. I'll remove everything."

Once Ram had removed the devices totally from Rangeman, the building was rechecked and deemed "clean" remembering they still had a few of the earlier monitors in place. During the chaos no Rangeman information was compromised and best of all, no clients were ever in jeopardy as the backup crew commanded by Hal and Cal was manning the monitors at the auxiliary location.

Within the hour, Tank was summoned by Eric from the front lobby, "Sergeant Major Don Perkins, Army CID, to see you, sir."

"I'll be right down." Tank contacted Hector, "Background Sergeant Major Don Perkins, CID, let's make sure he had 2 parents and 4 grandparents."

Hector quickly replied, "The Colonel already checked him out."

"How?"

"She knew he'd be assigned the case."

Tank walked down the steps wondering how far Vassi was ahead of this investigation. Tank arrived to meet the CID investigator and was immediately impressed. Though pushing 40 years old, he was still in good shape, muscular, only the wrinkles around his eyes indicated he wasn't a young pup.

"Sergeant Major, I'm Tank Sherman. I'm sorry you had to walk in during the chaos."

"Mr. Sherman, I'm heading up the investigation into Colonel Christofondodoulous' disappearance. I didn't expect to find the FBI tearing the place apart."

Tank nodded, "Thank you for your quick call to Washington."

"I would have returned sooner but FBI agent Kelly and I had a discussion. I suspect he'll find his new assignment in North Dakota to be less stressful."

Tank was speechless. The Sergeant continued, "This wasn't Agent Kelly's first fuck-up. There's some question where he got his authority for coming here. He tends to go off on his own from time to time as if he works for someone else."

Tank smiled, "He just may."

The Sergeant looked confused for a moment but was quickly back on track, "I'd like to talk to you and your staff."

"They will be rather testy after the FBI intrusion."

"I understand, sir. Mr. Sherman, I'd like to cover some basics," and proceeded to ask only background questions. "I'd like to see her room."

Once they reached the 4th floor, Tank removed his phone and placed it on the hallway window ledge and raised his eyebrows and tipped his head indicating Perkins should do the same. Once inside the room, Tank relaxed, "This room is swept for video and listening devices three times a day. It is one of the few clean rooms in the building. We may speak freely here."

"Mr. Sherman, what the hell is going on?"

"Remember your comment about Agent Kelly? You are closer than you think. If there wasn't solid proof, it would be one heck of a fable." It took a while for Tank to cover everything.

Tank handed Perkins several flash drives, "All, or most of it is here. Vassi was sure you would be assigned to the case."

"How?"

Tank shook his head, "She's good and has more than a few trustworthy friends in D.C. Trust me, she has been working this for months and needed to disappear while the whole thing crumbles. We need to get back to our phones as no doubt someone is monitoring them."

The SGM looked skeptical.

"She showed us how conversations can be picked up through the microphones even when the phone isn't in use. Basically, if you carry a cell phone, someone with the right equipment and computer system can listen in."

"I've heard something about that, but thought it was an urban myth."

Tank grunted, "Believe it."

As they went back and got the phones Tank began, "As you saw, there's not much here. Since she's been transferred so often during her career, she has kept her personal items to a minimum." Tank knew Hector had her laptop hidden.

"The room is pretty Spartan," Perkins said.

Tank chuckled, "Exactly the term I used, asking if it refers to her Greek genes. Actually, she was born, raised and served in the Army. She hasn't had a chance, or salary, to develop a taste for excesses. Here she mostly she spends her days in the gym trying to regain use of her legs."

"Yes, I was told she was injured in the Middle East. How is her rehab going?"

"She is making progress, praise God, modern science, and her perseverance. She also spends time on our gun range keeping up her proficiency. She is respected by everyone here and her missing is causing great concern."

"Do you think Ms. Plum was involved?"

Since they were no longer in VC's room, Tank had to maintain the deception regarding Stephanie for the listening devices, "I thought Bomber's fuck-up days were over. Wherever she goes, chaos follows. There has to be a reason. It is more than bad karma."

"Mr. Manoso is missing too."

"Yeah, that's why the FBI just paid us a visit. I don't know what the hell is going on. He could be working on an FTA case or looking at new cities to expand." Tank paused to type something into his cell phone but did not send it. He turned his cell and showed SGM what he typed, "FBI left EDs behind. We disposed of them."

The SGM turned to stone and flashed a look at Tank indicating he wanted to see them.

Tank nodded assent.

SGM was back on role-playing mode, "Mr. Sherman, do you have many interstate Failures To Appear?"

