Chapter 4

Rachel and Nigel got into Rachel's sporty little roadster and drove back towards the college. Nigel said nothing the whole time that Rachel was driving; he was just staring out the window. This was it….this was what he had been waiting for. Part of him hoped that the horrific story that Rachel was laying out before him wasn't true. Yet, a bigger part of him hoped it was absolutely true…and he would stop it.

"Why ice cream?" he finally said.

Rachel kept one hand on the steering wheel as she reached down to shift to the next gear. She glanced at him at of the corner of her eye

"I believe that ice cream men, at least in this area, are up to more than just frozen treats. In fact, I believe that it's nothing less than cover for what they are really trying to accomplish."

Nigel looked over at her over the rim of his dark shades.

"I believe," she continued without returning the favor, "That they are an undercover surveillance team, with possible military ties or experience, gathering intelligence on certain people. Think about it Nigel, there are some high profile people in this area of D.C. There are senators, lobbyists, C.E.O.'s, lawyers, and even higher profile people than that. An ice cream man could move in and out of these areas and conduct surveillance and gather information without even a second glance. Besides, it would give them access to these high profile people's children, which could be useful if they ever needed a bargaining chip."

"Evidence?" he asked.

"Always the logician," she said laughing, "Of course; there were two cases. One involving a fairly high profile city council member whose was gunned down with his own weapon in a home invasion attempt. Second, there was an accountant at a bank here in town whose house burned to the ground last year; different people, different deaths, and different times of the same year.

Nigel nodded skeptically, "Go on…"

"Well, the common thread is a fact that is known only to a few, observant journalists. There was a political hearing that was coming up in the latter part of the year of which both of those victims were scheduled to testify or, at least in the accountant's case, provide evidence; evidence which was probably burned in the fire and amongst the stolen goods which were never recovered…if they ever were stolen in the first place.

Nigel shook his head, "Wait, nobody reported this?"

Rachel shot a glance out of her eye, "It depends on who is doing the reporting. Don't think for one second that if there is something superficial going on that the media would have been left unaccounted for. It's an even lesser known fact that right before the assassinations, there were ice cream men, from this same group of ice cream men, who spent quite a bit of time in the area. Then, after this shooting and fire…they were never to be seen in that area again".

Nigel shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was skeptical when it came to coincidences, but this almost seemed like a fine line between reason and madness. There was a chill that ran down his spine when he considered how more often than not, there always seemed to be a thin veneer between the evil of the everyday event and the evil that drove it; the everyday madness and the inhuman savage that lie dormant in every human.

Nigel nodded slowly, "You've obviously given this quite a bit of thought; you think that this is a good place to start?"

Rachel nodded as she weaved in and out of traffic, "Yes, I've been watching and researching for the last several years now. That's my passion and my pastime, Nigel, I watch the news. I know, it's nerdy, but you would be amazed at how much interesting information that is available out there. We live in an age of such great communication the average kid with a cell phone can basically access the most valuable of secrets. In trying to uncover these masterminds, I've been following the breadcrumbs but I've recently hit a road block. I've also began be attacked, but that just within the last few months. It is as if the attacks get stronger if I try to dig deeper. I've had attempts to hack my files, delete my hard drive and viruses that have been put on my computer, so I must be getting close."

Nigel pulled his shades off to clean them on his red sweater. "And you think that the ice cream men are the next avenue; breadcrumbs indeed!"

"Well," Rachel said nonchalantly, "Breadcrumbs are all there has ever been and most likely all there ever will be but we need to follow them and see just how far the rabbit hole goes! I can analyze the breadcrumbs all I want but I feel we'll only really begin to make a difference if we start moving into broader field work. Right now, I'm the only one doing the work and no matter how good I get at it, I can't be in two places at once. I need boots on the ground that can react to all the information that I've been gathering, or else this is a waste of time. Plus, you're already wearing boots!"

Nigel was hit with a sudden realization, there was more to this girl than met the eye. "Who is "we"? I just now told you that I would be on board."

Rachel smiled coyly just as the car moved out of the shadows and into a sunny patch of road, making her face sparkle in the sun. "Actually, I've been working with a few different people on this; I'm trying to revive the old Kids Command of Defense and that is why I need you. You're a leader, Nigel; you're a fighter and a crusader and quite possibly the only person who can lead the rest of them. We'll rebuild everything in time, but I need someone to set the pace for the rest of the future operatives."

Nigel laughed, "I was made a leader, because I'm the son of a business manager. I didn't choose this path, I didn't even want it, and I don't see how I could achieve something like that."

Rachel took her eyes off the road just long enough to pierce Nigel's soul with them.

"I'm not asking you to do what you were made to do, I'm asking you to do what you were born to do." She said with a stony voice. "You're definitely a soldier and that's what we need you to be".

"Who else is involved?" Nigel asked, shrugging off the compliment with humility.

"Fanny, for one," Rachel said, "You know, the girl that works in the admin office. She and a few others, you'll have a chance to meet them once we are able to set up base. Right now we're just meeting in the old Sprinkle Puff Donut Shop near 7th Street. Fanny knows the owner and he is letting us rent it out as a "study hall"."

Rachel began to slow down as they turned down 7th Street. It was a small stretch of old school style shopping venues. The buildings stood shoulder to shoulder as people walked up and down the old brick sidewalks in front of the stores. Off to the side sat a small building that looked like a diner and on the front in large cartoon style letters spelled out the name of the derelict donut shop.

Rachel pulled the roadster into a small lean to garage that was attached to the back of the shop and got out of the car. Nigel followed suit while looking around the garage. There wasn't much in it, just some empty shelves and some home improvement material such as drywall material, paint, and some wood tools.

Rachel was standing at the entrance to the garage with her hands on her hips. "You coming?"

Nigel smiled and stuffed his hands into his sweater pockets as he starting walking towards her. They started walking away from 7th Street and started walking into the neighborhood amidst some old and large houses. There was certainly money in this part of town but it was also D.C., there was money everywhere. There were people who had made their money legitimately and certainly less than legitimate. They were located in an area on the other side of the Potomac River and away from the Washington Mall area. It was quieter in their part of the neighborhood and even quieter near the university which was even further away.

The faint jingle of an ice cream truck was heard in the distance.

"Personally," Rachel said, breaking the silence, "I think the ice cream men are in this area more because I've been spotted by them quite a bit in the other areas. I've slipped up a little bit trying to canvas all areas and learn their routes and I think they recognize me more and more these days. I think they are getting suspicious. Anyway, don't you think it's odd that they are still in full swing even though we're clearly headed into fall?"

Nigel nodded and kept looking around for the approaching ice cream truck.

"Plus, last year, I think I've seen the same ice cream men around for hire trying to hang Christmas lights and sell hot chocolate. How strange is that?"

Nigel stopped in the road, "I don't know Rachel that sounds pretty normal to me. I mean, if they can't make money with the ice cream, wouldn't it stand to reason that they would attempt to make money in some other way?"

Rachel stopped and faced him, "Or to ensure that they can stay in the same area. They're constantly in the same neighborhoods day in and day out with these methods. I first started to suspect them when I noticed a string of perfectly executed robberies, robberies that baffled the cops because it was almost as if the person who committed these crimes had their eyes on the whole area, constantly. It was if whoever committed these robberies knew who was leaving their house at what time, what time the potential witnesses would be home, etc. The police never caught anyone in connection with those crimes, probably because they weren't in the neighborhoods all day like the ice cream men, and they had no idea who to suspect.

Still Nigel, a group of men like that don't band together for simple "break in's", they just do that because whoever hired them, hired thugs; and thugs do what is within their nature. They are here for the reasons I explained in the car…surveillance. They are here for some sort of bigger picture. I'm not concerned with the crimes they happened to commit because their lust and greed got out of control. I'm after the reason that they are here still, why they continue to stay here day in and day out in these areas; I want the guy who hired them". Then she turned and continued walking.

An ice cream truck pulled around the corner from the end of the street and crept slowly towards them. Rachel pulled a hand out of her pockets and started waving money towards the ice cream truck. It was small pink and white van with a large plastic ice cream cone on the roof. The truck kept creeping towards them, the windows too dirty to see through. Nigel felt his heart begin to beat faster as the tune of the ice cream truck began seemed to get more and more ominous; the obnoxious row was drowning out all music into an eerie singular silence. The guy driving the ice cream truck was a stocky man with a thick beard. His pink and white uniform did match the uniform that the ice cream man at the kiosk with the coke bottle glasses, was wearing. Could that be coincidence?

The truck was headed straight towards them but at the last minute turned down a side street that was accessible before he reached Rachel and Nigel. Nigel watched with awe as time seemed to slow down and the annoying ice cream jingle fell silent. The man driving had turned his head and was intently staring at Rachel and Nigel with an intimidating glare. It was pretty clear that he seemed to intentionally turn off the road instead of accept business for what seemed to be an eager customer.

Rachel turned with a crooked smile across her pale face. "See!" she said, "What was that all about? If you pay attention, it is as if all ice cream men do that. They seem to turn away from willing customers! Come on, let's cut him off!"

Nigel looked down and realized that at some point, most likely in the garage, Rachel had changed out of her heels and into tennis shoes. She started sprinting towards the houses and Nigel took off after her. They ran through the front yards and into the back yards. They cleared trampolines, playground equipment and ran behind sheds and into back alleys. They scaled fences and scrambled past trees and gardens. They kept an eye on the ice cream truck that was driving on the streets, parallel to their path, seemingly ignorant to the fact that he was being followed. They couldn't afford to lose it, if it was truly something that would lead them to the next answer.