"Usually bigger bonds are more likely to run, increasing the need to find them. Also, other security companies contact him to help bring in their worst missing person," Tank responded as he erased his phone message.

"Does he do this often?"

Tank mumbled, "It varies." Tank pointed to his phone as if to remind SGM Perkins about unauthorized listeners then tapped out a new message, "Black Ops." He showed it to the Sergeant Major who nodded. He was remembering, thinking about Rangeman's unusually well-trained employees.

"I assume you make enemies from the bounty hunting work," the SGM said just to make noise for any listening devices.

Tank grumbled, "Yeah, we've pissed off a lot of people who don't want to go to or back to jail."

"So the Colonel is strictly involved in her rehab?"

Tank shrugged, "Normally, she is in the gym or her room. She did come onto the command floor once to talk to Stephanie, but that was just one time. They socialize in the gym. I believe they are developing a friendship, or at least were."

"Does the Colonel leave the building?"

"In the months she's been here, most outings are to Newark for her treatments. Either Bobby, our doctor, or I take her. She has met with a local real estate woman to inquire about local homes. She and I are engaged and will probably move from this building. We have to drag her out just to get her into the sunshine for Vitamin D."

"The trip to the mall was for vitamins?" The Sergeant Major had a smile on his face.

Tank snorted, "Girls' Day Out. I imagine they shopped for women stuff and contraband food. Our mess here aligns with Special Forces menus. The ladies get a bit cranky unless they have a bit of contraband from time to time. Maybe, it's their female hormones."

Sergeant Major interviewed several other Rangemen including Lester, Bobby, Hal, and Hector. Of course, Hector stuck strictly to Spanish thinking he'd throw off the SGM. Perkins was fluent in Spanish. After interviewing Ram, actually viewing the ED's Ram removed from the Server Room, SGM Perkins returned to his office. He scanned the memory sticks for tracker information and then began going through Vassi's extensive research. At the very beginning of the files, was her note to him, "SGM, assume you are being monitored via listening and tracking devices, and mobile microphones. Your quarters have probably been compromised already or soon will be. Contact Hector Herrera at Rangeman to have your office and living quarters remotely checked frequently."

As he read through the information, he was flabbergasted which was pretty hard for a seasoned investigator. His job was to find the Colonel, but in reality, he realized she had to disappear and he now needed to carry the investigation forward. She had supplied contact information for those others helping with the investigation but, more importantly, those who needed to be avoided. The SGM paused with one of his contacts, POTUS. What the heck was he involved in?

SGM Perkins began assembling his force relying heavily on VC's suggestions. None were surprised to hear from him, they had received messages from her just the day before. Perhaps his biggest helpers were Hector and Silvio from Rangeman Miami. Both were trolling the Dark and Deep webs watching for tails. Several times they spotted them and alerted Perkins.

-0-

VC POV

Ranger and I were hiding in a remote cabin somewhere in Pennsylvania. Food and supplies were delivered once a week by different individuals driving different vehicles. There was no continuity. The property was monitored for 2-legged trespassers, but only four-pawed and hoofed passed through.

Our days were spent working out. He did a variety of things from cardio, weights and yoga and Tai Chi. I stayed with my rehab, often getting help from Ranger.

"You are surprisingly strong for a…" he hesitated.

I waited for him to put his foot in his mouth. "You are dead meat if you say 'woman' or 'paraplegic', so you'd better find a third term."

He laughed, "You and Tank are well suited. How many years has it been since the Philippines?"

"Thirteen."

"He's carried a torch for you all these years, literally. I don't know how many candles he has lighted for you in churches around the world."

"Do you believe in love at first sight, Carlos?" I asked.

"Yeah. It happened to me with Stephanie, but I've been an ass."

"Most men are."

He chuckled. "Why didn't you give up your career to find him?"

"Get the dinosaur droppings out of your brain, Manoso. Why did you expect me to drop my career to find him? Don't tell me you are another troglodyte who believes all women are destined to be wives and mothers instead of having a career?