They came to another street, a dead end, and stopped to catch their breath. Nigel looked up and saw the ice cream truck had turned down the same street and had coasted several feet before it came to a stop. It was obviously too late to turn somewhere else and there wasn't enough room in the street to turn around quickly.

"Give a distraction!" Rachel said and then ran off to the side. Nigel tried to watch to see where she was going but the loud noise of the ice cream truck careening in reverse towards him was more pressing. Nigel panicked and jumped up on the bumper as it was about to run over him. What was he going to do next? The force of the impact had almost knocked the wind out of him; had it not been for the handles on either side of the door, he would have fallen off. He reached down and found that the back door was unlocked. He wrenched it open, trying to fight the forces of gravity and inertia as the ice cream truck continued to back up wildly, bumping over the curbs and driveways.

Nigel pawed through the poorly stocked ice cream truck and tried to reach the side door. It was difficult enough just trying to keep from falling and bouncing around in the back. The ice cream man was really driving wild. Nigel could feel the van stop and lurch as the ice cream man started to drive forward…and fast. Nigel regained his composure and threw the side door open. He reached out and started to try and open the driver door. The man at the wheel was rocking about wildly in the cab, trying to see what Nigel was doing and keep an eye on the road at the same time.

Nigel reached out and grabbed a hold of the mirror on the outside. The ice cream man looked horrified and started to drive close to the mailboxes on the side of the road…dangerously close. Nigel's blood ran cold as he could almost feel the mailboxes rip out his spine as they inched closer and closer to them. Nigel reached into the open window and thrashed about his hand, trying to reach anything that might distract the man long enough to get away from the mailboxes. He hit the auto locks by accident and then realized that the passenger door immediately swung open. Rachel had somehow been on the other side of the truck the whole time, attempting, with greater success, something similar to what Nigel was trying to accomplish. That must have been what the ice cream man was trying to see when he was thrashing about, Rachel in the other mirror.

Rachel hopped into the passenger seat, holding a small object that she had pulled from her pocket that looked like a boxing glove attached to a gun handle. She leveled it at the ice cream man and it sprung out, hitting the ice cream man in the face and knocking him out cold.

The ice cream truck began to swerve closer to the mail boxes. Nigel pawed his way up and into the ice cream truck through the window at the last second; the mirror was tearing off mailboxes as they flew past. Due to the large size of the ice cream man, Nigel was falling in, head first, straight towards the floor boards. He reached over with a free hand and pushed on the brake pedal as hard as he could. The air began to fill with a screeching noise and the smell of burning asphalt as the ice cream truck lurched to a halt from its mad speed.

Nigel kept gripping the pedal until the truck stopped, bouncing over yards and running over flowerbeds. After the truck stopped, Nigel let go of the pedal and collapsed into the floor boards, panting hard. He tried to climb out of the floor board and got the door open, allowing for his escape and the unconscious fat ice cream man to tumble halfway out of the truck, held only by his seat belt.

"What was that all about?" Nigel said, gasping and adjusting his shades.

Rachel didn't seem out of breath or a hair out of place.

"That actually went a lot better than I thought it might. Come on Nigel, let's hurry up and find what we came for before the neighbors call the police."

Nigel and Rachel shuffled through the mess of fast food bags, cups, candy wrappers, maps, and paperwork that trashed the floor of the van. Finally Rachel shrieked while holding a paper up in the air.

"Here!" Rachel said, smoothing out the crumpled paper. "Look, here is a copy of the route that this particular truck makes. Here are certain houses highlighted, I bet that if we cross referenced the addresses, we would find these to be high profile targets. That is good evidence so far, let's see if we can find more."

"Wait," Nigel pointed out a house that had an asterisk by it and had "Mr. Frosty" written out to the side next to it, "What do you suppose that is?"

Rachel smoothed out the map again and looked slightly troubled.

"I've not been in that area much," Rachel said slowly and quietly, "But, I've never seen them hit that house on any normal route, from beginning to end, at any time."

"Maybe it's not something they want to be connected to…at least in broad daylight."
Nigel said looking up, almost nose to nose with Rachel. He smiled, pleased that he at least had made some contribution to the investigation.

There were sirens in the distance.

"Come on Nigel, we had better get going. This at least will give us a start."

They climbed out of the truck and started towards the side walk. Rachel ran towards the mailbox where a trash bin was located. She opened the lid and started rummaging through it. Nigel looked around to see if anyone happened to be watching.

"Probably should hurry Rachel," he said.

"Just a sec, if they've already called the cops, they've already looked outside and are probably still at the phone, they've not seen us yet."
She pulled out an empty beer carton, stuffed it with empty beer cans, and threw the whole lot into the back with a few extra empty cans in the cab for good measure.

"Ok," she said with a smile, "That should answer enough of the questions. We can go!"

Nigel watched her in disbelief as she pushed passed him and began to walk down the sidewalk.