"To answer your question, I was so far down the rabbit hole I assumed I'd die down there. My rabbit hole began at 13 in Egypt. I was kidnapped and physically and sexually abused for months. My rescuers were Mossad agents. The Israelis put me back together physically and mentally. But I could only function within a controlled environment. I made it through West Point and was doing well in the Army until Billabong. Suddenly, I was back down the hole. The Nicaraguan jungle hell both of us experienced took any last shred of sanity and humanity from me. If it hadn't been for Pierre pulling me into the helicopter and keeping me from bailing out 1,000 feet above the jungle canopy, I would not have held on long enough to be put back together again. When I regained my mind, I began keeping an eye on Pierre hoping someday to thank him for saving my life. But once again fate intervened. I find him in Alamogordo only to go off on a suicide mission. I had already agreed to sacrifice my life to keep nuclear devices from being brought into and detonated in Israel and set off a worldwide holocaust. Imagine my horror to come back alive but also paralyzed. Have you ever tried to use willpower to kill yourself? I had no access to a weapon or narcotics. Who pulled me back again? Pierre. It is as if God wants Pierre and me together but I keep messing things up. This time, I'm paying attention, if we get through this crisis.

"What about you, Carlos? Who or what will it take for you to find happiness? You, Pierre, and I have been given the chance. Are you going to take it?"

He was quiet for a while and then began. "Before meeting Stephanie, I wasn't sure my soul could be cleaned. Since meeting her, I've had the same dream. I'm dark searching for light. Stephanie brings me light either as a candle, flashlight or fire torch, but I'm afraid to take it. If I take it, she becomes dark, perhaps permanently, so I back away. I watch you and Tank knowing both of you have been in the same darkness, but you both seem to have found the light. Maybe you are creating it together. I want it…." He stares off into space.

"You are still under government contract. Of course you are afraid you'll leave her a widow or bring her into your troubles. Now that your contract is nearly up, you need to rethink your commitment. You pledged your life to our country, but it doesn't mean you HAVE to lose it. You've served your time, done your job. Each year you stay on, you become a liability, taking a spot someone younger, better trained should be in. Carpe Posterum, Carlos. Seize the future."

"There are some roadblocks in my immediate future."

"I'm trying to remove some. You and Stephanie will have to work on the others. I hope you two get it together faster than Tank and I. Thirteen years….." I said, shaking my head.

Carlos and I had our computers with untraceable connections and names thanks to Hector, Silvio, and my brother. I received untraceable email messages just as I had sent Tank messages before. They were no more than 10 characters. I smiled as I read the first one: POTUSrules. Apparently, the President had found enough trustworthy people in Washington to begin action.

A week later, another message arrived, this time from my friends in the Middle East: NewOwners. That one floored me. While I was still in Israel, we looked at the numerous Adelante holdings and discussed how ownership could be altered eliminating Arturo's heirs. If truly new owners were being created, it meant Aries' Adelante holdings were suddenly changing ownership through nefarious means. We had discussed the legality of such moves. Older holdings, hopefully those not recently reviewed, would be the first targeted. Contracts were stolen and replacements installed, nationalizing businesses, dissolving them for cash upon the death of Aries Pretturo and proceeds going to charity. Not every business was being vandalized but enough so Adelante would cease to exist. Fifty years of planning was being quickly and efficiently dismantled.

"Colonel, you are smiling," Ranger said as he set down a cup of coffee.

"I seriously wonder how much will reach the media."

"Not much. Arturo spent years keeping everything undercover. He managed to maintain Aries as a second personality. Enough deception should last even when this ends. Let's hope there isn't a Deep Throat," Ranger said.

"I don't see Sergeant Major Perkins or Pierre taking on the role."

"More likely, it would be one of his sons or daughters."

"I suspect names will be released, questions raised for many years to come."

"And probably a movie made. I wonder if they will determine a purpose for THIS madness," Ranger said as he shook his head. We both have seen too much madness in the world. Maybe this time we'll understand why."

"Who gets to portray Carlos Manoso? Maybe Tom Cruise?" I asked with a smile.

He snarled back, "Wrong age, wrong color, wrong accent, and wrong height. A better question is who would portray you?"

"There isn't a woman alive who could portray me," I said seriously.

He sat for a moment, "You are right. I'm still not sure what you are, but I'm glad you are on our side."

I didn't know if it was Silvio, my brother, George, or someone in another country sending me the news, but a week later, a third message made me smile again and yet I was also fearful: bankheist. El Falcon's/Arturo's/Aries' Adelante's money was gone or rapidly disappearing. The national business news only briefing mentioned trading in certain stocks and world commodities was suspended. The gold and silver markets were also unstable for a few days for unknown reasons. I wished I could watch Gregory Simpson panic. No doubt he was trying to figure out how funds were gone, wondering how someone gained access. Would he ever realize it was his own greed that left the proverbial backdoor open and allowing others to undermine the empire?

My hope was that Ariel and the other forensic accountants dispersed the money so widely it would never be found and used for evil purposes.